A few weeks ago, my husband Arron (WAC founder + CEO) shared the most beautiful and heartfelt tribute to his father Walt Kallenberg, who passed away suddenly in Alaska over the summer. Needless to say, it has been a difficult couple of months for our family, wrought with pain, nostalgia, loss and longing.
Of course, everyone wrangles with grief in their own way. For me personally, the kitchen has become a kind of “Walter Altar,” the place where I meet the essence of the man we so miss. After all, it was through the act of, as Walt used to call it, “building food” together that I’d come to experientially understand the wisdom, creativity and soulfulness that my father-in-law always brought to the art of cooking.
It began on my first visit to Alaska with Arron, before we were even wed. “You know how to make biscuits?” is one of the first questions Walt ever asked me, bowl and spatula already in hand. “Nope. I’ve never made them,” I timidly confessed. “Well, you’re about to learn,” he said, handing me the utensils and a sack of biscuit mix with equal parts authority and faith.
And so began our culinary discourse, a game of divide and conquer, a laboratory of taste and play. He’d show me how to cut up his salmon filets in exactly the same size cubes to achieve symmetry of cooking, and I’d share my own tricks on how to layer flavor into a seafood stew. It seemed like he was always there, in my kitchen, ready to dice onions, peel potatoes, skin a side of sockeye, or even just a good, old chat.
And on some of the extra lucky days, he would pull up his kitchen chair or stool to the stove and take his sweet time to craft his signature dish — this veggie-forward, eggy, cheesy salmon skillet bake. On one particular occasion when Walt was at work on his concoction, it happened to be Arron’s birthday — so Grandpa Walt aptly called his creation “salmon birthday cake,” a moniker that has since become the official go-to, and which I can’t help thinking is one of the reasons why it has become our son’s favorite way to eat salmon. Walt was always so meticulous in his adding of ingredients, the vegetables sliced just so, eggs beaten very specifically, cheese laid to the top and cooked to a bubbly, gooey crescendo that none of us could ever seem to pass up. To date, it remains our kid’s favorite way to eat salmon.
Luckily, Walt texted me his recipe earlier this year, which I thought I would go ahead and share with you. This way, we can all keep the flames of the Walter Altar burning. Here goes:
Salmon “Birthday Cake”
Sockeye or coho portion, poached and broken
4 eggs
½ onion, chopped
Garlic (to taste), chopped
Handful of spinach
Havarti cheese on top
- Saute onions, garlic and spinach.
- Toss in broken salmon.
- Stir in eggs, turn mixture in pan to bring cooked eggs to top.
- When eggs are done, turn heat down, cover top of “cake” with cheese, warm ‘til cheese melts.
- Serve with sour cream and salsa.
I will never ever forget the last meal I cooked for him in our cabin in Homer, Alaska, on one of those gloriously crisp, blue-skied July days. I made sockeye salmon, marinated in a sauce of dill, honey, saffron, garlic, maple syrup, turmeric and lime juice, and paired the fish with corn on the cob. While we ate, a mother moose and her calves made themselves at home in our yard outside the cabin, just feet away from where we sat — all of us enjoying the perfect magic of an Alaskan summer. “It just doesn’t get any better than this,” Walt said, his heart full, his belly happy and his face a giant smile. When I cooked for Walt, he savored every bite, asked for seconds, relished the time together and thanked me for every meal. Looking back, breaking bread with him has been one of the greatest joys and honors of my life.
These days, I smirk when I find myself using his perfect little spatula, grinding up my coffee beans with what he used to call “gizmology,” or enjoying a meal of sockeye salmon, which today feels more like our family’s spirit animal than simply just a species of fish.
And in this way, grief melts into gratitude, pain into remembrance, and my kitchen becomes, in addition to the place in which I cook, the place from where I love.
We love you forever, Grandpa Walt.
Monica
Pictured above: Clockwise starting at upper left corner: Walt and I in position, utensils and smiles at the ready; a cute moment in Walt’s kitchen that I snapped on that first visit to his Anchorage home; Walt at work on his infamous “salmon birthday cake;” our son with his beloved Grandpa Walt, the most fun lunch date there ever was; Walt in deep focus as he beats some eggs; Walt and I in the kitchen at my folks’ house in Miami; Walt hoisting up the sockeye salmon he was gifted on the shores of the Naknek River, which he proceeded to gut, clean and cook in a toaster oven; Walt presenting a tray of sockeye that he’d show me how to cook in my parents’ kitchen.
