“Celebrating the Salmon, Our Guest of Honor”
By Constance Cassinelli, Inland Empire Branch
For years I gave an intimate, candlelit holiday party for fifty of my closest faux friends. The house was small, and by the time I finished, everyone knew everyone, like it or not. It began with name tags that included the favorite thing they liked about themselves. If a person’s esteem was so low he couldn’t think about something, several well intentional guests would surround him and decide on a playful attribute that would make him smile. Some choice descriptions of fond traits included, “I hate being put on the spot.” “I like okra, my blue eyes glow in the dark.” “I conjugate Latin in my sleep.” Bob was proud that his name was a palindrome. I stated I really liked being a right-brain dominated human to which many responded, “Huh?” Sarcastic analytics translated this to mean, I was an artistic flake.
In 1983, a huge melodrama occurred on the day of the party. Our neighbor presented a five-pound Alaskan salmon to me. He couldn’t deal with its largeness. I bonded immediately (with the salmon) out of respect. It was absolutely too beautiful to cut. The problem was, the two-footer would not fit in a poaching pan or my standard size oven. My only option was to cook it in the dishwasher. This innovative technology was decades ahead of its time.
The first step was to run an empty cycle through the washer to remove any detergent residue. The salmon was already cleaned. The slit along its belly made it easy to line it with thinly sliced lemon and vermouth. The second step was to improvise a poaching system by using double layers of heavy-duty aluminum foil folded with a top seam for easy lifting.
I placed the large salmon diagonally on the rack and tested it for doneness after one full cycle. A thin metal skewer resisted penetrating the fish, meaning it was not fully cooked. An additional half-cycle of heat produced the final results. This time the skewer easily passed through. I carefully removed the salmon to cool, placed it on a special newly cut board, and adorned it with thinly sliced cucumbers to resemble scales. This beautiful creature became the honored centerpiece.
The rest of the holiday table was adorned with gold and silver decor on a deep, purple velvet, floor-length cloth. It looked like a ritual alter flanked with two silver baroque candelabras that held ten candles. Crostini were available for my Lobster Butter Spread that was mounded back into its vermilion colored shell, and my layered Black Caviar Pie that was presented on a six-inch pedestal with cucumber skins hanging below for more color. An abundant collection of red, green, and white crudités included star shapes. Sculpted fresh breads pulled hot from the oven produced a wonderful aroma that filled the house.
My friends, the Quadys, from Quady winery, selected some suitable wines to test. It was indeed a festive party. The wine was served merrily, and at each opportunity, a person’s capacity for humor was easily explored based on the newfound questionable information given on their name tags.
Some gathered around the eight-foot tree for another giggle. It was decorated with mirrored balls and tasseled, sequined pasties. Many wondered just how a skilled stripper could get the four-inch dangling baubles to swirl in opposite directions. They certainly made a rather fascinating decoration.
The biggest topic of conversation by far was our real guest of honor, our beautiful salmon. No one believed it was cooked in a dishwasher so it could be beautifully presented with honor.
Two years later I ran into a former attendee who confessed his feelings were hurt that I hadn’t included him on my ‘A’ party list the following year. “What list? What party?” I asked. “That was the finale. There could never be another salmon like that!”
Three of Constance Cassinelli’s stories are featured in the 2019
Inland Empire anthology. Eleven have appeared in Fresh Ink,
the Inland Empire newsletter. “Celebrating the Salmon”
originally ran in December 2019’s Fresh Ink.