Then I went to the supermarket. The available salmon looked totally washed out, color-wise, and was cut into sad, thin fillets. Skin-on. I asked the fish guy if he could skin it. He said no. I brought the fish home and prepared to cure it. It smelled fishy.
I wanted to be a good sport. I wanted to suck it up and prepare the recipe as written, but there was no way I was eating this sorry fish without cooking it. I flipped the page and noticed a bonne idee in the sidebar for Roasted Cured Salmon. Perfect! I could still participate, without poisoning myself and my loved ones. I cured the salmon overnight. I don't know anything about curing, so I was not prepared to find the dish full of water the next day. It makes sense in retrospect, but a heads up would have been nice.
I opened the oven door, and the fish stink flashed me back to when I was a kid and my Mom would drive past the South Street Seaport on the FDR Drive to get to Sloan Kettering Hospital. Not good. Matt told me to stop being a baby and just try it. He popped a piece in his mouth...and gagged. I hate to admit how much I enjoyed watching him spin around, looking for help, before spitting it out into his hand. I asked him if it was as delicious as he thought it would be. His response: "That's PURE SALT!! Next time, just trust Dorie!" He said it would be better uncooked, because cooking it concentrated the salt. That's fine, but Dorie provided the roasting option. How was I supposed to know it would be wretched?
|Be VERY afraid.|
Conclusion: Hated it. I'm so curious to see what the other French Fridays with Dorie participants thought of the jarred version. Maybe--maybe--if it gets a good response, I'll try it again. Maybe. Probably not, but maybe.