Blood, Sweat and Salmon

Republican Cuckoo

No matter what the occupation, there will come a time when you meet the unreasonable. It happens; there is no way to avoid it. When you work for the airlines that level of ridiculous can be elevated to a level so high, that your only response is a wide-mouthed, incredulous stare.  You can’t say anything, because your mind is still trying to wrap around why this person is losing their shit, and doing it quite well.  This was my FIRST (and definitely, not last) excursion into the bizarre metamorphoses a normally reasonable person goes through when things go off course, in their own mind.

June 2011, it’s hot, very hot.  I had been working the ramp for about a month and was still pretty green. I had the basics down, but still had a lot to learn, loading and unloading, moving equipment around, just getting things done.  Working in an air-conditioned bookstore for 5 years prior to this did nothing for my stamina.   My body talked to the pores and said, “Hey, let’s shoot an absurd amount of water and salt out of every crevice on his body, maybe he’ll stop this nonsense.  And where’s my coffee?!” Let there be sweat, and lots of it. This is an afternoon flight, where the 96 degree heat would slap the hot tarmac; bounce up to 110 and envelope your entire body.  Tack on some humidity and you begin to feel like a wet, damp, warm sweater is covering your head.  So I push the metal cart with the broken shopping cart-like wheel to meet customers who are awaiting their carry-ons.  The metal door slowly creaks upwards, and there are 25 people staring at you hoping they get their precious bag before you drop dead.  I unload, placing each bag carefully on the step while eyes of pity bore their sympathetic glances towards the back of my neck.  The last item of 30 other items, a wooden box with a fragile sticker on it, is placed carefully down with the others, task complete.  I look up, to see a lady looking at me, then the box, then back to me.   Each time her head went back to my saturated mug, the look got worse, angrier, intense . . . scary.  There was trouble afoot.

“You’ve got your sweat all over my cuckoo clock box!!” Enter the wide-mouthed, incredulous stare here.  “This is a priceless heirloom, and your sweat is all over it!!” Far be it from me to inform the passenger that is was their choice to take this precious heirloom, allow it to be shoved into the back of a plane going 500 mph with 100 other priceless heirlooms, and the only “damage” it sustained on this cross-country adventure was some sweat that at the moment was already evaporating. “How am I supposed to give this to my mother with your bodily fluids all over it!!?” My mental response, “You can shove it up her ass,” was quickly shot down by a mini-conference held between my inner monologue and my mouth that decided, really?! Why bring her poor mother into this. Instead, I opted for, “You can take it out of the box.” I don’t think that went over any better, I fired my inner monologue.  After the smoke cleared, smoke that billowed out of her ear canals, she vowed never to fly this airline again due to the inconsiderate and reckless way her clock was handled.  I had lost my first airline customer, I believe the next day I lost four more, but that’s another story.

To transition this story to a salmon recipe is not going to be smooth, but here is how salmon makes me feel, relaxed.  It is an easy fish to cook, it doesn’t take much time, and the results are always satisfying. If had a plate of this dish handy, I would have given it to cuckoo lady and said, “Here, have some salmon.”  It wouldn’t have made her less angry, but just making it kills any and all exasperation.  Cooking is Zen, it cures whatever others ails, start to ail you.

Salmon with Tomato Pesto (it’s not traditional pesto, but tastes just as good)
Recipe: Mark Bittman - "Fish"

What you need:

Photoshopped fish is tasty fish.

Cod, kidding, salmon – two dinner sized fillets with skin on (this goes to the dog, don’t ask)

1 fresh tomato

Salt and pepper (yo, yo, yo, yo, salt and pepper here, it’s in effect)

“Pesto”

1 cup cilantro leaves – take out the stems, pretend its weed

1 clove garlic

2 tbs of olive oil

1 lime

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Take the salmon and salt and pepper the flesh to your taste and liking.  Place on a baking sheet with aluminum foil and leave it.  I like to cook fish when it’s at room temp, so that the cooking times stay true. 

Cut the tomato; take out the gooey parts and the seeds. While doing this, think of your favorite horror flick.

Meanwhile, at the Kitchen of Justice, make your “pesto.” Take the cilantro, the garlic, olive oil and juice of the lime and throw it all in a blender or food processor.  If you don’t have these things, you are lying.  Have you made a Margarita?  It’s that thingy.  Blend it all together until it’s got a little body to it, sans huge chunks.  Drizzle this over the salmon filets and place the tomato chunks you just massacred to top it off.  Stick the whole concoction in the preheated oven for 20 minutes. 

What should come out is a salmon, if not; you’ve completely screwed this up. 

You can see pics of this masterpiece on travelingwithcoffee.blogspot.com