Meet Julian, aka Mr Flax, Sydney’s uncrowned king of smoked salmon

AVIVA LOWY meets Julian Flax, a one-man band who smokes exquisite salmon in the kitchen of a Sydney synagogue, and delivers it to his customers, with a little help from his dad

NO KIDDUSH IS COMPLETE without it. Every Friday night dinner is more ‘heimish’ with it. And every celebration becomes a feast when it’s put on the table. Smoked salmon. 

But not all smoked salmon is created equal. There’s a world of difference between an over-salted oily slice liberated from a tin or a thawed soggy one from the supermarket freezer, and a fresh, plump hand-sliced sliver of succulent salmon.

Enter Mr Flax - Julian, to you - who just might be making the best smoked salmon you’ve never tasted.  

The reason it’s so hard to get your hands on a slice of Mr Flax is because his artisan-crafted salmon is produced by a team of one - himself - and delivered by him from Sydney’s north shore, with a little help from his dad.

Only a handful of shops and cafes stock it, with the rest available for online purchase and delivery once a month. Miss ordering by the production cut-off, and you’re out in the cold.

That’s because Julian is very particular about the fish he uses. It has to be fresh Ora King salmon from NZ. “It’s got the highest Omega 3, it has a nice soft texture, more flavour and is consistently delicious,” he says.

“When I cure it, I draw out the water moisture but the oils stay in, which makes it a far superior product.”

He should know, because he’s experimented with different types of salmon and every sort of smoking method. “I’ve tried curing Australian salmon and entered into the Sydney Royal Competition - they only accept Australian produce. I won two silvers and a gold, which is great, but it just wasn’t as enjoyable a taste for me.

“Australian Atlantic salmon is a different species to the King Salmon. It’s like comparing grass-fed to grain-fed beef.”

Julian has used this forensic knowledge to perfect his recipes through old-fashioned trial and error. First, he tried salt only, then sugar to balance the salt. He played around with the ratios, the types of sugar and salt, black pepper, white pepper, herbs, spices, beetroot, alcohol . . .

When he lists the variations he juggled, it’s hard to believe he was able to settle on just one. Well, three really, because apart from what he calls his “straight up salmon”, there’s a vodka-infused gravalax and a pastrami salmon.

“I love beef pastrami and it needs that fat. My salmon has got that richness and fattiness and goes really well with those spices. I also smoke my pastrami salmon which adds another element.”

Which brings us to the smoke, the magic intangible ingredient which Julian finessed. “Smoke is a huge variable. There are so many woods and temperatures at which you smoke it. Cold smoking is below 30 degrees. If I smoke at 22 or 18 degrees it changes. Density of smoke and the time you smoke, all with constant airflow.”

It’s clear that Julian does nothing by half-measures. As his father says, when he takes up an interest, it’s hook, line and sinker; an apt analogy for a salmon smoker. In his youth, Julian earned the nickname Mad Dog as the star player of the Lindfield rugby team.

Before he turned his talents to perfecting smoked salmon, Julian had always been obsessed with food. That’s not surprising when you learn that his father, the sometimes-delivery guy, is Graham Flax, the man behind some of Sydney’s best-loved kosher catering companies - Cherry Bim, Passion8 and Amazing Taste.

He won awards competing against mainstream caterers, which is no mean feat. Preparing fine cuisine which meets kosher requirements has been likened to “cooking with one hand tied behind your back,” says Flax the elder.

Graham’s culinary skills were also to the fore at home when Julian was growing up. “He was the only person who cooked at home,” says Flax the younger. "My mum, like she’s burnt rice in a rice cooker." 

Julian made his first foray into professional catering at the age of 15 when his father asked him if he wanted to come to work in the unglamorous role of “dish pig”.

While he continued to take shifts on and off in his father’s business, he was keen to try something else, and at 16 scored a job at Max Brenner’s chocolate cafe through a high school friend who was a supervisor there.

While finishing high school then going on to study hospitality management at TAFE, Julian continued to work at Max Brenner, rising to the rank of manager. Then he moved to the Lindt cafe in Sydney’s Martin Place. (Yes, that Lindt cafe which was the site of a deadly siege, but only after his time there was over.)

Julian noticed that customers were more interested in coffee at their business meetings and lunches than sweets and chocolates. So when plans for a new Chatswood Lindt cafe - which he would manage - fell through, Julian decided to move into specialty coffee.

After a couple of stints working in cafés, he started toying with the idea of setting up his own cafe or eatery, when he was approached by someone who wanted him to manage a poke bar. This was before poke became popular in Australia. In preparation, he thought he’d try out a few recipes and play around with it. “And then I just kind of got a little bit infatuated with curing different fish and trying combinations.”

Julian decided not to accept the business offer but setting up by himself seemed a financial hurdle too great, with prohibitive rents making the viability difficult.

Just as well he was able to enlist his father’s help to bring his salmon to market. “I spoke to one of my dad’s contacts, who has helped set up huge companies to deal with food safety regulations. Salmon is considered a high-risk product and you don’t want to make anyone sick.”

Julian had lots of questions. “Can I operate out of my home? Can I modify my kitchen to do it?” The answers were no.  That’s when Sydney’s North Shore Synagogue entered the picture.

“My dad knew about that kitchen and I don’t think it was being used. He asked and they said it’s available, but I had to get that up to spec for a production kitchen which took a lot of work. I had to build my smoker and get it approved by the food authority. 

His custom-built smoker incorporates a smoke generator which he’s connected to a ‘vessel’ - a modified refrigerator which was broken but, “I fixed with a compressor. I’ve named it Frankie, because it’s kind of like Frankenstein. It’s a very efficient smoker that I’ve built and didn’t cost me $55,000, and I get a really good result.”

It may not be the Rolls Royce of the fish smoking world, but even ‘Frankie’ is some notches up from his earliest attempt with a garbage bin he’d bought from Bunnings.

I get a sense of his dogged enthusiasm when we meet at my house. Walking through the garden he tells me about hand pollinating the passionfruit vine he planted at his parent’s place which went rampant and had to be pulled out; and the chillis he cultivated using a special tent and a heat lamp, and then sent interstate to an expert to have appraised.

Julian’s fastidious approach means his salmon is costly to produce, and that makes it too expensive for many restaurants or cafes to use and make a margin. “They can buy a salmon which isn’t as good, but if you put it on a giant sandwich with 10 other ingredients, you can’t really taste the salmon.”

However, a couple of cafes do use Mr Flax, and a handful of providores stock packets of his salmon, the latter mainly in Sydney’s eastern suburbs.

“Every now and then I want to quality control my product, and I go to a shop which sells it and grab a random packet and buy it, just to reassure myself that it is still consistent with what I set out to do: to make something that’s not on the market and better than anyone else can produce.”

Sydneysiders can order online at mrflax.com.au; Mr Flax is stocked by the Bondi Fruitologist, Kingsmore Meats at Rose Bay, 1888 Certified butcher in Double Bay, Field to Fork in Vaucluse and Wholefoods House Woollahra.

Main photo: Julian Flax at work in his "office", the kitchen at North Shore Synagogue

All photos: Aviva Lowy