In addition, in the better farms they are given proper amounts of protein, oils and fats so that texture and flavor remains consistent from fish to fish. Since fat is a significant component of flavor, wild-caught salmon tend to be less flavorful.įarmed salmon live a less active life than those in the wild and therefore have a smoother and more buttery flavor. Salmon in the wild roam the waters freely and where they are caught in their journey can affect the texture and flavor from fish to fish. At the time, much of the salmon came from Nova Scotia, and so the name “Nova” was born and remains to this day.īorn to Be Mild: The texture and flavor of a salmon depends a great deal on where it was caught. When sugar and smoke were added to the mix, voila, smoked salmon was born.
This new product was called “Lox,” the newly-spelled name for Lachs, the German (And Yiddish) word for salmon. At first, the salt curing process produced a salmon that was very salty. It was only natural that when the Jewish immigrants arrived in America, they would make the jump from herring to salmon, which was abundant here and far more luscious, with its silky texture and delicate flesh. Refrigeration was not readily available, so salt curing became the solution. When times were bad and anti-Semitism flourished, ways had to be found to make the fish last. TRADITION! Tradition.īefore Jews immigrated to America, when many of them were still in the old country, they ate herring. Why did it happen? Why is it important? Tevye answered both questions with two words. It was a ritual there had to be lox on the Sunday breakfast table. On Sunday mornings in the 1940’s and 50’s, Jewish people lined the streets of New York to get their lox fix from the appetizing stores around at the time. Len Berk worked for 26 years behind the lox counter at Zabar’s.Smoked salmon or lox? That is the question. It took some time for me to recover and then I felt so good because I knew that I couldn’t have taken better care of her even if I had known who she was.
“You mean all these years I’ve been having lox talk with Woody Allen’s mother and I didn’t know who she was?” “She’s Woody Allen’s mother! I thought you knew.” “Is he a good son? Does he visit her often?” I asked. “Oh, it’s the son he pays for everything,” Olga said. “This stuff costs a pretty penny, $24 a pound.” “But apparently her tastebuds are still working since you’re buying smoked salmon for her,” I said. “I’m so sorry to hear such news.” I tried looking for an upside. “She has Alzheimer’s and it wouldn’t be good if I brought her in.” My relationship with the old lady matured, and it wasn’t long before we were discussing other types of smoked fish.Ī year passed and, on her weekly visits to the store, she started appearing in a wheelchair. On past occasions, Olga and I had discussed the difficulties of aging and she seemed to both understand and appreciate my advice. I told Olga that there was no problem with the questions and suggested that the woman was old and fading and that, although I knew how difficult her job could be at times, she could try to be kinder. The woman was obviously going through that stage of life when she could recognize the loss of her powers on a daily basis. We had repeated conversations about how “not salty the salmon was, this time.” On one occasion her health care worker - I don’t know her name so let’s just call her Olga - felt that her charge was, perhaps, asking too many questions and taking up too much of my time.
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