Like many people, my early experiences with seafood were pretty uninspiring—imagine meals of greasy fish sticks dipped in tartar sauce and gloppy tuna noodle casseroles. After my father suffered a massive heart attack at a high school football game, the choices became even bleaker. Gone were those fatty but flavorful standards, replaced by heart-healthy baked salmon, cod, flounder, tuna and haddock. Although delicious when prepared properly, these unfortunate fish met the same fate as my mother”s over-baked potatoes. Cooked on high heat and without butter, olive oil or even a squeeze of lemon juice, the fillets possessed as much succulence and savoriness as sandpaper. My way of dealing with homemade fish dinners was simple. No sooner did the tough fillets hit the table than they found their way beneath it. Unfortunately, not even the easygoing family dog, who gobbled up my unwanted spuds, green beans and oatmeal, could tolerate this fish. What spared me from a lifelong dread of seafood were Friday nights. On those evenings my parents and I went to their favorite Italian …

As of late I’ve been up to my whisk in work. That won’t stop me, though, from passing along a good recipe. This time it’s for a Swedish specialty known as Jansson’s Temptation. Featuring anchovies fillets and sliced potatoes, this casserole has become a surprise hit in my household. Usually anchovies are a hard sell but, when paired with potatoes, sautéed onions and a bit of cream, they’re an absolute delight to eat. Jansson’s Temptation’s exact origins remain a mystery. Some historians attribute the dish to a 19th century Swedish religious reformer who loved anchovies, onions and spuds. Others point to an early 20th century Stockholm hostess who created the entrée for a dinner party. She reputedly dubbed the invention “Jansson’s Temptation” in honor of a 1928 film of the same name. No matter how it got its start, it continues to be a beloved staple of Swedish cuisine. In Sweden the casserole often pops up at smorgasbords, those buffet-style meals featuring hot and cold foods. In my house it serves as a warm and …

Last Saturday I made what’s quickly becoming an annual pilgrimage to Shad Fest in Lambertville, New Jersey. Although hundreds go to check out the art, crafts and antiques on display, I’m there for the shad that swims upriver to spawn each spring. Shad has been called the world’s boniest edible fish. Native American lore attributes this boniness to an unhappy porcupine who yearned to look different than he did. The porcupine asked the Great Spirit Manitou to alter his appearance. In response Manitou turned it inside out and tossed it into a river. At that moment the shad was born. While its numerous, small bones make it impossible to eat whole, a filleted shad is outstanding. Possessing a rich, oily, succulent meat, shad has a remarkable flavor that needs few extra ingredients or fancy techniques to shine. Just slide the fillets under your broiler or plunk them in a pan and cook until lightly browned. You can also bake or grill this fish. I’d advise having a skilled fishmonger or fisherman fillet it for you. …

Forget chocolate and champagne. This Valentine’s Day it’s all about oysters. With their rough, irregular shells and mottled, gray-green coloring, oysters may not seem like the sexiest looking fare. Yet, they have long been considered one of the world’s foremost aphrodisiacs. Ever since the Greek goddess of love, Aphrodite, rose from the sea in an oyster shell, folks have equated this bivalve with love. The most coveted of all mollusks, oysters have been culinary darlings for centuries. Their heyday came in the 19th century when quantities were high and costs were low. At that time diners in North America and Great Britain consumed them as if there was no tomorrow. A slew of oyster-based dishes, including Oysters Rockefeller and Oysters Bienville, came into being. Whether eaten on the half-shell or in a prepared dish, folks just couldn’t get enough of those delectable shellfish. Unsurprisingly, overconsumption led to shortages and higher prices. Fortunately, the oyster market has rebounded. Now farmed rather than gathered in the wild, their numbers remain high while their costs stay relatively low. …

This summer it seems as though everyone whom I know has come down with Swedish fever. Maybe you have friends suffering from this affliction, too. They clutch dog-eared copies of Stieg Larsson’s “The Girl Who Played with Fire” and sit on the edge of their Ikea-designed seats, watching the film adaptation of Larsson’s “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” over and over again. When not hashing over missing Larsson manuscripts or the Kenneth Branagh series “Wallander,” they pound the pavement in search of gravlax and good, strong aquavit. Believe me, I’m not scoffing at their plight. In fact, I’m battling a similar addiction. From ethereal cloudberry preserves and delicately flavored kanelbullar to hearty root vegetables and tangy fish I’m completely hooked on the wholesome cuisine of Sweden. It all started with gravlax. Often confused with smoked salmon, gravlax is raw salmon cured in a mixture of salt, sugar and dill. Similar to its smoked cousin, this Swedish specialty originated from the need to store fish in a time when refrigeration did not exist. In medieval …

During a recent visit to Portugal I had the thrill of eating an impressive but quite simple-to-make Mediterranean dish – whole fish baked on a bed of salt. On that evening the server had wheeled a cart over to our table and, with a flourish, revealed a white dome of sea salt. After cracking open the top with a knife and peeling back the crust, he then skinned, filleted and doled out our bass table-side. Seeing the mounds of coarse salt encasing the fish, I assumed that our entrees would taste as salty as the sea. One bite proved how wrong assumptions can be. The flesh had a subtle, almost meaty flavor and lacked any hint of saltiness. Soft and succulent, it was undoubtedly the most delectable and memorable meal on this journey. It was also one that I would feel compelled to replicate in my own kitchen. Back at home I amassed approximately 4 1/2 pounds of coarse sea salt and 2 pounds of whole lane snapper. I would have preferred to use a …