Mango? Salad? In these final shrinking vestiges of autumn as it descends, sighing and officially, into winter? First of all, deliciousness knows no practical response to temperature, so jot that down. Secondly, every now and then I dunk my head under the humbling waters of my site analytics and am reminded that a shocking number of my viewership comes from the United States, despite my distinct non-Americanness — to wit, the very nomenclature of this recipe, which, stateside, would be cilantro. While America does enough self-pandering to last us all a lifetime, some of the best and coolest long-term mutuals that I’ve never met are from the US and it does occur to me that this Salmon, Mango and Coriander Salad would be particularly tempting if I lived somewhere with summer rapidly approaching. On the other hand, I’ve had this for dinner three times this week alone here in increasingly frosty New Zealand. Once tasted, you’ll want to make time for this recipe all year round. And with frozen, cubed mango, it’s quite possible to do this. (And, I feel strenuously driven to make clear above the fold, if you hate coriander I have a variation for you.)

You’ll find varying combinations of these ingredients throughout numerous cuisines, each pushing and pulling each other in different directions. Glossy, sumptuous shards of salmon. The acidic, sunshine-peachiness of mango. Coriander, which I and guinea pigs are of one enthusiastic mind about, finding it citrussy, rambunctiously fresh, and grassy. And then peanuts, which lend crunch and saltiness as well as their earthy plainness. But it doesn’t stop there; the fatly silky texture of mango complements that of the salmon; the fruit has a faint metallic edge that — and you’ll have to trust me here — doesn’t not bring the flavour of fish to mind; the peanuts have a slightly bitter grassiness to them that reflects that of the coriander. Holding that all up are frilly tufts of rocket, providing peppery freshness, to say nothing of the simple, mustardy vinaigrette which adds, if I may speak plainly, the flavour and tang of mustard. In fact, there is so much balance present in this salad that it’s the culinary equivalent of putting a paper bag over your head and executing a flawless wolf turn on the gymnastics beam apparatus.

Unlike balance-beam physical pyrotechnics (and despite my overwritten and over-explained recipe) this salad is really simple to achieve. And fear not, soap-gene sufferers: I tried this with the same quantities of basil; it was excellent. It’s not that basil is always able to stand in for its more divisive cousin, but it does work beautifully here. Basil is warmer, muskier, and this hint of husky spiciness is stunning with the mango and the salmon. I found I slightly preferred this variation with roasted, salted cashews instead, which really point up the richness and suit the basil’s relative intensity, but peanuts are still great. I am besotted with those packs of hot-smoked salmon you can get from the supermarket—though much like this salad, I feel I must balance any positive mention of the supermarket with several subsequent verbal fulminations about how much the duopoly sucks and is dragging the nation rapidly downwards.

The anomalously-nommed hot-smoked salmon is in fact neither hot nor overly smoky; it is chilled and—importantly—ready to eat immediately, tender and salty-sweet, and exceptionally versatile. It means this salad can be ready before you’ve even done mentally committing to the decision of having it, it’s certainly contributed to my repeat-viewings of it this week.

This generously feeds one person who perhaps has the memory of a prior snack and the promise of another to follow; it wouldn’t be too hard to increase the quantities to serve a few more people, though. If, like me, you’ve bought a vast quantity of coriander in anticipation of this recipe, you might also like to use up the rest in this shorbat jarjir, this tomato couscous with cinnamon, peanuts, and coriander, these coconut chilli tofu noodles, and this broccoli coriander salad.

And if I may, a reminder that you can sign up here to hear irregular and unobtrusive updates and details about my forthcoming 2025 debut novel, Hoods Landing. The second update is going out this week.

Salmon, mango and coriander salad

A glorious salad for all weather — frozen mango works perfectly well here and of course, you don’t even have to use coriander. But supposing you’re like me and adore the stuff, you’ll love how its grassy citrussiness bounces off the oily salmon, peppery rocket, and those lushly fragrant mango cubes. Also—consider most of the measurements given below “a handful” and follow your heart; if you’re still working out how much you trust your heart, follow the exact measurements. Recipe by myself.

• 150g frozen, cubed mango, or one firmly ripe, fresh mango
• 20g rocket leaves
• 20g fresh coriander leaves and stems (or, the same quantity of fresh basil)
• 40g roasted, salted peanuts (or, the same quantity of roasted, salted cashews)
• 110g-150g pack hot-smoked salmon
• 2 teaspoons dijon mustard
• 3 teaspoons extra virgin olive oil
• 3 teaspoons red wine vinegar
• 2 teaspoons water
• A small handful of fresh chives

1: If using the 150g frozen mango, set it aside on the bench for ten minutes first to start defrosting. Otherwise, cube the fresh mango — I take the unsurprising route of slicing one large cheek off, cross-hatching it and then slicing those cubes from whence they cling to the skin and repeating roughly with the remaining flesh. Place your mango, fresh or frozen, in a large-ish bowl that can take all the remaining ingredients.

2: Once your mango is sorted, simply throw in the 20g rocket, then roughly chop or tear the 20g fresh coriander. I tend to rip the leaves, then take a knife to the stems, which are immensely flavoursome but best cut down to size somewhat. Again, I emphasise that you’re doing this quickly and roughly—you want to keep some volume to the coriander.

3: Scatter over your 40g roasted, salted peanuts and, over the bowl, shred the cool, pink salmon into tender shards. Most times this salmon comes with a silvery strip of skin on one side, I peel it off and snack on it while I’m making the salad and suggest you do the same.

4: In a small bowl or cup, whisk together the dressing ingredients — the two teaspoons of dijon mustard, the three teaspoons each of extra virgin olive oil and red wine vinegar, and the two teaspoons of water. I realise that three teaspoons is a tablespoon! But also figured you might just want to use the same spoon for the whole procedure. Also note, I haven’t added salt here as the peanuts and salmon bring enough salinity; if you’re opting for a plainer peanut then you may wish to add salt here to taste.

5: Spoon most of the dressing into the salad bowl and use a pair of tongs to gently toss the ingredients and coat in dressing. Tip this salad onto your chosen serving plate (or simply eat straight from the bowl), taking a moment to finely chop your small handful of chives first and scatter them over, followed by any remaining dressing.

Serves one, lightly yet fulsomely.

music lately:

Pale, Pale Moon by Jayme Lawson from the original soundtrack of Sinners — I saw it at the movies this weekend just gone, and the way this number both stopped time and opened up time, at the same time! Lawson has such mastery of her voice here, from serrated-edge raspy belting to velvety murmurs and that beat and repetitive refrain are hypnotic and make me feel unhinged.

The Parking Lots of High School Dances by David Singer & the SweetScience, this song only has 93 views which makes me question how I got here. Hopefully that number increases somewhat by the time I’ve finished convincing you of its woozy, mellowly forlorn charm and off-kilter, briefly soaring vocals.

Revenge, by Nomeansno. I am simply never prepared for that chorus!

Spitting Off the Edge of the World by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs featuring Perfume Genius. Just when you think you’ve experienced all the twinkly, euphoniously momentous enormity the music world had to offer, here come these guys with this song to make you romanticise running through the rain crying while ignoring how wet your socks are getting.

PS: As we enjoy our food we can’t forget those going violently without it. Though the people of Gaza are existing under barbaric cruelty with aid continually blocked, NZ-based humanitarian org ReliefAid’s Gaza Appeal continues to work to deliver water sourced and treated from within Gaza so give it if you’ve got it. And as always, the absence of dollars can have power too; check out the BDS page of Palestine Solidarity Network Aotearoa for some useful directions to not spend your money in.