The end of the summer in Alaska is less a conclusion than it is a slow and steady settling in. A decrescent surrender towards the inevitability of darkness, lit by the last standing magenta-hued corridors of fireweed — each step forward into time shedding a sliver of summer's golden glow.
When I first moved to Homer, I got to witness how Alaskans revel gleefully in the dwindling light of September, living their lives on the gradually changing palette of greens that in time becomes an expanse of reds and rusts. Summer salmon fishers begin to pull their boats up for the season and fill up the boat yards, as the salmon runs taper and the remaining fish return to their natal streams, nourishing the next generation of sockeye as part of a sacred, infinite cycle.
Among the many miracles of this endless continuum is the beauty of transitions — the moments between the moments — and the built-in opportunity for reflection that they offer us — out in nature, but also at home. The end of one thing is also the beginning of another, when we can reset and redefine for ourselves what it is that we want from whatever comes next. To give our farewell nod to the warmth of summer's many glories, but also a greeting to the crisp newness of fall.
Alaskans bring these fleeting, sun-soaked moments of the outdoors into their homes by filling glass jars with jams made with the wild berries they've picked, and pickling the salmon they've caught all season long. A way, perhaps, to keep summer stories in their kitchens all year long, well knowing that soon the ground beneath them will be kissed by frost.
For me, this liminal moment between summer and fall is the perfect time to introduce new traditions onto the table. Because no matter the season, the one place we can always return to is the dinner table, the happy barometer of our homes. A time to enhance my family's experience of what it means to be well. And eating well-rounded, dynamic and delicious seafood from Alaska is one simple way for me to accomplish just that.
For a fall-inspired dish that’s evocative of autumns past, try making this Pacific Cod and Butternut Squash Chowder, which marries a sweet fall vegetable with flaky white fish in a just-creamy-enough broth. You can make it as written, if you have fish that’s defrosted already. Or, if you also find yourself forgetting to thaw seafood the night before, try swapping in Wild Alaska Pollock Quick Cuts from frozen, dropping them into the chowder to poach through at the end.
And if you’re short on time, which can happen as we move from the lull of summer to a more up-tempo, back-to-school rhythm, keeping things simple is key. To move quickly, I’ll often sear salmon from frozen and serve it with a quick side of veggies. The fish is crisp and flaky, and the bounty of late-summer vegetables doesn’t need much more than a drizzle of olive oil to be delicious — it’s a full meal in under 20 minutes, with very little planning.
This shortcut saves me during the busier days, but we’ve also added a “grown-up” version of cooking salmon from frozen: Seared Salmon with Brown Butter Sauce and Crispy Capers. It has a short ingredient list that makes it attainable with a few pantry staples, with a depth of richness that reads like fall flavors. The WAC recipe team made it in this week’s live event, which you can rewatch here.
I hope that something as simple as the ritual of dinnertime can offer you a cozy and thoughtful moment of reflection this September, too, as you settle into new routines or return to familiar ones, while embracing the quiet abundance of a new season.
Live Wild,
Monica
Pictured above: Two perfectly seared fillets of sockeye, nestled in a golden pool of brown butter and crispy capers.