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Will
Travel for Food
(Marko in Alaska)
The Austin Chronicle
by
Marko Ellinger
Only improvisational chefs need to consider the possibility
of cooking at the Little Port Walter Research Station
on Baranof Island in Southeast Alaska. This isolated
facility, located about 125 miles southeast of Juneau,
is accessible only by boat or seaplane. This field station
is part of the National Marine Fisheries Service and
it conducts a variety of research studies including
the effects of crude oil contamination on the survival
of pink salmon.
I
found out about this unique cooking opportunity in Little
Port Walter from my friend, Austin caterer Frauka Baylor,
owner of Blue Trout. She wanted me to consider doing
the first six weeks of a three-month schedule that started
in May, so that she could honor catering commitments
here in Austin. Once I agreed, she committed to work
from the middle of June to the end of August. My responsibilities
as a chef included providing lunch and dinner six days
a week to a crew that numbered between six to 12 people.
I had complete freedom to cook whatever I liked and
a reasonable budget for food. Groceries for the facility
are purchased in Juneau and arrive at Little Port by
supply boat once a month and more frequently by seaplane.
Produce selection in Juneau is not as fresh or affordable
as we enjoy in mainland cities because it is shipped
by barge from Seattle. The challenge of not knowing
if the food I had requested would even be available
required a lot of flexibility and improvisational skill
that have fortunately become second nature to me in
my 20 years of catering.
When I first viewed the kitchen at Little Port Walter
I was astounded by the breathtaking view from the bay
windows that looked out at the gulf water only a few
feet away. Seals stared at me hauntingly from the water,
bobbing up and down for fish as waves crashed into the
steep rocks below. My reverie was cut short by a premonition
about the diesel stove I would have to use. It sounded
like a giant blowtorch challenging me to cook something
extremely delicate; I had to budget 45 minutes to get
a temperature of 350 degrees.
The menus that I designed were influenced by the chilly
and rainy conditions that were common in May. Temperatures
only reached into the 60s, so soups were extremely popular
for lunch. Although the pantry had been stocked with
a large inventory of canned goods, I chose to make homemade
stocks in order to craft some hearty signature soups.
Lunch also included a casual entrée such as chicken
quesadillas, salmon potato pancakes, international wraps,
and seafood lasagna. Dinner menus were casual but more
diverse: lemongrass chicken with basmati pilaf and roasted
asparagus with fennel cookies for dessert. Other menus
items included baked salmon with a massage of herbs,
butternut cornbread, three pepper steak, cornmeal halibut,
saffron-infused tofu with vegetables, prawns in a package,
confetti omelettes, zested poppyseed cake, and green
bananas flambe.
Working boats were available for casual fishing expeditions
after hours and on weekends. As I cruised out into the
surrounding bay I could see numerous snow-capped mountains
and dramatic waterfalls streaming down steep cliffs.
One of the residents of the island was not only gracious
enough to show me where some of his favorite fishing
spots were, but cheerfully consented to filet all the
rock fish we caught. Casting our fishing lines out for
only an hour yielded enough for dinner. Occasionally,
beautiful fillets of fresh halibut and steelhead trout
were brought to me unexpectedly and I was quick to change
menus.
Harvesting Alaskan Spot Prawns was actually easy with
the shrimp baskets that had been baited with frozen
pieces of steelhead trout and submerged at a depth of
around 400 feet. Using a hydraulic pulley to hoist them
out eight hours later, we placed our catch in a salt-water
container. Only an hour later, one of the crew volunteered
to pop the heads off these 6-inch prawns and bring them
to my grill. I was amazed at how dramatically they moved
about as they danced to the heat.
One day I decided to go to a nearby beachhead to do
a little yoga and saw an octopus sunning itself on a
protected rock. I was stunned by the richness of its
reddish purple hue and I realized I could not feel comfortable
killing it for food. (Of course, I feel no remorse catching
a 50-pound halibut.) As I returned from my walk I sighted
some bear droppings and realized I had been careless
in not bringing my rifle. One of the research team with
an NRA certification had trained me to shoot a 30.06
to protect myself in the event of an emergency. It was
at that moment that I realized that I could lose my
life in an instant and thought of the woman I love and
my family back home. Needless to say, I never forgot
my rifle again.
Some of the residents on the island expressed an interest
in gaining culinary information and I was motivated
to offer a tofu class to unravel its mystery. In the
spirit of scientific research, I conducted numerous
experiments on these worthy participants, including
a really wacky food comedy show that had me juggling
meat cleavers and balancing raw eggs on top of a mad
scientist.
As my five-week stay ended, I realized that I had come
away with much more than a direct deposit and some new
recipes. I had made lots of new friends and redefined
the parameters of my comfort zone to include the brown
bears of Baranof Island.
Marko
Ellinger is a freelance caterer who also performs comedy
food shows. .
Austin
Chronicle, July 27, 2001.
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