Fish Dish – Seafood Salad

In the spring of 1994, I became a student teacher in a suburban high school on Long Island. One of the first people I met would become my mentor. Tom was tall and lean. Very tall and very lean. He taught a marine science class, among other subjects, and as I had earned my Master’s degree in Marine Environmental Sciences, I naturally fell in with Tom.

In addition to being an excellent teacher, beloved by his students, Tom liked to laugh, and he loved to eat. I’m not sure where all that food went. His philosophy was that education should be fun, and if he got to tease and harass people along the way and enjoy it (all in a good sense), all the better.

Tom did not advise student teachers in the same way that many other mentors did. By this, I mean he didn’t just throw you in front of the classroom and critique what you did right and wrong. He trained you to be in front of the classroom by building you up slowly. I started by giving short five-minute lectures – just to him during a lunch period – on a topic of my choosing. Nothing academic, but rather a hobby of mine that I understood deeply; he didn’t want me worrying about the subject matter. He wanted me to focus on presentation techniques, not the topic. For a couple of weeks, in five-minute increments, I taught him all about making pottery.

Initially, Tom let me present to him, and he critiqued my style. But slowly, after a few days, with no warning, he started to become ornery. He would tap his pencil incessantly, ask rude, prying, and probing questions, get students to come in and interrupt at just the right moment, building more and more each day. He was playing the role of a high school student, preparing me for dealing with teenagers. He knew I’d figure out the subject matter, but he saw it as his job to teach me how to handle kids.

Eventually, after he had tortured me enough and he thought I was ready, he put me in front of the class. It went relatively well, with expected ups and downs, as I learned teaching, presentation, and classroom management skills. But every Friday – in typical Tom fashion – my lesson was interrupted by Fish Dish.

Instead of having students simply write a term paper about some random marine creature of their choosing, Tom created Fish Dish. Students had to research an organism, write a paper, and give a presentation on it (complete with a quiz to make sure other students paid attention). But they also had to bring in a sample of their research topic for everyone to eat. They had to cook enough for everyone to get at least a small taste. Being the teacher, Tom often got a larger portion, and he usually had two or three marine science classes each day.

Fish Dish was one of those lessons rarely associated with traditional academic achievement; they had to learn how to cook a dish for others. Not your customary science class activity. And often they prepared their dish with a parent, a life lesson, and something most high school students are loathe to do.

Of course, when I was hired in the same district as Tom as a full-time teacher two years later and was assigned a marine science course, I too incorporated Fish Dish into my classroom. It worked especially well in late morning just as hunger pangs were arising in the run up to lunch. But it was always a drag, and sometimes revolting, if your marine science class was first period. It turns out high school students rarely get excited about limp, reheated fried calamari at 7:30 in the morning, even if they would have gobbled it down by the handful later in the day.

Some students bought into Fish Dish wholeheartedly, while others not so much. By the end of the year, I would tire of lame, pre-made shrimp cocktail rings purchased from the supermarket and tuna fish salad. But for every Fish Dish of microwave-heated fish sticks, someone else would bring a dish fresh and exciting; a traditional Chinese whole steamed sea bass with soy sauce, scallion, and ginger; a large bowl of lobster salad, big chunks of sweet claw meat included; perfectly succulent and spicy shrimp, charred in spots from the grill.

On the last day of school each year, it was always my turn. I would bring in food I had prepared, often a small meal rather than a small taste. Although I didn’t write a paper, do a presentation, or write a quiz, I cooked New England Clam Chowder, home-made California rolls, and pasta salad with shrimp, scallops, and calamari covered in bright green pesto.

Fish Dish was probably the most memorable recurring lesson I taught during my career. I used it in my class as a teaching tool for probably 15 years, until a student got a minor allergic reaction to shrimp, and an overly cautious administrator shut it down. I still miss it to this day.

Last week was my final day teaching high school students; I retired after more than 29 years in the classroom. As I cross this life-changing threshold, I can’t help but think back to how Tom and his antics helped me become a real teacher and enjoy the students with whom I worked. And it definitely would not have been as fun, or fulfilling, without Fish Dish.

Seafood Salad

This seafood salad is cold and refreshing on a hot summer day. Tart with lemon, slightly spicy with a bit of fresh chili pepper, and flavorful with garlic, the sweet seafood makes for a perfect appetizer or even a nice light meal. Just be sure to make it early in the day so the flavors have time to meld, and it can chill down so you can enjoy it with a nice cold glass of white wine or rosé, which you couldn’t do if serving it for your Fish Dish at school.

½ hour, serves 4 – 6 as an appetizer or small plate

½ lb. mussels

⅓ lb. cleaned squid, tentacles separated and tubes cut into ¼-inch wide rings

½ lb. medium shrimp, cleaned, deveined, and shells removed

1 stalk celery chopped

1 rib fennel, very thinly sliced and chopped, about 2 Tbsp.

½ Tbsp. chopped jalapeño pepper or ½ tsp. crushed red pepper flakes, or to taste

¼ of a red bell pepper, chopped

¼ of a medium red onion, very thinly sliced

2 Tbsp. fresh parsley, chopped

1 small garlic clove, minced or crushed

¼ tsp. fresh ground black pepper

½ tsp. kosher salt

¼ tsp. dried oregano

2 Tbsp. olive oil

juice of 1 lemon, about 2 Tbsp., plus additional sliced lemon for garnish

1. Remove the beards from the mussels, if necessary, and clean in a colander under cold, running water. Discard any mussels with cracked shells or those that do not seal shut after a minute or two.
2. Place a steamer rack and 1 inch of water in a sturdy pot with a tight-fitting lid, large enough to hold all the mussels. Add the cleaned mussels and cover. Turn heat to high and bring to a boil. Steam mussels until they open, about 2 to 3 minutes. Reserve cooking liquid in the pot and remove mussels to a bowl. When cool remove mussel meat from their shells. Discard shells and any mussels that did not open.
3. Remove steamer rack from the pot, bring reserved water to a boil, and drop in sliced squid. Boil for 30 seconds to 1 minute until just cooked and white throughout. Reserve cooking liquid in the pot and remove squid from water with a spider or slotted spoon to a new bowl. When cool, blot dry with paper towels and add to mussels.
4. Prepare a bowl with a couple of cups of ice and just enough cold water to cover. Bring reserved water to a boil and drop in shrimp. Boil for about 2 minutes until shrimp are bright pink and just cooked. Remove shrimp from water with a spider or slotted spoon, and add to ice bath for a few minutes, allowing them to cool and stop cooking. Once cool, drain and dry with a paper towel before combining with mussels and squid.
5. Prepare celery, fennel, jalapeño, red bell pepper, onion, and parsley and combine with seafood in a large bowl.
6. In a small bowl, whisk together garlic, ground black pepper, salt, oregano, olive oil, and lemon juice. Add to salad mixture and toss to combine. Place in refrigerator and allow flavors to meld and salad to chill for at least two hours before serving.
7. Serve in martini glasses, a nice bowl, or small plates garnished with sliced lemon.

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