Salmon Burgers

Let us agree that “salmon” and “burger” do not belong in the same sentence.

So what gives? Well, “salmon slider” sounds like a remnant dance of the disco era. “Salmon patties” like something requiring cleanup.

Then again, “salmon slide”….now that could be worked into a Pretenders song parody, or discussion of the National Hockey League Playoffs. See Diane’s demented mind at work. Or not. Back to fish!

Burger nomenclature is used here strictly to indicate shape. Nowhere (well….) will you see ground cow placed upon bun, tenderly blanketed with onion, tomato, cheese and lettuce, verily anointed with catsup, mustard, and maybe mayonnaise before its final lidditude (an invented term). No vast plethora of toppings–peppers, avocado, bacon, random gloopy sauces, & etc, as the English say–here.

Indeed, this:

is not this:

Okay?

Granted, this is a negative way in to a surprisingly wonderful way to prepare salmon, learned from the estimable Diana Henry, who in turn picked it up whilst traveling through Scandinavia. As you chop salmon fine, mush it with various ingredients, then shape it into patties, reason holds it most be called a burger. Salmon burger it is.

Before proceeding further into this decidedly lunatic post, a confession: I bought farmed salmon.

It was a mistake, a horrible, embarrassing, stupid mistake, unknown until I got home and read the package, but there you are. I write from Foodblogger Hell, a tiny, windowless basement closet stocked with bottled sugary soft drinks, all nonbeef hot dogs, and economy-sized tubs of “I Can’t Believe It Isn’t Butter!” The soundtrack is an endless loop Justin Bieber. I am permitted neither bourbon nor Nutella.

Henry’s recipe is decidedly Scandinavian, in fact entitled “Scandi Salmon Burger With Dill And Tomato Sauce.” As certain IK constituents are not fond of dill, mayonnaise, or yogurt, significant alterations have been brought to bear on the original recipe. Crème fraîche replaced all of the mayo, shallots stood in for onion, and dill was excused from the party. Fearing complaints over too much onion flavor (certain people don’t like that either), the original two tablespoons of finely chopped chives were reduced to a meager teaspoon.

The sauce was reportioned for a single eater, who mixed herself some yogurt, lemon juice, a little mayonnaise, scallion, and garlic (of course).

The hardest part of this recipe is hand-chopping the salmon, which even I, Lady Lame-Handed, did not find all that difficult. It is highly advisable to have a sharp knife in hand, but then again, it is always advisable to have sharp knives in hand.

Salmon is a robust fish able to take strong flavors, meaning this recipe could go any number of directions: bind the fish with egg instead of crème fraîche and move eastward with soy sauce, ginger and garlic. Or try fish sauce, lime juice, minced lemongrass, and mirin. Minced hot red pepper would heat up either variation nicely. Take the Mediterranean route: olive oil, lemon, preserved lemon, minced garlic, additional parsley.

Salmon burgers are fragile. Don’t try to flip them during cooking. Just placing them under the broiler element for a few moments will cook them through.

I served these with a side salad and flatbread. They’d be lovely with couscous, farro, or bulgur mixed with lots of parsley.

John, who initially found the idea of salmon burgers weird, asked to take the leftovers for lunch. And I, normally no kind of fish lover, had to restrain myself from inhaling the photo shoot. Sliders, patties, burgers, whatever. They’re just plain good.