Homemade Gravlax with Wild Alaskan Salmon

Gravlax is a wonderfully simple way to showcase the the rich, buttery quality of wild salmon from the Copper River. Gravlax is a Swedish specialty that cures the salmon with a mixture of salt, sugar and spices. It’s a simple, no-cook technique requiring nothing more than a little prep work and time. There many of variations of gravlax. Our version uses a basic combination of granulated and brown sugars, coarse sea salt and black pepper that lets the luscious flavor and texture of the wild salmon really shine. You could customize this in any number of ways – swap black pepper for earthy white pepper, add lemon or orange rind, etc. Serve thinly sliced on multigrain crackers, garnished with chopped fresh dill and grated lemon zest. Or you could go old school and serve it with fresh bagels, cream cheese, capers and thinly sliced red onion.

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Grilled Salmon with Stone Fruit Salsa

I developed this grilled salmon recipe when I got home from Cordova, Alaska bearing a few pounds of Copper River salmon. A simple salsa made with summer’s stone fruits is the perfect accompaniment.

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Nourishing Hero: Paul Greenberg

This is the first in our Nourishing Heroes series, in which we feature the individuals and organizations who inspire us. These heroes exemplify our philosophy that food should nourish body, soul and planet. They’re dedicated to bringing all of us fare that’s healthy, safe, sustainable and delicious. Do you know a Nourishing Hero we should feature on NOURISH Evolution? Let us know who inspires you!

All book signings–especially those about food–should be at restaurants. I think so, after meeting author Paul Greenberg when he came to Ammo in Los Angeles to promote his new book Four Fish: The Future of the Last Wild Food (The Penguin Press). It was an ideal setting for readers to meet him, have some books signed and dine on a special menu highlighting sustainably farmed seafood.

“There are a lot of people out there who are confused about fish, both wild and farmed,” Greenberg noted. “Fifty years ago, everything was wild. Now, about half of what we eat is farmed.”

He pointed to plunging numbers of Atlantic bluefin tuna and noted “Atlantic salmon are commercially extinct”–meaning the salmon still ply Atlantic waters, but not in large enough numbers to make them worth catching.

For Greenberg, an avid lifelong angler, it’s all about catching fish. But in 2000, while fishing in the waters off his native Connecticut, he discovered that the mackerel and codfish that were so plentiful in his youth had virtually vanished. He then set off on a sojourn, fishing from Maine to the Carolinas. Everywhere, the story was the same: Fish were smaller and fewer, and fishing seasons where shorter.  Greenberg also visited fish markets wherever he went, only to find that local, wild catch had given way to a nearly uniform selection of salmon, sea bass, cod and tuna–the four fish of his book’s title.

It’s no surprise that Greenberg, a frequent New York Times Magazine contributor and former W.K. Kellogg Foundation Food and Society Policy Fellow, wanted some answers. He embarked on a global odyssey to understand the story behind these fish. Along the way, he visited a native salmon fishery in Alaska and a sea bass farm in Greece. He went cod-fishing off New England and diving in Hawaii to observe an innovative tuna aquaculture operation. His book is filled with larger-than-life characters, both those who passionately advocate preserving wild fish and those who are just as committed to aquaculture.

Ultimately, Greenberg supports sustainably managed wild fisheries and environmentally sensitive fish farming. What’s needed, he contends, are global efforts to preserve wild fish (including reducing the world’s fishing fleets and protecting the bottom of the marine food chain). At the same time, responsible aquaculture must be developed to satisfy our growing appetite for seafood. That means choosing fish that don’t require lots of feed, don’t threaten the wild population and can thrive in aquaculture environments.

Our menu that night–oysters, mussels, clams, Arctic char and barramundi–was as a tasty example of what farmed fish could be, Greenberg observed. The bivalves filter their food from the water and “don’t require any feed whatsoever.”

Finfish like Arctic char and barramundi are “great for aquaculture because it mimics their wild setting,” Greenberg explained.

In the wild, Arctic char congregate in large numbers to spend their dormant winters in tundra lakes under a thick layer of ice. In their native Australia, barramundi gather in stagnant billabongs. Both types of fish are accustomed to high-density living, which makes them disease-resistant so they can thrive in ecologically sound recirculating tanks. As a bonus, they have relatively low feed requirements.

Interestingly, they’re also relatively new to many American diners. But as fish like these start turning up on restaurant menus and at supermarket seafood counters, we can begin to re-diversify our seafood palate beyond the big four.

In the meantime, Greenberg’s motto works for me: “Wild forever, farmed when necessary.”

Meet our other Nourishing Heroes:

VIDEO: Sourcing Sustainable Seafood

Lia talks with Spencer and Janelle about sourcing sustainable seafood (and cooks up our tasty Curried Mussels) on ABC’s View from the Bay. Watch this video to discover how easy it is to cook mussels — and what you should ask the folks at the fish counter.

Salmon Terroir

I’ve been eating a lot of salmon lately. When the first catch from Copper River came in, I couldn’t resist jumping on the bandwagon. Then I discovered Taku River Sockeye at my local market. And Dave, my fish guy at the farmers market, has had a run of king salmon from Washington that’s so buttery rich I practically gobble it up before it hits the grill.

Up until a couple of years ago though, salmon was salmon was salmon to me; some better than others, of course, but it was hit or miss as to why. And then I visited Cordova, Alaska on the Copper River Delta and had an enlightening talk with local fisherman Bill Webber.

Bill said that Copper River salmon have a certain quality to them because of the heavy sediment in the river and I said, “you mean like terroir?” He gave me a funny look and I explained that the term meant a certain ephemeral quality imparted on a wine by the place the grapes were grown. Somewhere during my explanation Bill’s head began to bob in agreement and, voila, my salmon-wine analogy was born.

1) There are “varietals” of salmon. For those of you who are fishermen, forgive me. But I really had no idea there were different types of salmon all swimming around in one place. I thought, conveniently, that one type existed in Alaska, another in California, and yet another in the Atlantic. Yet lo and behold, I come to find there are five species—King (Chinook), Sockeye (Red), Coho (Silver), Keta (Chum) and Pink (there are also Steelhead, often referred to as Rainbow Trout, and Atlantic Salmon, which is no longer wild here in the U.S.). These are like the Cabernet Sauvignon and Syrahs and such of the salmon world, each one with its own inherent set of qualities common amongst the species.

2) Terroir exists in fish too. As I mentioned, Bill—and several other people from fishermen to cannery-men to chefs—talked about the unique quality of Copper River salmon, and that began to make a lot more sense to me when I flew over the river and saw it spreading like a spilt latte into the delta. The mineral-rich brew and high headwaters here gives the fish a succulent flavor and silken texture that not all salmon possess. However, as with grapes, this isn’t necessarily a “good” or “bad” scenario . . . it’s simply a unique taste and texture that reflects the place it’s from.

3) There are “appellations” in the fishing industry too. When Bill was explaining the various associations and labels to me, yet another parallel became clear: salmon displays terroir too. I began thinking of Alaska salmon as the equivalent of “California wine.” A bit tighter geographic area and I had the “Sonoma County” equivalent of the Prince Williams Sound area around Cordova. The particular appellation of Copper River would be akin to Alexander Valley or Dry Creek Valley here in Healdsburg. That was a revelation for me.

So while we’re at the peak of salmon season, try several different “varietals” (from either Washington or Alaska, since California and Oregon are under a voluntary hiatus to let stocks replenish) and see which ones you prefer. If you want to talk about what kind of wine to sip with your salmon … you’ll have to ask my husband.

Cold Salmon Sandwich with Lemon-Caper Mayo

Buy a little extra salmon the next time you’re fillet-shopping and cook it all up at once. The next day, pair the cold leftover fish with a hit of lemon-spiked mayo and briny capers for a fancy-looking salmon sandwich that’s  perfect lunch for one.

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Are We Reaching The End of the Line For Seafood?

By Cheryl Sternman Rule

Pay attention, seafood lovers: According to The End of the Line, a searing documentary about the industrial fishing industry, if we don’t change current global fishing practices, our oceans will be depleted of edible fish by 2048.

You heard me. And I’m not talking about faraway oceans halfway around the world, but our collective oceans. All of the oceans.

So in honor of World Oceans Day on June 8, I urge you to plop yourself in a chair and watch The End of the Line, which vividly portrays some of the most beautiful marine life ever caught on film while delivering a potent message: We are all responsible for effecting change on this issue.

endoflineRupert Murray directed the film, which was adapted from British journalist Charles Clover’s book of the same name.  It’s narrated with controlled urgency by actor Ted Danson, who sits on the board of the conservation nonprofit Oceana and has long advocated for responsible fishing practices. The film is carefully rendered, and avoids scare tactics while underscoring the stark scientific realities about the sorry state of our seas.

Why should you care? Although you may enjoy salmon fillet, halibut steak, or shrimp skewers only occasionally, more than 1.2 billion people the world over consume fish as a staple of their diets.  If current trends continue, the world’s poorest people, who rely on fish for their food and livelihoods, are the most likely to suffer, at least at first. Widespread ecosystem ramifications will follow, such as jellyfish infestations and an overabundance of algae.

How did this happen? The issue of overfishing comes down to politics and economics. Governments grant fishing rights to multinational corporations who, in some cases, have abused their privileges by allowing fishermen to use destructive fishing methods, like bottom trawlers that scrape the ocean floor. At the same time, consumers in wealthy industrialized regions–the U.S., European Union, and Japan, among others–continue to demand top-flight, predatory species like tuna for their dinner plates, so catching these fish in enormous quantities can be incredibly lucrative. The film uses the bluefin as a jarring example of what can happen when a species is so prized for its culinary excellence: fleets will break international marine laws to deliver the fish to desirous diners, even though the bluefin is widely believed to be endangered. As long as there is a strong demand, the supply will be fished until it’s completely exhausted.

Ultimately, the film’s sobering message is tempered by a sense of hope and offers concrete action we can take to reverse current trends and stabilize fish stocks. Here are three things you can do:

  • Choose sustainable seafood (like our Super Seven Sustainable Seafood Picks).  Download a SeafoodWatch pocket guide or mobile phone app, and seek out fish certified sustainable by the Marine Stewardship Council.  Support responsible fishing practices, like those in Alaska.
  • Eat smaller fish. Add abundant and fast-growing lower-on-the-food-chain species like mackerel, herring, anchovies, and sardines to your seafood repertoire.
  • Ask questions. Demand to know where your fish was caught and using which methods. If you don’t like the answers, speak out.

Your first course of action, though, is the easiest: rent The End of the Line.