Gravlax in Vodka, with Dill and Mustard Seed

Growing up in the Pacific Northwest, salmon was no stranger to our dinner table.  My father is an avid fisherman.  As a banker for Farm Credit, he frequently traveled throughout western Washington state on business, but he always kept his fishing gear, boots, and coveralls in the trunk of his car and kept an eye out for promising creeks and bridges.  We dined on salmon, steelhead, and trout.  During salmon season, nearly everyone in our neighborhood had a smoker going, and recipes for smoked salmon were as varied as the owners.  At one point I was so damn sick of salmon I begged him not to bring any more home and said I would refuse to eat it.  (Being an understanding dad, he told me I could stick to the vegetables on my plate if I wanted.)

Many years later, Dan and I both have a fondness for lox, those little packages of expensive smoked salmon.  Lox is brined or salt-cured and then cold smoked, resulting in a fresh pinkness, smooth texture, and delectable taste. 

This summer I picked up two 4-oz. packages of lox in the store, for $3.50 each.  And then I saw Atlantic salmon filets for $5.00 a pound.  But salmon is a rich food, and Dan was tired of eating it barbecued, sauteed and steamed.  Somewhere in my scattered memory bank, amongst the arrowhead collections and river agates and blackberries the size of robins' eggs, was an unusual memory of salmon.  I studied that rosy, shining filet with my head cocked to one side, staring intently as the aisle traffic parted around me like a stream flowing around a rock. 

And then it came to me.  I grew up in a region heavily populated by Norwegians, and had been introduced at a young age to 'gravlax,' a dish of salt-cured salmon marinated in vodka and herbs.    My parents did not encourage me to eat it, partly because my mother considered the fish "raw," but also I suspect because my dad knew just how much vodka was in the dish.  Over the years, I had tried some fine renditions of gravlax in Seattle and on Orcas Island, but had never tried to make it. 

Gravlax means 'salmon in a hole,' or 'salmon in a grave.'  It refers to an ancient Scandinavian practice of burying salt-rubbed salmon in the sand to cure it with a combination of salt and pressure. 

Most of the recipes I found online and in seafood books rely on heavy use of salt, sometimes as much as half a cup.  Even after the fish is cured and rinsed, I found the result to be too salty for my taste.  I decided to revert to the type of gravlax that I consider 'traditional,' the esoteric vodka-dominated salmon of my youth.

• 1 8-inch salmon filet, as thick as possible
• 2 tablespoons coarse salt
• 1/2 cup vodka
• 1 whole lemon
• 1 bunch of fresh dill
• 1 Hungarian wax pepper
• 2 tablespoons whole yellow mustard seed
• 2 tablespoons fresh, grated ginger (optional)

For salt, I used a coarse grey sea salt, but any coarse or Kosher salt will work.  Remove the stems from the dill and chop into 1" lengths.  Thinly slice the lemon.  Rub 1 tablespoon of salt into each side of the filet.  You can poke it down into the crevices of the meat, but be careful not to split the filet open.  Place the filet in a non-reactive 8" by 8" pan , cover the salmon with slices of lemon and chopped dill, and pour the vodka over it.  Seed and finely slice the pepper and add it to the vodka along with the mustard seed.  Ginger root adds some zing, if you have it.

Cover the pan with plastic wrap and allow the salmon to marinate for 3 days, turning once or twice each day. 

The vodka quickly releases flavor from the herbs, pepper and lemon while 'cooking' the meat chemically, like ceviche.  I started gnoshing on day 2, cutting thin slices of each end and scooping up some mustard seed and dill with each slice.  The mustard seed becomes soft and bursts with a tender, flavorful crunch.  At this point, you can cut a section off for serving or snacking and either rinse it or serve it with the vodka mixture for dipping.

By day 3 or 4, the salmon is becoming distinctly alcoholic, and should be rinsed.  The color is slightly paler throughout the filet and the texture is softer.  It retains a citrusy, pickled character even after rinsing.  Wrap the filet itself tightly in plastic wrap, and consume within 3-4 days.  Serves a party if you haven't been snacking on it every day. 

I like to serve this marinated gravlax on slices of lightly toasted pumpernickel bread with a cream cheese and sour cream blend heavily spiked with fresh dill.   Very nice with a well chilled rose'.

Comments

[Stephanie]

THANK YOU!!

I recently made this gravlax. I was a littl apprehensive as I didn't see any comments to this post. After trying many salt based recipes this was my first vodka cured gravlax and I love it. I did rinse the salmon at the end of curing and there is no strong alcoholic taste. The salmon has a neutral flavor, the vodka taste is very subtle. Mostly you have is creamy, melty gravlax. YUM!

[Mary B.]

Thanks, Stephanie, I'm glad you enjoyed it! I also enjoy the cleaner taste of a vodka-marinated gravlax.

[Mary B.]

David Clark sent us this note via Facebook:

"After some research I came to your article on the subject. I am happy to say I begin my gravlax odyssey with you. it's in the fridge. A friend gave me a jalapeno infused vodka years ago and since it's been unused, in it goes. After finding no-knead bread and sourdough starter this will be the perfect meal. Now all i need is a homemade rennet. Thanks!"