The most amazing thing happened to me the other day.
It was an 80 degree spring day in DC. I set off for a post-work jog with my friend Travis, using our steady, "conversational" pace to sound off on my latest irritation in a seemingly endless string of white girl problems and karmic disasters. (It's not called a "conversational" pace for nothing. And I was taking advantage of a captive audience.) As we were rounding the Washington Monument and I was finishing the story, (and he was, more likely than not, telling me to quit whining), I found a folded twenty dollar bill on the ground. No, really. I stopped and said, "AND THEN I FOUND TWENTY DOLLARS!" (Which also happens to be my favorite punch line for a terrible story.) He couldn't believe it, and neither could I. With the volume of tourists on the National Mall that afternoon, finding money on the Mall was even more of a rarity. I giddily speculated that maybe my luck was finally turning around, and good karma had returned to my side once again.
Unexpectedly $20 richer, I decided to treat myself and see what kind of overpriced shenanigans were being pushed at my neighborhood Whole Foods. A fancy cheese and a bottle of wine? Nah - cheese needs crackers, and I am just as happy with a $10 bottle of wine as a $40 one. And I don't need a whole bottle to myself. A nice piece of steak? Eh, I want a grill for that. So I wandered over to the seafood counter and started chatting up the fishmonger. Now, as anybody who goes to the grocery store with me will tell you, I am really friendly with grocery store employees. Some will say unnecessarily so. For example, one time I was buying the mini bottles of Gallo cooking wine at Safeway - I don't generally drink white wine, so the mini bottles are convenient for cooking. I got to the checkout and the checkout girl started telling me about how much she loves the "personal bottles". Yes, apparently she drinks them. She wanted to know all about the party I was going to that night, and told me to be careful because people might be trying to slip a mini bottle into their purse. I didn't have the heart to tell her that I was using it to make fondue.
But, that instance aside, normally grocery store employees can be very knowledgeable and helpful, and it always pays to ask questions if you're buying something unfamiliar. If you're sincere, not only can you get discounted bananas, but they are eager to help you pick out a good cheese or a loaf of fresh bread. They can direct you to the right wine to make mulled wine (just buy the cheapest box, but not the "nasty stuff old people drink out of the jug"). Butchers just love helping young ladies find a proper cut of meat for whatever it is they are cooking, and they generally deliver a nice compliment along with your T-bone. Fishmongers see the seafood come in every morning, and they know what is the freshest, the tastiest, and the most in-demand. This fishmonger sold me on a nice piece of halibut. He just went on and on about the damn fish for a good five minutes. About how halibut season has just started up in Alaska, and this was the first shipment of the season. About how it came in that morning and how its eyes were just bulging out and looking him right in the mug. (TMI? Apparently that's the sign of a super-fresh fish.) About how his knife slid through it like butter when he was cutting it into filets. Now, I love halibut, but I never buy it because it is prohibitively expensive. $24 a pound is just ridiculous - who eats this stuff, anyway? Luckily, Whole Foods was running a special on halibut ($16/pound) to welcome the season, so I went ahead and splurged - I bought myself a whole pound, enough for three good-sized filets.
With my first filet, I made a quick dinner that I saw in April's Cooking Light. As I cannot have breaded fish, I had been on the lookout for an encrusted fish recipe that did not contain any gluten or sugar. This recipe, which originally called for hazelnuts, fit the bill. However, I used pistachios instead, as it was what I had on hand, and I am not wild about hazelnuts in the first place. But y'all.....this fish was so tasty. Halibut is slightly sweet, so the salty, nutty crust is a nice addition. However, this fish was such high quality, so delicious, it melted in your mouth and flaked into pieces with the mere touch of a fork. For my next filet, I am just going to poach it in some white wine or broth with a bit of lemon - it really doesn't need much. My fishmonger friend was right - it was really an incredible piece of fish.
So today you have two morals to my story. Moral #1: Always be nice to grocery store employees, especially the butchers and the fish mongers. They can sell you a great piece of meat or fish. Moral #2: Money may not grow on trees, but apparently it sprouts out from concrete. And Travis, I guess I owe you a beer after our race on Sunday...it's the least I can do.
Pistachio-encrusted halibut with roasted asparagus
Adapted from Cooking Light (April 2012)
Serves 1
for the fish
1 teaspoon butter
1 teaspoon extra-virgin olive oil
1 six-ounce halibut filet, skinned
2 tablespoons finely chopped pistachios
salt & pepper, to taste
for the asparagus
1 garlic
1 handful of asparagus spears, maybe 6
Cooking spray (olive oil preferred, I use a misto)
1 teaspoon chopped fresh thyme
2 thin slices lemon
1. Preheat oven to 400.
2. Brush tops of filets with olive oil and sprinkle both sides evenly with pinches of salt and freshly cracked pepper. Press the top of the filet onto a plate of chopped pistachios, pressing gently to adhere.
3. Heat butter in nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Place fish, nuts side down, in the skillet. (Alternatively, you could use olive oil or cooking spray, but I like the added richness from the butter. It's not that much, anyway.) Cook three minutes, or until browned. Turn fish over gently and cook four minutes, or until desired doneness.
4. Meanwhile, spray asparagus with cooking spray and toss with garlic, salt, pepper, and thyme. Lay two thin slices of lemon atop the asparagus. Roast on 400 for 8 minutes or until crisp-tender.
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