A Different Kind of Cocktail

"Light & Perfect" describes much more than the last post's summer-fashioned pasta dish, and I've decided to make it a trend around this tiny nook of the internet if only to demonstrate that lighter, healthier meals aren't necessarily less appealing than, say, the piece of chocolate cake in the fridge you tell yourself will either be eaten or go bad, and what good is food-gone-bad while the world's full of malnourished people? (As illogical as that persuasion may be, you'd better just eat the cake, anyway.) Or try something new. Behold:

Although shrimp consumption was temporarily devastated when researchers discovered they contain high levels of cholesterol -- one serving of shrimp will provide about two-thirds the amount of cholesterol a person should consume in an entire day -- a 1996 study by Rockefeller University and the Harvard School of Public health found that the shellfish did not detrimentally affect the cholesterol levels of humans, citing that although "a diet containing more than a half pound of steamed shrimp" per day raised participants' levels of LDL (or "bad") cholesterol, it also seemed to raise the levels of HDL, "good" cholesterol thought to help prevent the build-up of arterial plaque. Combine that with the fact that shrimp contain very little fat and, say doctors, you have a healthier alternative to the fattier meats you might instead consume.

Growing up I developed an aversion to shrimp, or, more accurately, an aversion to the only sort of shrimp I knew: boiled and served with cocktail sauce. Due to my dad's old and spirited affinity -- "These are perfect! They don't make 'em this good in a restaurant!" I'd always hear -- for shrimp, this dish was ubiquitous at family gatherings. During the holidays, tradition demanded we make what seemed like a holy pilgrimage to a seafood distributor other than our local supermarket, even though, as I suspected, the shrimp at any location were, probably, of a similar quality. Once obtained, the shrimp would be brought home and refrigerated under the false assumption that simply because they were not frozen upon purchase they had never been frozen at any point during their long, truck-bound journey from the sea to this greatly inland destination. (Granted, I couldn't tell the difference at the time, but I'm glad I can now make this retrograde criticism.) Then, they were boiled for several minutes in water polluted with Crab Boil, an overly clove-stricken concentration whose unpleasantly powerful aroma clung to the kitchen walls for days.


Eaten far outside the pungent, airborne spread of the Crab Boil, the shrimp were not bad; my dad's shrimp are actually quite good, but they're always the same. Each time, every year. Boiled shrimp, cocktail sauce. I really shouldn't complain since it took me twenty-one years to finally prepare something else. (It also took me twenty-one years to develop a culinary sense.)

Now, personally, I find that until shrimp are cooked the little bug-like swimmers are absolutely detestable. They're translucent, slimy, and some, judging by their plump, black vein (read: digestive tract) appear to have been netted immediately following a corpulent Thanksgiving meal. They're quite pleasant once deveined, shelled and cooked, and provide an interesting shape for presentation on the plate. Sensing this, I happened upon the idea of citrus-marinated shrimp served a martini glass:

Photo credit: ambientqueenie

Several months ago I threw this together in a last-minute attempt to diversify our usually shrimp cocktail-oriented New Years' gatherings. It's a very simple recipe, really, obtained from Epicurious and originally seen in Bon Appétit. And since it's close to a seviche -- a cold dish in which an acid (usually lime juice) acts to "cook" the traditional fish or scallops -- when I make it again I might add one half-cup of lemon juice, marinate the shrimp overnight, before cooking, boil them only until they turn pink, then immediately soak them again in the citrus marinade for serving.

Citrus Marinated Shrimp Cocktail

Ingredients:

1 cup orange juice
1 cup fresh lemon juice
3/4 cup ketchup
1/3 cup vodka
1/4 teaspoon hot pepper sauce
1/4 cup olive oil
1 1/2 pounds cooked peeled large shrimp
1 small red onion, thinly sliced (about 1 3/4 cups)
1 cup finely chopped fresh cilantro

Method:

Combine juices, ketchup, vodka and hot pepper sauce in large bowl. Whisk in oil. Add shrimp, onion and cilantro and mix well. Cover and refrigerate at least 3 hours and up to 6 hours. Drain before serving.

Accidental Enhancements

I remember standing in front of the icy, glass seafood cases at a local fishmonger eying a tiny signpost that read "Wild Alaskan Sockeye" and considering that a only few blocks away a grocer had fresh salmon for nearly half the price of this particular sockeye. I bought it anyway, thinking that the higher price must correlate with a higher quality, and, after investigation, I'm still unsure if it does. In addition to diminished flavor, critics of farm raised salmon complain of higher levels of PCBs and lower levels of omega-3 fatty acids, citing these as evidence that you just don't want to be eating farm raised fish to begin with. While between the two varieties the difference in flavor is apparent -- probably from the higher fat content of the farm raised fish -- it's not enough to prohibit me from buying farm raised salmon when it's the only type available.

On the other hand, when it's available for a few weeks each summer, Copper River salmon is really terrific. Even places like Costco have it available with reliable labels:


Although I've enjoyed it only once, the flavor from this fish was big. I learned that the Copper River is a 300 mile-long and violently flowing river from which salmon are harvested, and the vigor with which these fish traverse the water translates to a more developed meat. And when there's good salmon to be consumed, there must be A Good Recipe around, too. The one I use is a slightly altered version of Alton Brown's Broiled Sockeye Salmon with Citrus Glaze. Interestingly, only now as I ready the recipe for linking do I realize I've been preparing it incorrectly.

AB uses dark brown sugar and lemon zest, which, the first time I made it, immediatley filled the kitchen with a sweet aroma. I knew it was working. When it was done, the fish developed a juicy tenderness beneath a sweet, crystallized glaze. I cut into it and took a bite, which melted on my tongue. Again, AB's recipe delivered.

About a month later I wanted to make it again. Looking back, I thought I accurately remembered the recipe -- at the time I was confident of my memory -- when I made it using lemon zest and orange zest, and about three times as much, by proportion, of the latter. I overlooked this accident and enjoyed the orange flavor that had seeped down into the meat of the fish and caramelized on its top. I prepared it twice more in this manner, each time thinking AB had been right-on with his combination of orange and lemon. Oops.

I'll provide it here with my accidental addition in parentheses. If you adventurously choose to include the orange zest, I'd recommend also increasing the sugar to 1/2 cup.

Photo: Food Network

Alton Brown's Broiled Sockeye Salmon With Citrus Glaze

Ingredients:

1 side, skin-on, sockeye salmon, 1 1/2 to 2 pounds, pin bones removed
1/3 cup dark brown sugar
2 tablespoons lemon zest
(or 1 tablespoon lemon zest and 3 tablespoons orange zest)
1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Method:

Position a rack in the oven 3 inches from the broiler. Line a half sheet pan with aluminum foil and place the salmon on the pan.

Place the sugar, zest, salt, and pepper into the bowl of a small food processor and process for 1 minute or until well combined. Evenly spread the mixture onto the salmon and allow to sit for 45 minutes, at room temperature.

Turn the oven on to the high broiler setting for 2 minutes. After 2 minutes, place the salmon into the oven and broil for 6 to 8 minutes or until the thickest part of the fish reaches an internal temperature of 131 degrees F on an instant-read thermometer. Remove the salmon from the oven and allow to rest, uncovered, for 8 to 10 minutes. Serve immediately.

Tuna on the Grill

The summertime aroma of a distant charcoal grill is enough to reinvigorate the most stubborn of appetites. The scent of barbecued meat wafting through a warm backyard smells inviting, the thought of ingesting several ounces of red meat may not be. For those of us desiring something a bit lighter from our grill, we turn to tuna.

Though there are a few species of the deep-swimming tuna fish, two of the most common terms you'll encounter are ahi and yellowfin. Ahi is the Hawaiian table name for two species of tuna, yellowfin and bigeye, two of the most common tunas for steaking. Both species have a firm meat and relatively mild flavor, which makes them too delicate for thorough cooking. Because bigeye tuna swim deeper than yellowfin tuna, they produce more insulative fat and develop a slightly different meat texture. If you're buying from a reputable fishmonger, they'll distinguish between these two; furthermore, if you're buying reputably, both options produce a very nice steak. When purchasing the steaks, you'll be looking for something like this:


Notice the uniformly deep, red color and slightly reflective texture. Some of the steaks you see may contain what appear to be darker portions, which is okay. Darker portions are simply larger fatty deposits in the meat, and you can easily cut them out if you prefer.

My favorite way to prepare such steaks is to crust them with spices, then sear them over a grill or beneath a broiler and serve with a garlic aioli.


Seared Moroccan Spice-Crusted Tuna with Aioli

Two 4-6oz. tuna steaks
4 tablespoons coriander
2 tablespoons fennel
2 tablespoons cumin
1 tablespoon peppercorns
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon chives, finely minced
1/2 teaspoon garlic, finely minced
1 teaspoon lemon juice, freshly squeezed
1/2 cup mayonnaise
Extra virgin olive oil

First, prepare a hot grill or broiler, arranging the rack of the grill or oven no more than three inches from the heat source.

Next, combine coriander, fennel, cumin and peppercorns. Grind in a coffee grinder or mortar until fine. Add salt to spices, reserving one heavy pinch for aioli. Set aside. To make aioli, combine the chives, lemon juice, garlic, and mayonnaise and mix well. Mix the reserved pinch of salt into this mixture. Set aside. Prepare the tuna steaks by patting dry with paper towels. When dry, coat both sides of each steak with the spice rub, then drizzle ~1/4 teaspoon of oil on both sides of each steak.

Place tuna on hot grill or broiler. Cook for two minutes over high heat, then flip and cook an additional two minutes. Remove from heat, set on plate and cover with foil. Allow tuna to rest for one minute, then serve next to a bed of greens with aioli on the side.