Check mate before breakfast


Plenty of time for an intellectual board game while cooking salmon. That sounds weird. Preparing something to eat, especially something as delicate as fish, usually doesn’t leave much room or head space to focus on anything else. However serving saumon confit – spelled in sexy French – for breakfast does free body and mind to dedicate attention to something else. That could be equally sexy. I mean chess.
An entire filet of about one kilo takes one and a half hour to cook. Theoretically it isn’t cooking. It’s confire. Which literally means preserving. This eldest conservation technique according to some, is done by inserting fruit or meat in fat, oil or sugar syrop for a long time on low temperature. Today we do not practice this medieval culinairy technique only to conserve. Like we no longer solely make love to produce babies. We do it to pleasure our senses. To capture our taste buds, merging delightfully, soft and pink, becoming one and complete in our mouth with the desire to feed ourselves.
The salmon filet we confit at a temperature as low as 70 Celsius. Hence the time for a game of chess. It’s drown in olive oil. Not ‘covered’, ‘generally sprinkled’ or ‘rubbed in’ with oil; the fish meat is immersed into a shallow bath of olive oil, just deep enough to completely succomb the pink, soft and slippery flesh. Size of the tray, weight of the filet and performance of the oven influence the confit time. It’s simple to determine though when the salmon is done. When white dots of congualated protein form at the outside of the flesh, the salmon is to be taken from the oven. Gently poor the warm olive oil over in a container to free the fish and stop the cooking process. Let the flesh breath and cool down. Please don’t cut the filet. Gently tear it apart. Preferably just with your fingers. And eat it. The sensation in your mouth, because of the super soft texture, the mellow fullness of butter, the sudden burst of deep and heavy pink flavor, are all as honorable of an homage to and hopefully reminscent of what you actually did in bed while waiting for the salmon to cook.

Author: Reina Hoctin Boes

I rely on e-motion. It's not about the smileys. And yet we live in a digital era where our emotions seem to be annoying attributes to life. Restrained, carefully chosen events to move our senses, are okay. We like to buy our emotions: food, dating sites, concert tickets. The fair exchange for money gives a sense of control over our emotions. Because what if, we freely open up, expose our senses on a daily basis to all that comes around? It means vulnerability. Do we really want to go there? Or do we rather read or fantasize about it? The second part of my life I wish to dedicate to the senses. And as such I'll be re-exploring reality. We say this moment is our life. What is it that this moment beholds? I reckon we haven't got a clue to find out what this moment beholds other then our five senses.

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