Tequila Lime Salmon

Need a fabulous but easy recipe? Here it is. Marinate your salmon steaks in tequila and lime juice. After a day spent cruising with our friend Joey (no not that kind of cruising, Dear Reader- my life is more tame than you can imagine, trust me) and seeing some of the stunning (dare I say, breathtaking!) overlooks and canyons in northern New Mexico, we turned our little Honda Fit around and jetted back to our casita, hungry, a bit sun washed and giddy (swaying on a high altitude precipice will do that to you).

Joey, of course, immediately began making a frosty batch of vodka martinis (for those of you dying to know, Joey takes his very dirty; in fact, I've never seen a dirtier martini!).

Then we raided the refrigerator. As luck (some might say, near-genius) would have it, I had three wild salmon steaks blissfully marinating in tequila, lime juice, and minced garlic. And Joey brought the cutest little perky heads of Belgian endive, a bag of organic spinach, and three flavors of Haagen Daz sorbet for dessert (mango, raspberry, and lemon). Now do you see why I adore him?

Tequila-Lime Salmon Recipe
 

We plated the salmon steaks on a bed of wilted spinach braised with a touch of extra virgin olive oil, sea salt and ground pepper, and a hint of balsamic vinegar while Dashing Husband chose to keep his spinach crisp and raw with a scant drizzle of olive oil. Both ways were good! The endive was trimmed and halved then braised in a little olive oil and chopped garlic - this was Joey's contribution, and Babycakes, it was too yummy.

3 to 4 wild Alaskan salmon steaks

2/3 cup tequila

1/3 cup fresh lime juice

1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil

5 cloves of garlic, chopped

Pinch of organic brown sugar

Dash of Worcestershire sauce

Combine the marinade ingredients in a large measuring cup (tequila through Worcestershire). Place the salmon steaks in a wide shallow bowl and pour the marinade over the steaks. Cover, and pop in the fridge.

Go sightseeing for the afternoon.

When you return, put on a pot of brown rice (add Old Bay Seasoning and a dab of olive oil), wash and cut a few vegetables (endive, and spinach, and carrots work) and chop copious amounts of garlic.

Make some ice cold vodka martinis.

Play music. Talk about life and politics and religion (everything your mother told you not to talk about).

When the rice is done, turn on your oven- 400 degrees F will work.

Arrange the salmon steaks skin side down on a broiler pan or other shallow baking pan.

Pour the marinade into a saucepan.

Place the salmon in the oven on a rack near the top.

Turn the burner on under the saucepan and start reducing the marinade to make your tequila sauce; keep it at a gentle simmer; stir now and then, between sips of a dirty martini and snorts of laughter.

Meanwhile, quickly braise the endive, and the spinach (in two different pans) and saute the carrots (yup, in another pan).

Keep an eye on the salmon steaks while all the braising and sauteing is going on- this is why Chefs get the big bucks. After about 6 minutes, turn the salmon over and cook briefly to crisp the skin. Cook till fork tender, maybe a minute.

You're ready to plate. Spoon the tequila sauce over the steaks.

Light some candles. Eat. Drink. Live a little.

More salmon and fish recipes

Shrimp Fried Rice

Salmon & Spinach Goat Cheese Strata

Garlicky Shrimp & Spinach Bake

Pineapple Salmon Brown Rice Bake

5 Foods to Live For

Chocolate's gotta be on the list, right?

Yes, it's Meme time again and this time around I've been tagged by Susan at Fatfree Vegan Kitchen to declare my 5 Foods to Live For. Asking someone who must live gluten-free due to celiac disease to list five foods to live for is an ironic and thorny question. If she had asked me, say, ten years ago, my list would have sported Italian semolina pasta as my number one. Following a close second? A tie between a crispy crusted French baguette and a chewy, salty rosemary foccacia- dipped in number three, extra virgin olive oil. Fourth would have to involve chocolate, perhaps a dense, rich slice of Devil's food cake. Number five?

Suddenly I'm feeling a little woozy.

This has-been (once upon a time) list ought to be named, 5 Foods to Die For. In some other incarnation I'm sure it is. Celiac is that serious. Yup. It can tumble you downhill so fast you'll be cringing- more than usual- at thinly veiled envy, er, I mean, compliments (Wow, you look amazing! Bitch. What are you- a size zero?) and discussing plans with your husband on how he'll look after your sons once you're gone.

Gone? he will ask with a raised eyebrow and a glint in his eye that begs to spark the levity he knows from experience simmers just beneath your gloomy inscrutable surface. You're not going anywhere, he declares with a bear hug, wrapping himself around your alarmingly bony shoulders.

Learning at mid-life that in order to survive you must be gluten-free every single day for the rest of your life is a mixed blessing. Yes, it's a relief. You haven't woken up in the third act of some Stephen King movie titled, Wasted. There is, finally, a reason you can point to. A culprit.

And the cure? The cure is simple, the doctor will tell you. Avoid gluten. And? you ask expectantly. There will be a shrug, followed by, You'll be fine. The depth of this nutritional advice is astounding, you think to yourself in utter and complete awe. Out loud, you murmur, Oh, okay, glancing at the faint remnants of powdered sugar on his charcoal wool trouser leg.

Finding five foods to live for is easy for me. After five years of living gluten-free I have forgotten what it is like to eat and live spontaneously, to stop, on an impulse and try a new bakery or a new cafe or the new restaurant in town. I must read every label of every single food, every ingredient that goes into my mouth. I make grocery lists in my sleep. I pack food for even the shortest trips away from home, knowing there will be nothing safe I can eat during an emergency. Well, if I'm lucky- a bottled water in a vending machine.

Eating now is sober business.

It's not just something to do on a whim, or out of boredom, or even, politeness. Every single food choice has to be conscious (How Zen, you think to yourself, chewing your brown rice. Maybe Buddha was a celiac?). For those of us intolerant to gluten, each bite we take is either healing or destructive. It's as simple as that.

And this is the hard part. To regard food as a possible enemy, as something adversarial, even life threatening, like some nasty virus or invisible bacteria, can turn any food loving girl's concept of nourishment and pleasure upside down. In fact, it is the antithesis of pleasure (unless you happen to be a masochist).

No, it's not easy to be even a quasi-foodie or comfort-foodie like me, when you have to keep your guard up. Strict vigilance isn't exactly, um, sexy.

Luckily, I was born with a resiliency and fluidity that has served me well in my life; and I have adjusted to my limitations and the stringency of living gluten-free. I still have foods I adore. I get pleasure from cooking. Sharing meals with those I love is as important now (if not more so!) than it was before I learned about celiac disease.

And after some minor and major adjustments, food has become equal to pleasure once again.

So, without further ado, my 5 Foods to Live For - aka Five Foods to Eat Before You Die Meme - are:

1. Roasted green chiles- fresh from a New Mexican roadside stand

2. Garlic- rubbed, minced, chopped, roasted

3. Extra virgin olive oil- organic and fruity, from Italy

4. Wine- both red and white, from velvety dry to clean and crisp

5. Tomatoes- in every shape and color and size, raw, cooked, and sun-dried

Wait, wait! But then there is organic dark chocolate and sweet potatoes and blueberries and peaches and vanilla bean and fresh corn tortillas. Sigh.

How lucky can a girl be?

Rather than tag five others (the bloggers I've asked have already done it - shows you how late I am getting into this) I invite readers to post their own list here (in comments) and write about it- especially those living gluten-free.