I generally prefer my salmon raw or cured rather than cooked. But grilled salmon, still dark pink at the center and a little charred at the edges, is a soft, silky exception.
Grilling salmon to this degree of perfection isn’t easy, though.
First of all, salmon has a tendency to stick. If you don’t have a grilling basket, and if your grate isn’t clean and well oiled, the fish will glue itself onto the grill, then tear when you try to remove it. Always give the grate a brushing even if you think it’s clean enough. In this case, being extra fussy will work in your favor.
Second, grilled salmon is also easy to overcook, going from buttery to chalky in less time than it takes to open that chilled bottle of white you thought you were going to sip while you cooked. Open it before you start. Salmon grilling is no time for multitasking.
Placing the fish over indirect heat gives you a little more leeway. It slows the process, allowing the fish to cook more evenly than it would sitting directly over the fury of glowing coals, while still taking on their smoky taste. You’ll need to keep an eye on it, but a few distracted seconds won’t be disastrous.
Also, if you can buy your fish in one big piece, instead of individual servings, it will be less likely to overcook. It’s done when the surface is browned in spots, and the center, when poked with a knife, is tender but doesn’t yet flake.
Once cooked, you have loads of options for serving it, either plain with a squeeze of lemon or lime, or more gussied up.
I love turning grilled salmon into a salad, smothering it in a spicy, limey dressing while it’s hot so it can absorb all the flavors. And the flavors of this particular dressing were inspired by nuoc cham, the traditional Vietnamese dipping sauce made from lime juice, fish sauce, sugar, and often chiles or garlic. I used shallots instead of garlic, and added a little oil to turn it into a sweet, pungent dressing.
Then, just before serving, I plopped the fish onto a bed of crisp lettuces and vegetables, and topped it with fresh herbs. The fish fell apart into large, satiny chunks, and I ate it warm and tangy against the cool vegetables — and even cooler wine.