Pressure-Cooker Smoked Salmon Pasta

The first full week of living together. The adjustments are small: Tom wakes earlier than me (5:30 AM, Fish and Game hours) and makes coffee, which means I wake to the smell of coffee instead of an alarm, which is a superior method of consciousness and one I endorse completely. He folds his towels differently (thirds, not halves), which I noticed and chose not to comment on because towel-folding preferences are not a hill I'm willing to die on, not after the hills I've actually died on.

The kids are adjusting. Mason treats Tom's presence as confirmation of something he already knew: Tom was here before he officially arrived, and the arrival is just paperwork. Lily is adjusting to Duke, who is larger than Hank and occupies more floor space, and who has a habit of stealing her socks from the laundry basket and carrying them to his bed, which Lily finds "disgusting and also funny."

The kitchen has two cooks now. Tom and I have established a rhythm: I cook most weeknights (it's my domain, my recipes, my kitchen), he cooks on Fridays (his night, his trout or his elk burgers or whatever he's harvested or caught). Weekends we cook together. The together-cooking is the best part — side by side at the counter, his hands chopping while mine stir, the wordless choreography of two people who love food and love each other and have found that the intersection of those two loves is the kitchen counter at 6 PM on a Saturday.

Mom called to check on the new arrangement. She said, "How's it going?" I said, "He folds towels wrong." She said, "Your father has folded towels wrong for fifty years. Pick your battles." Diane Dawson, relationship counselor. Her entire philosophy in four words: pick your battles. She's right. She's always right. The towels can fold however they want. The pot roast is what matters.

I made Tom's trout on Friday — his recipe, in my kitchen, with my hands. He supervised (gently, patiently, in the way he does everything). The trout was good. Not as good as his — he has a gift with fish the way I have a gift with beef — but good. And the act of cooking his recipe in my kitchen was an act of love in the same language we share: the language of food, of feeding, of the belief that the truest way to say "I love you" is to stand at a stove and make something for the person you love.

I couldn’t make his actual trout — that belongs to Tom, to his hands and his patience and whatever he knows about fish that I don’t — but I wanted to carry that Friday fish-night energy into something I could own a little more fully. This pressure-cooker smoked salmon pasta is where I landed: the smokiness stands in for the char of a cast-iron skillet, the richness feels like a proper Friday meal, and the whole thing comes together fast enough that Tom and I still had time to do the side-by-side thing at the counter that I’m already protective of. Consider it my translation of his language into mine.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

12 oz penne or rotini pasta
3 cups chicken or vegetable broth
1 cup water
4 oz smoked salmon, roughly chopped or torn
4 oz cream cheese, cubed
1/2 cup sour cream
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon capers, drained (optional)
1 tablespoon fresh dill, chopped (or 1 teaspoon dried)
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon salt, or to taste
2 tablespoons fresh chives or parsley, for garnish

Instructions

Load the pot. Add the dry pasta, broth, water, garlic, salt, and pepper to the pressure cooker insert. Stir briefly to combine and ensure the pasta is submerged as much as possible.
Pressure cook. Seal the lid and set the pressure cooker to high pressure for 5 minutes. It will take approximately 10–12 minutes to come to pressure before the cook time begins.
Quick release. Carefully perform a quick pressure release. Open the lid and stir — there will be some starchy liquid remaining, which is what you want for the sauce.
Build the sauce. Switch to the sauté function (or work quickly off heat). Add the cream cheese cubes and stir until melted and smooth, about 2 minutes. Stir in the sour cream and lemon juice until fully incorporated.
Add the salmon. Fold in the smoked salmon and capers, if using. Stir gently — the salmon will break into flakes and warm through in about 1 minute. Taste and adjust salt and pepper.
Finish and serve. Stir in the fresh dill. Divide among bowls and top with chives or parsley. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Pressure-Cooker Smoked Salmon Pasta — When You Cook His Recipe in Your Kitchen