Sturgeon smoked by a talented and generous friend, the fish’s aromas of charred wood and ocean tang instantly permeates the kitchen. Cut chunky and laid atop darkly toasted rye bread smothered with a thick layer of crème fraîche from a small dairy on the California coast. Supporting cast includes fried, fat Sicilian salt-dried capers and red onions from the garden, pickled to sweet perfection with a beloved Judy Rodgers/Zuni Cafe recipe.
It is a transportive, deconstructed tuna fish sandwich. With first bite, I’m immediately crusted in salt and sand on a sheltered beach on Cape Cod in August, playing in the shell-strewn pools revealed by the low tide. My mother lures me off the white sand flats with a tuna fish salad sandwich on Pumpernickel, my father’s favorite bread. It is made thick with mayonnaise, spicy red onion, celery chopped so thin it’s translucent, and sweet jarred piccalilly, an exotic find for my Midwestern mother. Once again, I am a blissed out 8-year old in an scrappy, one-piece navy bathing suit with red piping on the straps…
Heritage Culinary Artifacts