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Easy Haddock Bake — The Fish That Holds You When the Soup Runs Out

March. Three years since the floor. The anniversary I mark privately, without fanfare, without a blog post, without telling anyone except Dr. Reeves, who notes it in our session with the clinical precision of a woman tracking long-term outcomes. "Three years," she says. "How are you?" I say: "Standing." She nods. We both know what "standing" means. We both know the floor is still there, under the standing, the way the ocean floor is under the boat. You don't see it. But it's there.

Three years of therapy. Three years of sertraline. Three years of cooking. The combination is the treatment, and the treatment works, the way a three-drug regimen works for HIV — each component doing something the others can't, the combination greater than the sum. Take away the therapy and the medication does less. Take away the medication and the therapy strains. Take away the cooking and — I don't want to know. The cooking is the third drug. The essential one. The one I'll never stop.

I made Reynaldo's salmon sinigang to mark the anniversary. Not because it's February (it's March now, barely). Because the sinigang is the recipe that connects me to the floor and to the standing and to everything between — the man who invented it, the daughter who makes it, the broth that is sour the way grief is sour, the way tamarind is sour, the way life tastes when you've been on the floor and gotten up and learned to add one more squeeze.

Jason ate the sinigang with me. He didn't know it was the anniversary. I didn't tell him. Some markers are private. Some dates are between me and the linoleum. He ate the soup and said, "Extra tamarind tonight?" I said, "Extra tamarind." He nodded. He knows what extra tamarind means — he doesn't know all the reasons, but he knows the language, and in our kitchen, extra tamarind is a sentence that means: something is happening below the surface and the soup is addressing it and the addressing is the coping and the coping is the living.

Three years. The floor. The standing. The cooking. The writing. The man. The mother. The sister. The blog. The medication. The therapy. The garlic. The vinegar. The one more squeeze. All of it. Three years of all of it. I'm still here. The sinigang is still here. We keep each other alive.

The sinigang is Reynaldo’s — it belongs to the anniversary, to the floor, to the private ceremony of extra tamarind and what it means. But on the ordinary Tuesdays between the marked days, I still need fish. I still need the ritual of standing over something that requires my attention and nothing more. This easy haddock bake is what I make when I need the comfort of the water without the weight of the memory — a simpler fish, a gentler broth, the same act of feeding myself forward into whatever comes next.

Easy Haddock Bake

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 4 haddock fillets (about 6 oz each)
  • 3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 lemon, thinly sliced
  • 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
  • 1/2 cup plain breadcrumbs
  • 2 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped
  • 1 teaspoon paprika
  • 1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
  • Salt and black pepper to taste
  • 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

Instructions

  1. Preheat. Heat your oven to 400°F (200°C). Lightly grease a 9x13-inch baking dish with 1 tablespoon of the olive oil.
  2. Prepare the topping. In a small bowl, combine the breadcrumbs, parsley, paprika, thyme, and remaining 2 tablespoons olive oil. Stir until the crumbs are evenly coated. Season with a pinch of salt and pepper.
  3. Season the fish. Pat the haddock fillets dry with paper towels and lay them in a single layer in the prepared baking dish. Drizzle with lemon juice and scatter the minced garlic evenly over the top. Season generously with salt and black pepper.
  4. Add toppings. Press the breadcrumb mixture evenly over each fillet. Lay lemon slices around and between the fish. Dot the tops with the small pieces of butter.
  5. Bake. Bake uncovered for 20–25 minutes, until the topping is golden and the fish flakes easily with a fork at its thickest point. The internal temperature should reach 145°F.
  6. Rest and serve. Remove from the oven and let rest 2 minutes before serving. Spoon any pan juices over the top and garnish with additional fresh parsley if desired. Serve immediately with rice, roasted vegetables, or crusty bread.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 285 | Protein: 36g | Fat: 12g | Carbs: 9g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 340mg

Grace Santos
About the cook who shared this
Grace Santos
Week 153 of Grace’s 30-year story · Anchorage, Alaska
Grace is a thirty-seven-year-old ER nurse in Anchorage, Alaska — Filipino-American, single, and the person her entire community calls when they need a hundred lumpia for a party or a shoulder to cry on after a hard shift. She cooks to cope with the things she sees in the emergency room, feeding her neighbors and her church and anyone who looks like they need a plate. Her adobo could bring peace to a warring nation. Her schedule could kill a lesser person.

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