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Recipe: homemade salmon lox

It’s my favorite month, you know… birthdays, autumn colors, potential snow storms, fleece weather. A three-day weekend saw August off and welcomed September with sweaty open arms. It always gets hot in early September which merely increases my anticipation of the first frost in the mountains. For the most part, we remained at home and worked through the holiday weekend to avoid the throngs of people flooding into the mountains. Except we did venture down to Denver at the last minute to score a great deal on some season passes for Crested Butte this winter.

sweeeeeeeeeeeeeet

Granted, it is technically summer until September 22nd and I accept this. If summer didn’t have such a bounty of wonderful foods, I’d be a lot less tolerant of the heat. Wild-caught Alaskan salmon graces my fishmonger’s display these days. It’s downright distracting when I’m swinging by to pick up some scallops or shrimp and then these jewel-colored filets or steaks draw my attention to the “sale” sign. Sometimes, I can’t help myself.

salmon, dill, tarragon, bay leaves, shallots, black pepper, green peppercorns, vodka, kosher salt, sugar

I’ve been wanting to cure my own lox for several years now. I’m not sure if I should be happy about finally getting around to doing it or if I should be sad that it took me this long. Part of the problem is that I wanted to use wild salmon rather than farmed salmon. Farmed salmon is available year-round while wild salmon is seasonal. Summers kept slipping past me before I remembered to make lox, and farmed salmon doesn’t really appeal to me these days.

the filet will have pin bones

remove those with some (clean) pliers

What I love about making lox is how easy it is. Aside from finding space in my refrigerator, it was just a bit of chopping, mixing, smothering, and wrapping. Most of the work doesn’t involve you at all.

mix the sugar and salt together

chop the dill

slice shallots

mix the herbs and spices and aromatics together

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Recipe: huckleberry ice cream

Last summer, my friend and expert wild foods forager, Wendy, introduced me to foraging. It was the inevitable marriage of two of my loves: the backcountry and food. Make that THREE of my loves: the backcountry, food, and plants. I’m a little bit of a plant geek, although nothing close to Wendy’s level of knowledge and geekdom. Truth be told, eating the food is probably the least favorite aspect of foraging for me. I really love the outdoors, the thrill of the hunt (I tell Wendy that I think porcini hunting would be far more exciting if the mushrooms could run… and scream), and learning the native plants. Familiarity with the plants and their various medicinal or culinary uses makes me cherish these mountains even more than I already do.

So when Wendy told me she was going to show me huckleberries last summer, she said, “You’re gonna kick yourself when you realize what they are.” And she was correct. The plant is a low-growing ground cover over a good portion of our mountains. It is EVERYWHERE and I’ve always admired it as a pretty understory on the forested slopes. It’s been there this whole time and I never knew they were huckleberry plants! The plants seem to thrive above 9000 feet, but peter out near treeline (somewhere around 10,800 or 11,000 feet). The berries are small here in the Rockies and quite well hidden, especially if you don’t know to look for them.

huckleberry plant

the berries are underneath

Of course, as with all things, please don’t go randomly picking berries that you aren’t familiar with and popping them into your mouth. That’s just bad form… and it’s dumb. The first time I tasted a fresh huckleberry, I was blown away by the intensity of it. Huckleberries have the perfect balance of tartness, sweetness, and a big flavor for such a tiny berry. Wendy described it perfectly, “Huckleberries are what blueberries aspire to be.” It’s so true. I had a hunch that the huckleberries were nearing peak a few weeks ago, but I was so busy with out-of-town visitors and work that I didn’t get out to pick any until last week. Most of the patches were bare, but a few choice locations had some dark purple berries. I managed half of what I needed for a batch of ice cream. My fear was that I would have to augment the huckleberries with store-bought blueberries and wind up with bluckleberry ice cream. I tried another trail the following morning and was able to squeak out enough for the recipe. These were a little less ripe, but still so full of flavor that some sugar would brighten them up easily enough.

my end-of-season haul

make a compote: huckleberries, water, lemon, sugar

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Recipe: porcini mushroom quiche

I’m running on fumes here, logging a handful of hours of sleep a night. I think summer is Crazy Time, because there is Just.Too.Much going on. Oh, it’s all good stuff, but it never lets up… until autumn. Early morning is our favorite time to get outside for hiking, biking, trail running. The sun is low and the air is nice and cool (or cold if we’re lucky) and very few people are out and about in the mountains. It’s a great time to see wildlife too, because they tend to be morning types.

cross a lovely mountain stream

visit a nice, cold alpine lake

spot some pretty rose crown (or queen’s crown) blooming in the high country

Afternoons of late have been solely dedicated to food. Some of it is shooting food and most of it is processing the gems of summer for Future Me to cook with and enjoy from October through June.

15 pounds of tomatoes: sauced and diced

You’d think I’d catch a break at night, but that’s the time to catch up on emails, photo processing, computer stuff and other work. But wait! We’ve had a string of awesome nighttime lightning storms marching overhead, dumping rain, and lighting up our skies. Jeremy and I were admiring one such storm Monday night from our deck door (because it’s fun to watch when danger of death is low). I had my camera running on timed, long exposures and caught a few nice strikes.

i just love the squigglies

As the strikes became more frequent and drew closer, I pointed the camera at our local ridge. A few more lightning bolts fired out of my field of view and I questioned my decision to move the camera. Then a giant column of blinding light struck repeatedly for several seconds on the ridge in front of us. It caused us to jump and we both involuntarily closed our eyes because it was so bloody bright! We heard cracking and popping in addition to multiple thunderous booms. I couldn’t see for several seconds, but when I blinked, I could see the negative image of the bolt across my field of view. It saturated my exposure, so I had to crank the processing to tease it out. It was really effing cool.

mother nature, you win

As tired as I am, I’m sad to report that my early mornings spent foraging in the mountains are coming to an end until next summer (I think). I’ll be grateful for the sleep, but will surely miss those treasure hunts with my pal Wendy.

especially when we find beauties like this

So let’s do one last fresh porcini mushroom recipe, shall we? I’ve been wanting to make a quiche with fresh porcinis ever since last summer. The delicate flavor of a fresh porcini profiles nicely with cheeses, dairy, eggs, butter – always with the butter. The majority of you probably don’t have access to fresh porcini and that’s okay. Feel free to substitute another fresh mushroom here. Personally, I’d go for something more exciting than a white button mushroom if you can find it. Just don’t be picking random mushrooms from the ground without knowing 100% for sure 1) what it is and 2) that it is edible and non-poisonous. I’m serious – don’t be stupid or I’ll have to come over and slap you.

the filling: milk, cream, onion, eggs, mushrooms, gruyère, butter, flour, salt, prosciutto

let’s make the crust first: butter, ice water, flour, sugar, salt

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