Salmon Pink

I’ve had a lifelong affair with salmon. I first tasted the fish when I was living in London as a child. It was a smoked salmon sandwich with a thick slice of cheddar to savor with. As I bit into the sandwich, I imagined the salmon as ham. Both share that same intense pinkness. I was the only child in school who practiced eating kosher. The rest brought their ham sandwiches for lunch. So I guess that explains the odd imagining. That was almost twenty years ago. I remember the story perfectly as I prepared dinner on the eve of my birthday. I had fresh salmon chunks with me in the kitchen. I whipped up my very first pan-fried salmon with lemon parsley sauce. Did I mention that I wore my pearls and little black dress as I chop and fry? I succeeded with the apron as my witness. I invited my half over for dinner and our night looked like this. Nothing tastes better than adulthood.

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