Blogiversary Week Review: Taken Honey-Pepper Salmon

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Pretty much any romance involving a kinky bookseller is always going to get my vote. And if it's by Charlotte Stein? Double vote! Can we vote twice? Whatever, I just did.

Taken, a recent offering by Stein, features Rosie Callahan, a young woman still in college, and Johann William Weir, a rare book dealer. In a prank-gone-wrong, Rosie is captured by the bookstore owner and chained up in his basement, a setup that sounds completely sinister and is actually totally comedic.

There's a lovely counterpoint in this book between the devilish elements of dark romance and the vulnerability, insecurity and humor both hero and heroine display over the course of the book. Both of these characters are more capable and better wrapped than they think they are, especially when it comes to each other. It takes this absurd situation to allow them both to unlock desires they either didn't know they had or weren't comfortable indulging. Plus there's an age gap here, which is my favorite thing in romance.

But the best part of Taken is just how slyly it references those 80s and 90s historicals that feature the kidnapping of the heroine by the hero. In those books, the heroine is often an innocent, but feisty young virgin and the hero an experienced, powerful Highlander or pirate or whatever. I loved the heck out of those books in high school and often find myself, to some degree, chasing that high when I dip into older historicals. But what worked for me at 17 isn't the same as what works for me at 36. Now the consent issues in those books bother me, keeping me from being as fully immersed in the story and the romance as I'd wish.

Taken captures all of that dark, powerful older man magic, but gives him to a heroine who is equally experienced and comfortable with her sexuality, if not everything about her looks. And while she is in theory chained up against her will, it's crystal clear from very early on in the story that she is way on board with every element of their quirky, unspoken and un-analyzed role-playing. It's the hero who is ambivalent about the things he wants, needing the heroine's push to indulge his darkest fantasies. It's the first time I've experienced a modern writer evoking the same feel of those barbarian encounters, never mind in a contemporary, without turning the heroine into a push-over or the hero into an ass. And doing it in a way that didn't conflict at all with my desire for the heroine's enthusiastic consent.

So the bottom line is that I adored Taken. It's a story with a new plot and an old feel, told in the inimitable style of one of contemporary romance's most interesting writers. It's even way more romantic than it had any right to be, what with the bubble baths and wine the and hacksaws and handcuffs. A thoroughly engaging, surprising and, of course, sexy read.

This recipe has absolutely nothing to do with the book. The couple do actually eat, um, something, I think? But when I discovered that hero was loosely based on the character Monroe from the television show Grimm (an homage more than a literal representation since Monroe is, like, a vegan werewolf and Johann...isn't), I absolutely had to share my very favorite ever salmon recipe, one I've been making for years.

One of the very memorable early scenes involving the Grimm character has him insisting on getting the recipe for "honey-pepper cedar plank vegan salmon" from the main character's girlfriend as a terribly ineffective diversionary tactic. It's a very awkward scene and reminded me a lot of how Johann acts in Taken. And seriously, if you haven't seen the show, he makes the whole thing.

Monroe, like Johann is such a delicious combination of competence, knowledge, experience and utter fumbling awkwardness that's it's impossible for me to completely separate the two. Knowing the inspiration for the character and Grimm being my one of my favorite television shows made this book all the more fun for me.

As for the recipe, it's crazy easy. Just a simple pan-fried salmon and a honey-cayenne pepper sauce that goes well with pretty much any kind of fish, veggies and (my favorite) as a dipping sauce for sweet potato fries. So if you have any left over or just want to make salmon for two, you might consider making the full sauce amount. I keep in it in the fridge in a squeeze bottle and put it on everything.

Oh, and this is a pretty intensely spicy sauce so if you're a person who likes things a little less hot, cut the cayenne pepper in half. You've been warned!

Honey-Pepper Salmon
adapted from InterCourses: An Aphrodisiac Cookbook
Makes: 4 servings
Difficulty: Easy

4 6-ounce salmon filets
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon pepper

2 tablespoons olive oil
2 tsp minced garlic (about 4 cloves)
1/4 cup honey
1/4 cup Dijon mustard
2 teaspoons cayenne pepper (for a less spicy sauce, use 1 teaspoon)
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1/4 cup lemon juice

1. Salt and pepper the salmon filets. In a medium-sized skillet, heat the olive oil over medium heat until shimmering and fragrant. Starting naked side up if your salmon filets have skin, cook salmon for about 5-6 minutes each side for 1-inch thick filets. If yours are thicker or thinner, they may require more or less time.

2. In a small saucepan, heat olive oil over medium heat. Add garlic and cook for about 30 seconds or until fragrant. Add honey, mustard, cayenne pepper and coriander, whisking to combine. Remove from heat and whisk in and lemon juice. When salmon is done, drizzle a tablespoon or two over each filet and serve.

Disclosure: Charlotte Stein and I follow each other on Twitter, though I bought Taken for myself.

Wild at Heart Trout Meunière

Over the past few months, I've gotten rather picky about newer historicals. I'm not immune to a good romp through drawing rooms and gaming hells, but there usually has to be some distinguishing factor like a really broken hero (see last Thursday's post) or a bluestocking heroine. Even writers who are doing Very Different Things seem to me to be doing Very Different Things for the sole sake of being different. The plots and characters are intriguing, but the emotions fall flat. I mean, go ahead and make your point, but you also have to make me fall in love.

As a result, I've been delving into backlists to find older historicals, often by writers who aren't writing any more, or aren't writing romance. Patricia Gaffney is one of those writers. This interview with her at Dear Author from 2011 gives great background on her books and career progression so I don't need to repeat all that here. Wild at Heart was written as a response to Alice Hoffman's Second Nature. Gaffney didn't like that it didn't have a happy ending so she wrote her own version. The fact that I never read Second Nature didn't dim my enjoyment of Wild at Heart. Probably mostly because I'm a sucker for a hero who can't communicate. Not because he's an emotional nitwit, but because he has literally forgotten how to speak.

The book is set in a suburb of Chicago in 1893, the year of the Chicago World's Fair, already distinguishing the book from the cookie cutter pseudo-Regency, quasi-Victorians that have occupied historical romance shelves lately. From the beginning of the novel, we are given to understand that the hero was abandoned in the woods as a child and grew up around animals (yes, cliched wolves, but also bears, badgers, birds and foxes). This has given him strange mannerisms, odd food preferences and, as mentioned, a lack of will to utilize human speech. He is being studied by the heroine's father, an anthropologist who wants to use him to to determine something about man's inherent sinfulness. The heroine has doubts about both the efficacy and morality of this course of action and her empathy leads her to befriend him early on.

Sydney is a widow whose marriage was pleasant, but not earth-shattering. She is being courted tenaciously by her father's research assistant, but she's finally looking for something more in a man and finds it in the wild, yet curiously attentive hero. I can't go into too much detail about the plot of this book because the romance is inextricably woven into the fabric of discovering who the hero was before he ended up in the woods and who he's becoming by the end of the novel.

What struck me most about Wild at Heart was the degree to which it reminded me of the best science fiction and fantasy, using cultural outsiders to question things that we take for granted. In this case, there is an obvious criticism of cultural mores surrounding female sexuality, the treatment of animals and to a lesser extent, materialism. It elevates the transformative power of art and highlights the limitations of Modern, rationalistic scientific exploration. But it's not all about the message. The relationship that blossoms between Syndey and the hero is one of love, trust and sacrifice. Also, a sexuality that has nothing to do with intellectualism or anything but the mutual indulgence in sensation.

This is just a tremendous book and deserves a permanent place on the shelf of any romance lover. 

Wild at Heart also has a tremendous sense of humor. There is an element of ridiculousness to the idea of a young man being found in the woods and given the heaviness of some of the plot, it's good that Gaffney spins some amusing scenes, like one where the hero has seen Sydney's ardent admirer give her a bouquet of flowers and decides to give her a present of his own. Which turns out to be a dead whitefish.

Even Sydney's uptight, snobbish Aunt Estelle would appreciate this easy, delicious preparation of simple butterflied trout. Chicago in 1893 was trying to assert itself as the New York of the West and this cosmopolitan dish would have been perfect for its upscale hotels.

The key to this dish is to get the oil very, very hot to cook the fish and then to let the pan cool down before adding the butter to make the sauce. That means no cast iron. Just your non-stick or stainless steel is fine here. I turned on the exhaust fan and opened a window for this one since it does get a little smokey.

This dish is fancy enough for company, but comes together so quickly that you might actually get to enjoy your guests! I made it for four people and didn't even need extra flour or sauce so if you're doubling the recipe, just buy more fish. I served it with quartered new potatoes roasted in rosemary and olive oil and steamed green beans. There's a lot of butter going on here so I'd recommend sides that aren't too heavy. 



Trout Meunière
adapted from The Paupered Chef
Makes: 2 servings
Time: 10 minutes

1 trout, butterflied and laid flat
salt and pepper
1/2 cup flour
2 tablespoons oil with a high smoke point like canola or grapeseed oil (NOT olive oil)
4 tablespoons salted butter
3 tablespoons minced parsley, plus extra for garnish
1 tablespoon lemon juice (juice of half a lemon)

1) Salt and pepper both sides of fish. Put flour in a large shallow dish and coat fish on both sides, shaking off the excess.

2) Heat oil in a medium skillet until smoking. Add fish to skillet, skin side up, and cook for 2-3 minutes depending on thickness of filet. Flip fish and cook for 1 additional minute. Remove fish to plate and tent with foil.

3) Let pan cool for 1 minute. Carefully wipe out hot pan with paper towels. Put butter in pan and melt. Watch it closely, allowing it to brown. It should take about 3 minutes.

4) Add the parsley and shake to coat. Take the skillet off the heat and add the lemon juice to keep butter from browning further.

5) Pour over fish, garnish with reserved parsley and serve immediately.