No one cares what you had for dinner
Life • August 1st, 2007A few months ago Petie, Chris and I were talking about poor blog writing, and I was telling them about Maggie Mason’s book “No one cares what you had for lunch”
First of all: I don’t cook dinner every night. Second: Among all fish, I don’t particularly dig salmon. Third: every time I cook, no matter what I make, it takes a ridiculously long time and in the end I’m left with a lot of stuff to clean. So if I’ve cooked, I pass the cleaning to Joey (he must pay for the agravio of me having to cook).
Granted: I cheated. I made the green rice last weekend. But that’s what most smart cooking people do: Cook big batches of staple food for the whole week. The one I want to tell you about — if you care to hear — is the salmon, only because I swear I’ve never had better salmon in my life, and the fact that it was me who made it is so overwhelming, I have to share the recipe… At least for Petie, who always sends me yummy recipes, none of which I’ve ever tried (sorry, I love them and keep them; I’m just lazy).
Broiled Salmon
For two servings, mix:
- Juice of half a lemon
- Olive oil (about the same amount as lemon juice)
- Mustard (be generous, make the thing thick)
- Chopped dill (be generous, make the thing green)
- 2 cloves of garlic
- Salt and pepper
- Pavarotti fish seasoning (Joey buys “Seafood Magic” from chef Paul Prudhomme. The guy looks like Pavarotti, so that’s what I call it)
Cover a broil pan with foil, grease it, and lay the salmon fillets on it. Coat the salmon with the marinade, and if the baby kicking inside your womb allows, let it rest for a little while. Broil for 5 minutes. Take it out (be careful with the flames!) coat the top of the fillets with the rest of the marinade. Broil for another two minutes. Done!
A word of caution: The total time of 7 minutes is good for fillets about half an inch thick. The first time I made this dish, we had a fillet almost an inch thick, and that one took a total of 10 minutes to cook. So try to get fillets of even thickness. The redder, the yummier.
