Gravlax Made Easy

 
fig. a:  perfect breakfast combo

fig. a: perfect breakfast combo

You’ve already made your Russian Black Bread. Sure, you could enjoy it with locally produced smoked salmon, like I did when I first baked this delicacy back on December 13, but wouldn’t it be even more satisfying to serve this sweet & savoury sensation topped with your very own gravlax? Of course it would.

If you’ve never made gravlax, or if you’ve been intimidated to even try, this is the recipe for you. It’s as easy as they come, it doesn’t require a lot of attention (in fact, it’s very hands-off), and the results are fantastic. The recipe in question comes from none other than Gabrielle Hamilton of New York’s Prune—sadly, now on indefinite hiatus due to the ongoing crisis. At the time that she wrote about gravlax for the New York Times Magazine, back in February, she called making it at home “the best party trick” and she emphasized the pride that came from preparing something so beautiful (“translucent, dense persimmon red”) and “so tasty that you’ll still be excited to eat it even after you’ve made thousands” (as Hamilton evidently has).

Months later, in the Covid-19 era, aspects of Hamilton’s article seem eerily prescient. As her title suggested, Hamilton had entertaining in mind when she wrote about gravlax. The idea was to encourage her readers to create a show-stopping centrepiece for their next elaborate or semi-elaborate brunch. Obviously, entertaining a crowd is out of the question these days, and for many, salmon—especially Alaskan King salmon— might seem like a ridiculous splurge, given the circumstances. But as Hamilton points out, once you’ve properly cured your gravlax, it freezes and defrosts remarkably well, and making your own is much, much less expensive than buying it at your “gourmet deli.” If you can source a big, beautiful side of salmon (preferably wild-caught and organic), go ahead and cure the entire thing. Once it’s ready, you can portion it according to your needs, and freeze all the quantities you don’t immediately need. When you feel that you’re ready for a treat, your gravlax will be ready and waiting.

Even better, this recipe scales down really easily. Don’t feel like curing an entire side of salmon, or don’t have the budget for it? Just cure a nice, thick fillet instead. You won’t have to use all the cure, of course—just save the rest for the next time—and you’ll only need one bunch of dill instead of two. And in place of the large-dish lasagna baking dish that Hamilton recommends, you’ll only need a much smaller of the same, like an 8” x 8” baking dish, and the whole operation will take up less fridge space.

Because the thing is, gravlax didn’t begin as a luxury dish. It was just a clever way of preserving fish in order to extend its longevity, one that literally involved burying the salmon (lax/lox/laks) in a trench—one that resembled a grave. Hence, grav + lax.

But obviously, it’s not only about the preservation. This isn’t a survivalist blog. The magic of gravlax is that a simple cure + a little time transforms your humble piece of salmon into something utterly transcendent.

If expert gravlax is the kind of thing that appeals to you and you’ve never had the pleasure of making your own, right now might be the time. Hamilton’s recipe requires five days of curing. Even if you only started your batch after Christmas—on the 26th or 27th, for instance—you’d still have enough time to fully cure your gravlax in advance of New Year’s Day.

Gravlax. New Year’s Day brunch. Sounds, good right?

Gravlax à la Hamilton

1 side clean, fresh and fat Alaskan king salmon, skin on, pin bones removed, neatly trimmed of all undesirable bits of fat and tissue (about 3 to 3 1/2 pounds total), or 1 fat and gorgeous 2 1/2-pound fillet cut from the widest part of the body [These suggestions are important—your gravlax will only be as good as the slab of salmon you started with. There’s no point in starting off with a questionable piece of salmon.]

½ cup kosher salt

½ cup granulated sugar

¼ cup finely ground black pepper

2 bunches dill (about 4 ounces each), clean and dry, left intact (no need to pick fronds from stem), coarsely chopped (about 2 cups)

Now you’re ready to cure the salmon. Lay the salmon skin-side down, flesh-side up in a glass or stainless-steel baking dish. (A large lasagna dish works well.) In a small bowl, toss together the salt, sugar and pepper until blended. Sprinkle the mixture over the salmon evenly, with abandon, until fully covered, as if under a blanket of snow. Use all of it. [You can use some discretion here. If your slab of salmon isn’t a large and thick as the one Hamilton recommends, you may not need “all of it.” But your cure should be applied liberally.]

Spread all the chopped dill on top of the cure-covered salmon to make a thick, grassy carpet. [Here, don’t hold back.]

Lay plastic wrap or parchment paper over the salmon to cover and press down, then place a heavy weight — such as a 2-gallon zip-top bag filled with water — on top, to weigh heavily on the curing fish. Refrigerate just like this, without disturbing, for 5 days, turning the salmon over midway through the cure — on Day 3 — then covering and weighting it again. [The zip-top bag trick works perfectly.]

Remove salmon from the cure, which has now become liquid, brushing off the dill with a paper towel, then set fillet on a cutting board.

With a long, thin, beveled slicing knife tilted toward the horizon, slice salmon thinly, stopping short of cutting through the skin. Generally, you begin slicing a few inches from the tail end and you slice in the direction of the tail, moving your knife back, slice by slice, toward the fatter, wider belly portion of the fillet. The last slices are always hard to get. Once you have shingled the fillet, run your knife between skin and flesh, releasing all the slices, then transfer them to parchment until ready to serve. [This may take some practice. It definitely requires a well-sharpened knife.]

Serve with Russian Rye Bread, pumpernickel, bagels, crackers, blini, or whatever vehicle you prefer, along with cream cheese, crème fraîche, and/or (as Hamilton recommends) a dill-mustard compound butter. And it pairs well with vodka and vodka drinks, like a vodka martini (Hamilton: “just rinse the glasses with aquavit instead of vermouth!”).

[Thank you, Gabrielle Hamilton! Great recipe! Thank you, Prune! We miss you!]

aj