How Pantry Staples and Frozen Fish Intertwine with Time

One of the things I most appreciate about Alaska is how closely food and time are intertwined. This connection exists all over the world, of course, but I feel it more keenly in Alaska than in the Lower 48, where the dramatic swing of the seasons and light seems to etch that rhythm right into each meal.

While summer’s glorious abundance can feel brief, winter stretches long into the year. So it behooves you to make the most of what’s available while it’s here. You harvest wild salmon, then freeze, can, pickle, or cure it to last through the next summer. You forage for berries and turn them into jams, ready to offer a little pop of fruit and flavor on a chilly day. You treasure the dried mushrooms your friend gifted you in the fall, saving them for a warm ragout in the depths of winter.

Preserving food is, of course, a practical tradition in Alaska. But there’s something generous about it, too: the idea that a moment of abundance can be carried forward, held in reserve for another day. And it’s an idea that can resonate wherever you call home, through the pantry staples and freezer finds you rely on when inspiration — or groceries — are running low.

I think about this whenever I reach for a spice jar or rummage for a portion of Alaskan fish from the freezer. What looks like a convenience in the present often holds the work, knowledge, and time that came before it. Even the dried herbs we reach for without a second thought were grown somewhere, harvested somewhere, and prepared by someone before finding their way into our kitchens.

These ingredients can connect us to something beyond the meal in front of us: a place, a person, a memory, or a season. A spoonful of berry preserves can bring back a summer afternoon. A familiar spice can transport you to a dish you once ate somewhere far from home. A piece of salmon pulled from the freezer can remind you that the food we enjoy today often depends on what happened months, years, or even millennia ago.

So as we settle into fall, I’m taking a little inspiration from the Alaskan tradition of putting food away. Not necessarily by spending an entire weekend canning and preserving (though if that’s your thing, I admire you!), but by paying attention to what we already have. What’s tucked away in the pantry? What’s hiding in the back of the freezer? What might help you pull together a meal on a day when you’re short on time, inspiration, or groceries?

Sometimes, what you’ve saved turns out to be much more than a backup plan. It’s a little piece of another season, waiting to find its way to your table.

P.S. As many of you know, Wild Alaskan Company is helping to raise funds for an Alaskan entrepreneur, Sara Erickson. Sara is working to bring an educational board game called Blue Salmon: 100% Fish to classrooms in Alaska and beyond. We’re so grateful for your contributions thus far! To continue to support her project, we’re inviting you to make a donation to AlaSkins Discovery — we’ll match you on it! Every donation made to AlaSkins Discovery through October 31st will be matched dollar-for-dollar by Wild Alaskan Company, up to a total of $5,000. Please donate here: AlaSkins Discovery Donation Link.  

Live Wild,

Monica

Pictured above: Jars of sockeye from Naknek; dried flower petals, in the house of Chef Mandy Dixon; a lid on my favorite local Homer jam maker jar; a lineup of prawn shell stock, illuminated by the soft light of fall; mushrooms from the Homer farmers market — all preserve-worthy elements in an Alaskan kitchen.