Sweet and Spicy Salmon with Pineapple Salsa

When the Lawyer from Southie and I first started dating, we almost didn't make it due to my reluctance to use the telephone. I'm not a telephone kind of girl. I really can't stand it, and it doesn't matter whether or not I'm using an iPhone or a Blackberry, I just don't like having something touch my ear. I'll text and email all day long, but I won't call you back. I used to attribute this to the fact that I once unwittingly long-distance dated a gay man, and he used to answer the phone by saying "Helloooooo, gowah-juss" and then make me talk about my feelings for four hours a night. I learned several lessons in that very short relationship, but I still look at the phone and get a bitter taste in my mouth.

So we almost didn't make it because TLFS was positive that I wasn't interested in him, and so he asked out another girl. But I guess that then I did finally call, or somehow mentioned that I detest talking on the phone just as much as I detest coming home and finding a man's backhairs littering my cute bathrobe. Because he canceled the date with the other girl, agreed to communicate via text message and basically sealed my fate as his adoring girlfriend.

But I've come to notice that my mother has the same habit as I do - that is, she only calls me when she needs something or needs to vent about someone. These conversations are utilitarian in nature and short in substance. And those conversations last all of about 80 seconds before one of us claims that the house is on fire and hangs up.

"Oh my god, Duffy, my friend Danielle and I went to the opera and OH MY GOD she talked through the whole thing! The first act wasn't even finished and it was like she had worked me through her birth up until her first marriage and OH MY GOD NOTHING HAS HAPPENED IN HER LIFE EVER! I thought I was going to hang myself from the balcony with my panty hose before the second act was finished, but then she just fell asleep finally. Oh shit. The house is on fire. Oh well - keep with Weight Watchers! Love you!"

They say that only 4-7% of people who try to quit smoking each year actually make it. I think of those statistics and pat myself on the back.


So a couple of weeks ago, I went down to my mom's house to help her get through a surgery. And this was good for us, because when you spend three days together, one of you immobile and in excrutiating pain, you realize just all of the things you have in common - reluctance to use the telephone included. But I realized that at 2am, when we were both wide awake and looking at watching even more TiVo'd episodes of Monk, a half-finished glass of wine next to us and Baby Ruth cookie crumbs scattered around each of our chests, we really are related. Like whoa.

I put a good amount of food in her fridge, including what is possibly my best bolognese yet (will post the recipe soon when pictures are better) and a steak and Guinness pie that the Lawyer from Southie requested as soon as we got back to Boston. But after all the cookies, the steak pies, and the pasta, I was starting to feel that maybe we should eat some meals that involved less than 4,000 calories.

We came back up North and had an amazing Thanksgiving weekend with TLFS's family, involving all the standard fixin's as well as three pies. Three pies for seven people, and you do the math, because I absolutely ran those numbers and ate my share of half a pie. I spent all day Friday curled up on the couch with TLFS reading - he "The Albatross," me "The Road," each of us contemplating whether or not we should keep more canned goods around. The canned goods were, of course, because both books dealt with cannibalism, and there's nothing worse than reading something like that and then looking over at the person you love most in life and being like, "Whoa. Where would I even start with you? Your arm or something? What would I do with your hair?"


Seriously - read those books. They're gruesome. They give you thoughts.

So by the time we got back to Boston, we were ready for a little lighter fare. We put together this salmon in a pinch, but the flavors worked really, really nicely and I love a recipe that involves mainly things you have in the pantry. And canned goods! I'm all about keeping cannibalism at bay until that whole apocalypse bit!

Sweet and Spicy Salmon with Pineapple Salsa (serves two the way we eat)

1lb Salmon filet
1 can pineapple, not crushed, or half of a fresh pineapple
2T dark rum
1T dark brown sugar
1t red pepper flakes
1/4c red onion, chopped

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Wash and dry salmon with a paper towel, lay flat in a shallow baking dish. Sprinkle with salt and pepper.

In a separate bowl, mix together chopped pineapple, rum, and dark brown sugar until the pineapple is all coated and the brown sugar is dissolved. Cover the salmon with the salsa mixture.

On top of the fish, sprinkle red pepper flakes and red onions.

Bake at 400 for about 10-12 minutes, being careful that the fish does not overcook. No one likes pastey salmon.

Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving. Here's Try #1 of our Holiday Cards - rendered useless by my inability to comb my hair.