Salmon Teriyaki

Seattle lunch counters have served this dish since the 1930s. Japanese immigrants brought teriyaki technique to the Pacific Northwest, where wild salmon was so abundant it sold for pennies a pound. The marriage was inevitable. What emerged became the definitive Seattle teriyaki: thick fillets of king or sockeye, glazed until lacquered and caramelized, served over rice with pickled ginger on the side. This isn't fusion cuisine. This is regional American cooking at its finest.

The sauce requires four ingredients and fifteen minutes. Soy sauce, mirin, sake, and sugar, reduced until it coats a spoon with that characteristic gloss. I've watched cooks complicate this with garlic, ginger, citrus, pineapple. They're missing the point. Traditional teriyaki is about restraint. The sauce exists to amplify the salmon, not compete with it. Let the fish speak.

Buy your salmon from someone who can tell you where it came from and when it was caught. Wild Pacific salmon runs from late spring through fall, each species offering something different: king for its fat content, sockeye for its deep color, coho for its mild sweetness. Farmed Atlantic works in a pinch, but you'll notice the difference. Wild salmon has earned its reputation through flavor, not marketing.

This recipe honors both traditions that created it. Japanese technique demands precision with the glaze, building layers through multiple applications. Pacific Northwest sensibility insists on respecting the ingredient above all else. Together they produce something worthy of the waters that shaped this region's cuisine.