Nostalgia has a funny way of creeping up on us at times when we're least expecting it. Last week, while ambling down an aisle at the grocery store, minding my own business and looking for something to spark my interest for dinner that night, nostalgia, in the form of a large can of "traditional " salmon, jumped right off the shelf and accosted me.
By "traditional," I mean it was packed whole - skin, bones and all. And standing there looking at that neat stack of pretty pink-labeled cans next to that odd can of traditional canned salmon, I suddenly remembered my mother opening a can and dumping out a tall gray cylinder of salmon waiting to be unrolled to reveal its pink flesh, bones and all. Mama would then stand there patiently while picking at all those little pin bones and diligently scraping off the last bit of skin.
She could and sometimes did eat it just as it was, piled on saltines, but more often than not, made it up into salmon patties - better known in those days as croquettes. Nowadays, people may refer to them as "salmon burgers," sometimes made by the hoity-toity with fresh fish. But back in my childhood, fresh salmon was not as readily available as it is today, particularly in inland cities like Chattanooga.
Momma never followed a recipe. Beyond flaked fish, cracker crumbs and egg, they were rarely ever the same because she used whatever was on hand. She liked green onions and celery when she had them, but used chopped yellow onion alone when she didn't. The other seasonings were simple so as not to overpower the fish: salt and pepper, a dash of paprika and, perhaps, a few dashes of Worcestershire and/or Tabasco.
It's funny how much one's memory can pack into just a few seconds because of a can of salmon. As all that flashed through my head and warmed me, I knew there was nothing to be done but buy one of those cans and make her salmon croquettes for dinner that night the way she did, not following a recipe, but with what I found in my vegetable bin and pantry. Problem solved.
Momma's Salmon Croquettes
The important thing to know is that whole, packed fish will have more flavor than canned salmon that is skinned and deboned. Yes, it's more work, but not all that much, and it's worth it.
1 (14.75-ounce) can salmon
8-12 saltine crackers
1/4 cup finely minced celery
1/4 cup finely minced scallions or green onions with some green parts for color
1 tablespoon finely minced parsley
1 small clove garlic, finely minced or 1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
Pinch dry mustard
Salt and whole black pepper
Ground cayenne or dash of hot sauce
Worcestershire sauce
2 tablespoons mayonnaise
1 large egg, lightly beaten
1 cup fine cracker crumbs
Olive or vegetable oil
1 large lemon, cut into 8 wedges
Pick through the salmon to remove the bones and skin, and flake it into a mixing bowl. Crumble in enough crackers to bind the mixture, then add the celery, scallions, parsley, garlic and dry mustard. Season to taste with salt, pepper, cayenne or hot sauce and several dashes of Worcestershire. Gently toss to mix. Fold in the mayonnaise, taste and adjust the seasonings, then mix in the egg. Form into 4 equal balls, then flatten them into 1-inch-thick cakes.
Spread the fine cracker crumbs in a shallow bowl or plate and, one at a time, coat the cakes with crumbs. Transfer them to a clean, dry plate as you go. Refrigerate for at least half an hour before cooking them. This will help keep them together better when frying.
Put a cast-iron skillet over medium heat, and drizzle oil across the bottom. When it's hot but not quite smoking, slip the salmon cakes into the pan and fry until the bottoms are golden brown, 3-4 minutes. Carefully turn and continue cooking until the second side is evenly browned, about 3 minutes longer. Blot on absorbent paper, then transfer to warm serving plates and serve hot with lemon and, if desired, tartar sauce or cocktail sauce.
RESTAURANT UPDATE
If you haven't noticed, Applebee's is now in the old location of Ruby Tuesday on Highway 153. The new NYPD Pizza is finally opened in Lakesite. And, wait for it, Chattanooga's famous little hamburger, Krystal, known throughout the South, is now opening a chain of restaurants up North.
New York Giants legend Victor Cruz has signed a multi-restaurant deal with Krystal to open several new eateries in New Jersey. They'll be known as Victor Cruz's Krystal. Maybe we should call our Krystals "Davenport" Krystals since it was that Chattanooga family who started the Krystal craze. Anyway, thanks to Cruz, the North will now know what Krystals are all about and will, like many of us, develop their own Krystal cravings.
Also, I recently tried a barbecue sandwich and some ribs from Buddy's bar-b-q at Northgate and was nicely surprised. The ribs and the pork weren't swimming in sauce. In fact, I was able to order them dry and add my own sauce as needed. Every Saturday at Buddy's is all-you-can-eat ribs day, by the way.
Contact Anne Braly at abraly@timesfreepress.com or annebraly.com.