Sunday, March 7, 2010

Indian Spiced, Baked Salmon


Sorry, no photos. I made this last night and it was really, really good. Wanted to get the recipe down before I forgot what I did.


Indian Spiced, Baked Salmon

1 wild caught Alaskan salmon filet
1 tomato, diced
1 onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, diced
cumin
garam masala
turmeric
salt
pepper
cayenne pepper
coriander
olive oil

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Trim skin and dark meat off of salmon, dice up and feed to cats. Saute onion in oil until translucent, add garlic, sauté a minute or so and add tomato, a pinch of salt, a grind of pepper and 1tsp or more of the other spices. Saute to blend and remove from heat.
While the onion is cooking, place the salmon filet, either whole or cut into 2 pieces, into an oiled baking dish. Top filets with onion mixture, place in the oven and cook until the salmon is done, about 30 minutes.
Serve with rice and Sag Paneer.

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No NAIS!

Crossroads

On the day of my 45th birthday

this poem was published in the

Sanctuary at the Women's

Colony. I love it and thank

the author, Joyce Sutphen,

for writing this poem honoring

the process of living a life

beyond youth.

Crossroads


The second half of my life will be black
to the white rind of the old and fading moon.
The second half of my life will be water
over the cracked floor of these desert years.
I will land on my feet this time,
knowing at least two languages and who
my friends are. I will dress for the
occasion and my hair shall be
whatever color I please.
Everyone will go on celebrating the old
birthday, counting the years as usual,
but I will count myself new from this
inception, this imprint of my own desire.

The second half of my life will be swift,
past leaning fenceposts, a gravel shoulder,
asphalt tickets, the beckon of open road.
The second half of my life will be wide-eyed,
fingers sifting through fine sands,
arms loose at my sides, wandering feet.
There will be new dreams every night,
and the drapes will never be closed.
I will toss my string of keys in into a deep
well and old letters into the grate.

The second half of my life will be ice
breaking up on the river, rain
soaking the fields, a hand
held out, a fire,
and smoke going
upward, always up.


~Joyce Sutphen
Straight Out Of View, New Rivers Press

My Readers, I love them!