Tidepools capture me like nothing else, and I am certain I am not the only one who has carried this fascination well into middle age. Tidepools capture us because they are a microcosm of life: A world in a puddle. And, as it happens, an edible world.
Kelp pasta. Not pasta made from slivered kelp fronds, but real pasta with homemade kelp powder added. It makes a briny, emerald noodle that I served with the Pacific rockfish that swam among the kelp, along with summer vegetables. It’s a culinary experiment worth repeating.
I can’t remember exactly when I had my first seaweed salad, but I am pretty sure I ordered as some sort of gastronautic feat of bravado, thinking it would be slimy and fishy. It isn’t. A little slippery, yes, but more like cold noodles than the outside of a salmon or a pike. And it