We all have a weird COVID hobby at this point right? I see it all over social media; friends, family and acquaintances baking, crocheting and sourdough-starting their way to the one year anniversary of when everything changed. I'm guilty of much of the same. I watched Tiger King, I made bread. Stuart got really into the lawn. But we're a year in now and things were bound to eventually get a little weird. So now, I'm fish-curing.
And fish curing isn't a totally new thing for my household. Before masks and vaccines and Zoom, Stu and I had gotten fully into homemade gravlax, thanks to our well-worn copy of Leah Koenig's Modern Jewish Cooking. And this is probably a good moment to stop and make a very important distinction. Despite the ever present designation of "lox" to a multitude of salmon products, let's from here on out recognize gravlax as NOT smoked and nova/smoked salmon (often referred to as lox) as it's own delicacy. Gravlax/lox is a cure pure and simple; brine, press, wait.
Gravlax, lox, smoked salmon; one thing they all share is that it's hard to find the good stuff. Sure, you can find those little plastic packs at the grocery store, but they don't get close to rivaling in taste what we've grown to enjoy semi-regularly in our own kitchen. And that taste, of a really fresh cured fish, with cream cheese, on even a mediocre bagel, that's an important taste. Especially in a year that I haven't even once sunk my teeth into a New York bagel. No visits to the city, no friends flying down with a dozen in their suitcase.
COVID-cooking takes on a new dimension. We've all sensed it. It's the distraction of cooking an elaborate meal when you miss your family the most, the ritual of pizza, the frustration of another round of dishes. It's the first Passover you cooked for yourself, the relief of takeout, the almost closeness of bread broken over Zoom. It can be a mixed bag, because food can remind, it can conjure, and it can't quite transport. It's the bowl of borscht, the bagel, the bite that almost makes your heart heavy as it brings you back to places and people you miss.
And COVID-cooking has taken on an even newer dimension as we've made big changes; Sunrise biscuit the day we packed up, fast food scarfed in parking lots, wary to stop anywhere too long on a COVID-move. If COVID-cooking has taken on a new dimension, so too has COVID-time; time to think, to reassess, to pivot. We're back in Birmingham and rooting. And perhaps it's the newness of an intention to stay that first gave the thought, "Why salmon?"
In possibly my favorite book of 2019, A South You Never Ate, my mentor Bernie Herman writes, "When people speak about terroir they speak about themselves." Terroir is a word that turns people off in it's complexity, but is really a simple word to help get to the heart of the complexity of feeling, seeing, making food. Terroir is the taste of place; tangible, longed for, imagined, adapted. And terroir is a mode of storytelling. Take an old favorite, something that temporarily satisfies the longing for one version of home. But make it your own, with a gulf fish that cures into something beautiful and new, silvery and transparent, soft to the touch, bright with cilantro, earthy with coriander, and slightly bitter with blood orange zest, a bright spot in the transition out of Alabama winter. It becomes a fish with a good story, of exhausted hobbies, of coming home and missing home, of first spring and last winter, of something old and something new. And it's delicious. Food, after all, is also just about good taste.
I've done a couple versions of this based off Leah Koenig's Brown-Sugar Citrus Gravlax. I find with the gulf red snapper you need less salt and less time. Best served on rye bread, like this sourdough rye from King Arthur, with pickled onions (counterintuitively sans capers), dill or cilantro (or both, why not!), and Smitten Kitchen's homemade cream cheese if you're super extra.
"Lox"-Cured Gulf Red Snapper
Serves 4-5
1 lb gulf red snapper filet (skin-on, rinsed and patted dry)
1 T whole peppercorns
1 T whole coriander
37.5 grams kosher salt
37.5 grams packed light brown sugar
zest of 1 lemon
zest of 1 orange (or blood orange)
3/4 C roughly chopped fresh cilantro
Toast the coriander and peppercorns. Grind in mortar and pestle or spice grinder. You want them coarsely cracked, not finely ground.
In a bowl, mix together salt, brown sugar, spice mix, and both zests.
Stretch a layer of plastic wrap over a baking sheet, letting plastic hang over the edges. Sprinkle half of curing mix over the bottom of the pan (you don't need to spread it over the whole pan, just the spot where the fish will be).
Make a few shallow cuts on the skin side of the fish before place it on curing mix on plastic wrap, skin-side down. Cover with remaining salt mixture and chopped cilantro.
Fold the plastic wrap over the fish tightly (use extra plastic wrap if needed). Place the sheet flat in the fridge, cover with a clean towel, and weigh it down. We use a cast iron griddle. You could also use a regular cast iron pan. At one point we used an old cassette player...
Refrigerate, weighted down, for 2-4 days. Every 12 hours drain liquid that is accumulating in the dish or in the plastic wrap.
You'll know it's done when it feels firm in the thickest part! When the time comes, rinse the fish, pat it dry and slice against the grain with a very sharp knife. Serve cold (see serving suggestions above). This will keep up to two weeks in the fridge!
Further Reading
A South You Never Ate: Savoring Flavors and Stories from the Eastern Shore of Virginia - Bernard Herman
Modern Jewish Cooking: Recipes and Customs for Today's Kitchen - Leah Koenig
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