“Cooking” dinner last night in the laziest way possible; I’m at least attempting weeknight meals that don’t take more than an hour from start to dishes. Roughly chopped onions, no garlic because I couldn’t be bothered. Sauteed them in olive oil and then added half a package of quartered radishes. Drained and added in a tin of canned salmon (picking the delicious soft-crunchy bone out for a treat first, of course). Added some hot sauce to spice it up and spring onions for freshness. Served over flat asian noodles that were seasoned with fish sauce.
I had some idea that a sweet chilli sauce would taste good, but I held off, and just added a bit to my plate. Glad I did as it would have ruined the dinner, which was otherwise delicious.
As I was cooking, I was gchatting to my bestie back at home. She was appalled by the idea I’m sunk to eating canned salmon. “Come back to civilization! You can have as much real salmon as you want!”
It was a giggle, and I loved the sentiment, but I have to say. Where’s the love for a healthy sustainable animal protein in a can? I felt better about wild Alaskan salmon than I do about tuna, even before it became the trendy thing to care about in the UK. And it’s delicious. I’ll gladly come back to California, but only because my canned salmon is even cheaper!
In other news, I’ve been cooking adventurously this week and also actively stressing my wrists (though I refuse to blame or relinquish my new passion for indoor rock climbing). Dinner this evening was risotto with sundried tomato pesto, topped with sloppy duxelles and two fried eggs and served with a side of carpal tunnel syndrome. If I can survive tomorrow until lunch without further injuries, I’ll be very happy.