January through mid-May are spent cloistered. For the last 28 years, the Beverly Hilton has closed to the public for nearly a week in May to host Global Conference; for the second year, I’ve been a part of it. For my colleagues and me, life centers itself around the event. It goes without saying that April isn’t the time for a vacation. Things that need to be dealt with are either dealt with immediately or not at all: a theory that was tested early in the year.
Wearing one of Schuyler’s old shirts, my favorite blue jeans, and a secondhand J. Crew blazer, I went for a mid-morning walk from the office, and from the corner of 4th and Wilshire I could make out a cloud of grey smoke erupting from the Santa Monica mountains. The fires put the lives of all LA residents on hold. For the lucky ones like us, just for a few days - for others, for a long time yet to come. Pacific Coast Highway only reopened last week.
In the midst of hard work, climate chaos, and the absurdity that tends to fill the space between disasters, the absolute last thing I could possibly consider doing is fucking chopping vegetables without a really good reason. Salmon salad is a good reason.
I was on a salmon salad kick for a bit late last summer after I tried THISBOWL in NoHo - a very trendy fast-casual salad restaurant that is, unfortunately, very good. They made salmon salad into a comfort meal - tender, flaky salmon and perfectly ripe avocado melted into thinly shredded greens. Executed properly, it can be eaten entirely with chopsticks. At home, I serve mine over a bed of kale and purple cabbage, with teriyaki-marinated salmon, peanut dressing, and chopped peanuts or sesame seeds for crunch.
Salmon Salad
Kale and cabbage, finely chopped
Salmon, marinated in teriyaki sauce, baked at 400 degrees for 15-20 minutes
Avocado
Peanut dressing (peanut butter, soy sauce, sesame or olive oil, rice vinegar, maple syrup)
Chopped peanuts
Bonus points if you make your own teriyaki sauce - soy sauce, sake or mirin, brown sugar
Chicken.
Most days, however, I can hardly bring myself to dirty a cutting board. I’ve taken this as a good incentive to get good at chicken breast.
As simple as it sounds, I hadn’t managed to cook a chicken breast that I really liked until recently. It hurts that I have an inexplicable aversion to powdered seasonings. There is no sensuality in a plastic jar of dried oregano.
I’m relying on the fundamentals here. I buy skin-on breasts whenever possible, pat them dry, salt them thoroughly, and start them in a cold stainless steel pan. After that, some shallots, citrus, white wine, basil pesto, parmesan, butter - any and all of it, hard to go wrong. Pasta, greens, fresh sourdough on the side. This weekend, I have some beautiful rainier cherries - I’m thinking those, some mint and basil, and parmesan.
In-between
The snacks are almost more important than the meals. I enjoy really good bread to start.
On the left is a slice of my own sourdough - it’s a personal triumph of mine to be able to make bread better than I can buy it. It’s quite good just plain, but for more substance and color, I added cottage cheese, basil pesto, pickled onions, parmesan, salt, pepper. Tomatoes would be good in summer.
On the right is a piece of baguette from my local cheese shop. I recently learned that they sell their baguettes only half-baked, which is apparently how I like them. I had berries, cheddar cheese, and buttery green olives in my fridge. I’ve been making shredded carrot salad for a while now, with miso and olive oil and vinegar. Someone said to me recently that raw carrots are like retinol you can eat - here’s hoping.
The last dish is the one I was most surprised by. Inspired by
’ coconut milk poached cod recipe, I adapted this one with fennel and more lemon. I was lazy with measurements, timing, heat - just tossed everything in and let it come together slowly.It’s times like these I’m grateful I came west. In New York, or Philadelphia or Nashville or what have you, the weather will always beat you to the punch. The sun will always come out while you’re working late at the office, and it’ll rain on Saturday. If you spend a beautiful day indoors, who knows how long until the next one comes around. A little sunshine is enough to take your eye off the ball.
Southern California, and Santa Monica especially, is well suited for such protracted periods of more intense work. No sunshine is wasted - there is always more to come. You can take weeks or months at a time to concentrate on something and not feel like you’ve missed your one shot at a nice day. I think it’s why creative industries thrive here - you can afford to spend time reflecting deeply over your pursuits, and leave nothing on the table. At the end of a deep slump, when pencils goes down, the coastline is all still there, unchanged.