Salmon Sandwich
Between thin slices of lightly buttered white bread, place a crisp lettuce leaf; on that put canned salmon that has been seasoned with salt and pepper and a dash of lemon juice. Garnish with a slice of lemon.
A plain assembly sandwich from the era when canned salmon was a novelty worth naming on a menu. The only real decisions are the fish and the moisture.
- The canned salmonIn this period this meant Pacific red or pink salmon packed with skin and vertebrae intact, which the cook flaked and picked over. Modern skinless, boneless pouch or can salmon needs no picking; if you buy the traditional pack, the soft vertebrae can be crushed into the flesh rather than discarded.
- Drain it wellCanned salmon carries a good deal of liquid, and undrained fish will tend to soak through thin white bread. Press it in a sieve, then flake.
- Seasoning quantitiesNone are given. For a 6 oz can, a generous pinch of salt, several grinds of pepper and about a teaspoon of lemon juice suits most palates; taste before it goes on the bread.
- Bread"Thin slices" here presumably means bread cut by hand from an unsliced loaf, thinner than a modern commercial slice; something around 1/4 inch is a reasonable modern reading. A close-crumbed white sandwich loaf, lightly chilled, cuts thinnest.
- The butter is structuralThe butter -- The recipe calls for the bread to be lightly buttered; a thin, even layer helps keep the crumb from taking up the fish oil and lemon.
- YieldOne 6 oz can dresses about four sandwiches cut in halves, or a dozen small tea-sized fingers with crusts removed.
- Making aheadAssemble not long before serving, cover with a barely damp cloth, and keep refrigerated. The lemon slice reads as a plate garnish rather than a filling, and is better laid alongside than inside.
Canned salmon is the point of this recipe. Commercial salmon canneries on the Columbia River and in British Columbia and Alaska had by the 1900s made Pacific salmon one of the cheapest reliable proteins in an American pantry, available year-round in inland towns that would never see a fresh fish. Sandwich and luncheon books of the period leaned heavily on tinned goods for exactly that reason. The lemon and lettuce here might be read as announcing that this is a fish course rather than a picnic filling, and the lemon slice laid alongside is the same gesture a restaurant made with a fried fillet.