A framed pho­to sits above my writ­ing space. Three fish­er­men in their late-20’s crouch on deck, wear­ing hood­ies, rain­pants, and match­ing end-of-a-long-day grins. Team ’77:  friends born with­in sev­er­al months of each oth­er, togeth­er on a troller that shared our birth year.

My gaze drifts up to this pho­to often. One of my trea­sures, proof of the endur­ing nature of friend­ships forged on the docks. At an ear­ly age, boat kids under­stand the imper­ma­nence of sea­son­al liv­ing, the ease with which peo­ple can be washed into mem­o­ries. We grabbed onto each oth­er more than 25 years ago and refused to give in to life’s oppos­ing tides. We still haven’t let go.

One of my beloveds is cel­e­brat­ing his birth­day today. Always a trail­blaz­er, he’s the first of us to hit 35. I’m try­ing to recall two awk­ward, com­pet­i­tive nine year olds meet­ing for the first time, but am caught in images from more recent years. Like when I had an ugly break-up, he tucked me into his couch and resist­ed say­ing I told you so. Or the full day he spent with a rent­ed rototiller, churn­ing up my yard for a gar­den I briefly fan­ta­sized about but nev­er plant­ed. I don’t call him unless I’ve got a full hour to spare – he’s a chat­ty one – and no one else’s emails can make me laugh so hard. Time with him and his part­ner con­sti­tutes one of my winter’s highlights.

I’ve been snow­bound all week, and didn’t get to the post office to ship off the usu­al birth­day box of mint brown­ies. But he’s been ask­ing for this recipe for the past month, and today seems like a good day to share it here.  What bet­ter way to cel­e­brate a life­long friend­ship than with a deli­cious sand­wich? So, for you, sweet­ie, and for you, sweet read­ers: the Salmon Bahn Mi.

Mak­ing Salmon Bahn Mi

Pre­ci­sion-mind­ed chefs will cringe at my throw-it-all-togeth­er approach, and bahn mi purists will have their own crit­i­cisms.  Nope, this isn’t espe­cial­ly authen­tic, but it’s tasty and works with the lim­i­ta­tions of boat life, as inspired by the Viet­namese Shrimp Sand­wich­es in the fab­u­lous Fish­es and Dish­es. (If you’re a seafood fan, the Marsh sis­ters’ fan­tas­tic recipes, pho­tos and sto­ry­telling make this cook­book a must-have.)

Gath­er togeth­er: wild salmon, soy sauce, sesame oil, olive oil, lemon­grass, gar­lic, a lime, salt, pep­per, red pep­per flakes, gin­ger root, white sug­ar, rice vine­gar, a car­rot, a daikon, may­on­naise, chili paste, red onion, cucum­ber, jalapeño, cilantro, hoagie rolls.

At least a few hours before din­ner, mar­i­nate the fish and pick­le the veggies.

How much salmon? Oh, enough to fit the rolls. A tail piece of frozen-at-sea coho is per­fect for 2. Fool around with skin­ning it if you must; I’m hap­py to cook it skin side down and peel the fin­ished prod­uct off.

For the mari­nade, mix 2 – 3 table­spoons each of soy sauce, sesame oil, and olive oil, with a lit­tle squeeze of lime. Chop a cou­ple stalks of lemon­grass; add these in along with a spoon­ful of minced gar­lic. Grate in some fresh gin­ger and lime zest, and throw in a few shakes of salt, pep­per, and crushed red pep­per. Pour it all over the defrost­ed fish and stick it in the fridge for a few hours.

To pick­le the veg­gies, mix ¼ cup of water, ¼ cup of white sug­ar, and ¼ cup of rice vine­gar. Peel the daikon and car­rot, slice them into thin match­sticks, and soak them in the vine­gar mix in the fridge.

At din­ner­time, place the rolls in the oven, wrapped in tin foil, to warm.  Put a cast iron pan on medi­um heat, with a tea­spoon of sesame oil. When the pan is hot, the salmon goes in, skin side down, with a lit­tle mari­nade spooned in and a lid on top. These are pret­ty thin pieces of fish, and won’t require much more than 5 minutes.

As the fish cooks, make a plate full of top­pings: sliced red onion and jalapeño, peeled/matchsticked cucum­ber, fresh cilantro leaves. The spread is sim­ple: mix a few dol­lops of may­on­naise with some chili gar­lic paste, amount depen­dent on your spice preference.

The salmon’s done when there’s only a slight bit of translu­cence left in the mid­dle. Place the fish in your dressed rolls (see how eas­i­ly the skin peeled off?) and lay­er with the pick­led veg­gies and all those fresh top­pings. Enjoy with a good friend, and after­wards, take a moment to tell me what you did dif­fer­ent­ly to make this even more delicious.

Hap­py birth­day, AB — I love you.