Indian Ben's Salmon

          The summer I turned fifteen, my mother and father took me, my three sisters, and two-year-old brother on a two-month car-camping trip from Atlanta, Georgia, to Fairbanks, Alaska. That trip rendered many fond family memories, but food was not generally among them. Food was especially not memorable, or not memorably good, along the Alcan, a long gravel highway that stretched for hundreds of miles with no stores between towns and towns days apart. Mom did the best she could, but we all grew tired of Spam. Nonetheless, one of the best memories of the Alaska trip was dinner at our campsite on the Copper River in Alaska.

          It was late afternoon when we took a side road that the Milepost (that most wonderful Alcan guidebook) suggested led to an interesting Indian village on the Copper River. The village—a dusty road, a small school, several log cabins scattered along the river bank—was most interesting for the high pole in every back yard with a platform, used to cache food out of reach of animals, and for a strange contraption we saw in the river that my father said was a fish wheel. Curious, we looked for someone to show it to us, but no one seemed to be stirring. Finally we found a man squatting on the engine under the raised hood of his car, making repairs. At our request, he climbed down and said he would be glad to show us the fish wheel. His name, he said, was Indian Ben. He had a big grin and spoke a shattered English with great confidence. We followed him down a path to the river.

          The fish wheel was an ingenious device, like a windmill that moved with the current. As the wheel turned, upstream swimming fish were scooped into the baskets. On the upturn, the fish dropped into a trough next to the river. Several fish were already trapped in the trough. Indian Ben picked up a big salmon, twenty inches long. Dad whistled. "That's a beautiful fish," he said.

          Indian Ben grinned proudly, gesturing towards Dad with the salmon, saying, "For you."

          "We'd love to have it," Dad said. "How much do we owe you?"

          Indian Ben looked at the ground and said the government wouldn't let him sell his fish.

        Without skipping a beat, my father said, "Well, then, thanks. We'd love to have it. And you've been so nice to show us your fish wheel that I'd like to give you a little tip." He dug in his pocket for the bills and handed them to Indian Ben, who flashed a grin, giggled, and said, "Me drink Coky-cola now." (My mother added in her diary, "Coca-Cola was indeed a treat. When you did find it, it was at least 25 cents per bottle.")

          We drove immediately to the Copper River campground listed in the Milepost. While the rest of us pitched the tent and set up camp, Mom started dinner, the salmon in one frying pan on the Coleman stove and corn pone in another. She was hungry, like the rest of us. Though she knew the salmon had hardly had time even to be well heated, much less cooked through, she lifted the veil of her mosquito hat to sneak a bite. To her amazement, the salmon was done. She called us to dinner at once.

          Fresh salmon, an hour from the river, and hot corn pone—ask any of us in the family about the best meal of our life, and we will inevitably mention that dinner at the campground on the Copper River. Just as inevitably, we'll launch into a story about Indian Ben and the fish wheel. It is a favorite and fond family memory.

Next week's post: "Grandmothers' Brunch"
Recipes from this post:
     Corn pone
     (There is no recipe for salmon because as far as I know, my mother just put it in a frying pan and cooked it. Besides, you'll never duplicate Indian Ben's salmon eaten right there on the Copper River.)

CORN PONE
serves 6-8

Ingredients
1/2 cup buttermilk or soured milk (My mother no doubt only had powdered milk to use, though she might have turned it sour with vinegar.)
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 egg
1 tablespoon honey or sugar
3/4 cup cornmeal
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
2 teaspoons oil or butter, for the pan
Preparation
Heat an 8-inch skillet till very hot. Add 2 teaspoons butter or oil.
To make
Beat egg and buttermilk together. Stir in oil and honey. Mix cornmeal, salt, and soda together. Add dry ingredients to wet ingredients, mix briefly, and pour into hot skillet. Cover and set over medium-low heat. Cook for 6-8 minutes or until done.