The first, best, and last smoked salmon I have ever eaten originates from that charred outhouse looking structure standing in the backyard of Stam's farm in rural Washington state.
So with almost forty pounds of wild Alaskan sockeye salmon that The Crumpster and I brought home from Alaska (please don't buy farmed salmon ) we set out to spend a day smoking fish with our comrade, Stam. Here is the photo essay:
A crock of salmon in brine, night before smoking day
Placing the Brined Salmon on the racks to smoke, early morning of
Placing the racks inside the smokehouse, that's Stam's gray head
Smoking All Day! Stam chainsawed up a bunch of alder wood.
Filling in the Gaps between checking the smoking fish with some elk hunting. Stam bearing rifle, The Crumpster hiking in Crocs.
Cooling Down the Salmon, nighttime
Vacumn Packing Up the Smoked Salmon, next morning. Stams hands.
The pile of smoked salmon!
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