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By Root 839 0

it yields a particularly moist, delicate, and lightly salted gravlax, since the salinity of the salt block does not migrate as readily into the fish flesh as a packed cure of loose salt. Also, because you don’t need plates and weights, and because the salt blocks can be reused over and over again, the method boasts a certain elegance and economy of tools. See Cooking on Salt Blocks for more about salt blocks.

2 large (6 by 9 by 2-inch) blocks Himalayan pink salt

Bunch of fresh dill sprigs

2 teaspoons freshly ground white pepper

½ teaspoon coriander seeds

½ teaspoon dry yellow mustard

¼ cup brown sugar

1 pound salmon fillet, skin on, pin bones removed

Melba toast or crackers, for serving

Cover one salt block with half of the dill sprigs.

In a small bowl, combine the pepper, coriander, mustard, and sugar. Coat the fleshy parts of the salmon with the sugar mixture. Place on the dill-covered salt block. Cover the salmon with the remaining dill sprigs. Place the second salt block on top. You now have a salt block and salmon sandwich. Wrap the whole thing in plastic wrap and refrigerate until the fish feels resilient, but not firm, to the touch. The top surface should be dry and the sides moist, and it will have lost its raw look, with the flesh having turned slightly opaque. Also, it will feel heavy for its size. This will take one day if you are using a thin fillet of wild salmon and up to three days if you are using a thick fillet of farmed salmon.

When the gravlax is ready, unwrap it completely, remove it from between the salt blocks, rinse off the seasoning, and pat dry. To serve, put the salmon, skin side down, on a cutting board and, starting at the wider end, slice thinly on a slant. Serve on melba toast or crackers. A dollop of crème fraîche or a squeeze of Meyer lemon is a nice addition.

SAUERKRAUT

MAKES ABOUT 1 GALLON

Instructed by my mother to feed the cats, I would push the door open, inch by inch, watching the sliver of light from the kitchen stab into the darkness, waiting for it to widen gradually into a triangle across the floor, bright enough to reassure me that nothing was going to attack my hand as it darted through the gap to flip on the light switch inside the garage. For a month every year, our garage changed from a dark and hazardous clutter of bikes, chainsaws, and gardening equipment to a truly terrifying place. Even in daylight I avoided the place, but when obliged to enter—such as when forced to feed the cats (whom I’d gladly have let starve), or if I really needed a bike or a skateboard—I kept a keen eye on the cinder block and plank shelves at the back, where malevolent orange enamel pots burped with sinister unpredictability. Days went by. Cobwebs formed (the better to ensnare the cats). Whenever I might show the slightest hint of getting on familiar terms with this horror—of letting down my guard—the pots would burp again, the lids would clatter, the cats would scatter, trailing cobwebs into the attic, and I would fly to my mother’s legs and cling to them so tightly that she’d shriek in alarm. My reward for surviving? A measured respect for the mysteries of fermentation and a tangy mound of steaming sauerkraut bedded with boiled Polish and German sausages. It was worth it.

2 large heads (about 5 pounds each) green cabbage

¼ cup (1 small handful) finely ground sel gris, traditional salt, or rock salt

¼ cup caraway seeds

Wash your hands very thoroughly before starting. Also, sterilize all equipment or run it through the dishwasher before using. Avoid using any aluminum vessels or utensils.

Remove the loose outer leaves from the cabbages and keep any that aren’t broken. Wash the cabbage heads and the reserved leaves. Cut the cabbage heads in half, remove the cores, and cut the halves into wedges.

Slice the cabbage finely with a knife or mandoline or the slicing blade of a food processor. Put the cabbage in a big bowl and toss with the salt. Knead the cabbage and salt until the slices of cabbage become malleable and release a good deal of their water. Toss in the caraway