This post is for Kathy, who asked how to make Greek style preserved salted fish. In Spain, as in Greece, this is a classic appetizer.
Palamida is the Greek name of bonito, a small fish in the tuna family. In Sephardic kitchens (or at least in those of the Rhodesli), that’s the only name given to the salt-cured dish made from it. Reader Ino Alvo recalls the word soymas from the Salonican Jewish community. I have yet to figure out the etymology of the word – probably Ladino – though it is at least partially based in Greek. The Spanish name for the same dish is mojama, which derives from mujaffifa (or something similar), an Arabic word meaning dehydrated. Language lesson over.
Curing, or “cooking” fish in salt is an ancient and universal preservation technique, used by the Vikings as much as by the ancient Greeks and Phoenicians – both of whom had trade colonies in Iberia thousands of years before the Arabs arrived. If salting fish was commonly practiced among coastal peoples, it was the Portuguese who established Atlantic salt cod as a staple food throughout Europe beginning in the 1500′s (as an aside, the Portuguese traders by that time were mostly conversos).
Back to the fish itself. The longer you leave fish – or anything – in salt, the harder and drier it becomes and the longer it can be stored. Gravlax – cured salmon, is left only a few hours in a mix of salt and sugar and it’s good to go, remaining supple and edible without need for any further handling. Bacalao, salt cod, is sold in varying degrees of saltiness, and must be reconstituted in cold water before proceeding with a recipe, sometimes for several days. Not so, mojama. Traditionally meant to be eaten as an appetizer, palamida/mojama is simply sliced very thin, marinated in olive oil and served as is or with sliced bread and a squeeze of lemon or orange juice, if you like (yes, of course you can use it in recipes to delicious effect).
To make palamida, see first of all if you can buy a fresh palamida or bonito. If not, buy a good piece of fresh tuna. If there’s a dark section in the flesh, cut that away (or don’t let them sell it to you in the first place). Remove the skin, clean the fish well in cold running water to remove all blood, and pat it dry. Lay the fish in a glass or ceramic baking dish in a thick bed of sea salt. Cover it completely with more sea salt. Let the fish rest for three to four days, pouring off the liquid each day and adding back more salt to keep the fish well covered. Unless you’re curing a very thick piece of fish or planning on keeping it for months on end, I find weighting it unnecessary. (A large piece of tuna can be cut into smaller pieces.)
At the end of the salt curing, the fish will have become very firm. Now sufficiently preserved so as not to rot, it will continue to dry and firm up even more, and tradition calls for allowing it to air dry for a couple of weeks longer before eating. Chances are you don’t want to fill your home with the odor of drying fish, so just wipe away all the surface salt, wrap the fish and store it in a cold place – dry, of course. If you’ve made a lot, wrap small portions and freeze them.
To eat: slice very thin and reconstitute for an hour or two in olive oil. This is an instance in which the quality of your olive oil seriously matters, because you’re eating it raw. Flavor counts.
Fascinating. My Italian relatives stopped making bacalao for the very reason you mention, the strong odor of the salt fish in close quarters. I have always loved fish- it solves all my kosher problems by being parve, plus it is healthy! LOL. I tend to find myself eating a lot of fish- plus I am in the midwest, many miles from a coastline, and fish to us had the connotation of luxury, much different from beef or chicken fed on the ample corn. I don’t want to be pesky, but did you get the e-mail I sent back in response to yours earlier this month? I know you’re busy, and writing, and have a life. I just want to know if you got it.
sincerely Mark L.
Yes, Mark, I got your lovely email – ALL of it!
I promise I will write back, though perhaps in smaller chapters 
Best, Janet
After reading this post I member that the proceedure of salting the fish described is similar to the way soymas or soymecos I mentioned before are prepared, with the difference that a weight of heavy stones or bricks is placed on top of the fish,presumably to exact more water. The fish is left in this state for a forthnight or so. That is all I remember, as after all it was a long time ago when I was 7 or 8 years of age.
Regarding the topic of lakerda being the equivalent of palamida (Παλαμίδα in Greek) and bonito, the facts I know are as follows:
Smoked lakerda was available in abundance here in Israel in the 1950′s and 1960′s, at shops selling Greek specialties (Levinsky Street if anyone knows), but later disappeared altogether. Then the smoked palamida made its appearance as a substitute of Lakerda. But palamida is a small fish weighing around 600-700 grams; the palamida slices are much smaller than lakerda used to be.
I have in my delicacies cupboard several tins of choice Spanish tuna labeled “Bonito del norte” which I understand is the name used by the Spaniards for tuna.
And indeed they contain large chunks of big fish such as tuna, and certainly not of palamida-sized fish!
That is why I stay puzzled on this issue!
It is confusing, Ino! ‘Thunnus’ is a genus of saltwater fish, and within it there are several different species of what we think of as ‘tuna’ – Albacore, Bluefin, Yellowfin, etc. The confusion is compounded by our using a single word differently in different languages. While Bonito del norte is Albacore tuna, Bonito is not in the tuna genus at all (though it’s in the same family). And the Turkish word for true tuna is ‘palamut’, which is essentially Palamida, but it apparently refers to a different species altogether than the Greek word does…!
That said, while lakerda may well be made from a single species of tuna, my understanding is that the word ‘lakerda’ refers specifically to the process of pickling that fish, not to the species itself. I would surmise then, that the smoked lakerda you recall might first have been pickled and then smoked. Would that fit with your recollection? Either way, its disappearance suggests to me that lakerda is (or was) made not from Albacore (a/k/a Bonito del norte) but from Bluefin tuna, which is on the verge of extinction from overfishing.
Just to confuse you a little more
Thank you so much for remembering me! The history lesson is so interesting. Having a Turkish background my family and friends called it “Lakerda”. While in Turkey, a few years ago, we found it in the market simply sold in cans. I am excited to be able to make it soon, and enjoy a taste from my childhood! This was VERY appreciated!
It’s my pleasure, Kathy