An Ode to Weeknight Salmon
It’s over between us. Or it will be. Eventually.
Jacquie Lambie was on the verge of tears in a post-Federal Budget night interview with David Spears in March, when speaking about the Tasmanian farmed salmon industry.
Next, it was Jacob Elordi protesting salmon on a red carpet in May, wearing a shirt reading “Eating Salmon, Killing the Tasmanian Salmon Industry”.
What this tells us is:
(a) there is venn between Jacqui Lambie and Jacob Elordi; and
(b) it’s becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the trouble salmon is causing in Tasmania.
Regrettably, ignoring is exactly what I have been doing. Salmon happens to be a critical input into my general functioning and well-being. Exercise, friendship, acupuncture and saunas are great, but when I cannot access these things, salmon is there for me.
Often, I come home in the evening and perform the same little ritual: tray, baking paper, four salmon fillets, butter, capers, lemon, ten minutes in the oven at 180. Nothing else in my life works this reliably.
Paired with some broccoli, I know this is a meal that is not only going to satisfy my protein and ‘healthy fat’ requirements but also my taste buds. It is the perfect meal for someone like me who is on an anti-inflammatory diet for endometriosis and benefits emotionally from meal prepping lunches ahead of time.
My relationship with salmon hasn’t always been smooth sailing. My consistent salmon consumption was compromised when I moved to Sydney and started paying rent in the Eastern suburbs. I regretfully admit that before they upgraded the checkout scanners at Bondi Junction Woolies, I stole the 460g pack of salmon about five times to enable consistent intake despite a tight budget. Upon recently remembering this, I donated to Foodbank to clear my conscious and atone for my sins.
My local is now an Aldi and I purchase four shrinkflation pieces of pale-looking salmon there for $16.99 each week. It tastes fine, but I feel very guilty about it as I know Jacob and Jacqui would be cross with me. I now know that farmed salmon causes habitat destruction, disease, waste, pollutants and potential crossbreeding with wild salmon. But I don’t know how to affordably replace this quality protein source containing omega-3 fatty acids, vitamin D, B12, selenium, iodine and potassium.
And so, I remain in this self-inflicted predicament. Sooner or later, I’ll have to find an ethically unproblematic protein that delivers the same nutritional value and emotional security. But when it’s 7:00 pm. and I’m standing in Aldi in stinky workout clothes deciding between protein or moral clarity, I pick Salmon every time. Tofu as a concept upsets me. Sardines…are sardines. Lentils require optimism that I simply don’t have on a Wednesday night.
Don’t even get me started on the prospect of deleting fish from my diet altogether. I know about ocean collapse and microplastics, and whatever else David Attenborough is worried about. I’m just not ready.
I am currently investigating things like the Butcher Crowd wild-caught salmon box, but unless I miraculously become a billionaire, this will not be something I can order regularly. Sadly, the Aldi salmon is going to have a place in my life for the foreseeable future.
There are some things we can’t change about ourselves. I, for one, am an Alaskan bear in human form: maternal, sluggish through winter and feral for a piece of fatty fish.
