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Grilled Spiced Fish -- The Meal That Meant He Was Okay

There is something I've been observing about Caleb that I'm trying to hold carefully, which is that isolation is not good for him and that isolation during a pandemic is unavoidable. He's been sober for a while now—years—and I know enough to know that the sobriety isn't a problem solved, it's a problem managed, and the things that make management harder include exactly what's happening right now. Boredom. Inactivity. The loss of routine structure. Too much time alone with your own thoughts.

I've been calling him every morning. Just for five minutes, sometimes less. He knows it's a check-in and I know it's a check-in and neither of us says that's what it is. We talk about the garden, about whatever I'm planning to cook that day, about a news story, about whether the Cardinals are ever going to play any actual baseball this year. The content doesn't matter much. What matters is that it happens.

He came over for dinner on a Saturday evening when we agreed the outdoor-only protocol was manageable—we ate on the back porch with enough distance and enough open sky that it felt reasonable. I made catfish, pan-fried in cornmeal the way he likes, with a pot of slow-cooked greens from the garden. He ate well and talked a lot and drove home in the kind of mood that's actually good rather than performed good. I felt the relief in my shoulders after he left.

Kai asked me why Uncle Caleb lives alone. I said he just does right now. Kai thought about this and said maybe Uncle Caleb should get a dog. I told Hannah later and she laughed and said she thought Kai might be right.

The catfish I made that Saturday on the back porch — crisp cornmeal crust, simple and honest — was the kind of meal that doesn’t ask anything of you except that you show up and eat it. This Grilled Spiced Fish recipe is the one I keep coming back to when I need a dish that feels like steadiness: a warm spice rub, a hot pan, and something real to put on the table for someone you’re quietly watching over.

Grilled Spiced Fish

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 22 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 4 fish fillets (catfish, tilapia, or similar), about 6 oz each
  • 1/2 cup fine yellow cornmeal
  • 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
  • 1 teaspoon garlic powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
  • 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
  • 1 teaspoon kosher salt
  • 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil or neutral cooking oil
  • Lemon wedges, for serving
  • Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

  1. Mix the coating. In a shallow bowl or plate, combine the cornmeal, smoked paprika, garlic powder, onion powder, cumin, cayenne, salt, and black pepper. Stir until evenly blended.
  2. Coat the fish. Pat each fillet dry with a paper towel. Press both sides of each fillet into the cornmeal spice mixture, shaking off any excess. The coating should be light and even.
  3. Heat the pan. Warm the oil in a large cast-iron skillet or heavy-bottomed pan over medium-high heat until shimmering but not smoking, about 2 minutes.
  4. Cook the fish. Add the fillets in a single layer without crowding. Cook undisturbed for 4–5 minutes until the bottom is golden and the crust releases cleanly from the pan. Flip carefully and cook another 4–5 minutes until the fish is cooked through and flakes easily with a fork.
  5. Rest and serve. Transfer to a plate lined with paper towels for one minute. Serve with lemon wedges and a scatter of fresh parsley if you have it.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 290 | Protein: 34g | Fat: 10g | Carbs: 14g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 520mg

Jesse Whitehawk
About the cook who shared this
Jesse Whitehawk
Week 157 of Jesse’s 30-year story · Tulsa, Oklahoma
Jesse is a thirty-nine-year-old welder, a Cherokee Nation citizen, and a married dad of three in Tulsa who cooks over open fire because that's how his grandpa Charlie did it and his grandpa's grandpa did it before him. His food draws from Cherokee tradition, Mexican heritage from his mother's side, and Oklahoma BBQ culture. He forages wild onions every spring and makes grape dumplings in the fall, and he considers both acts of cultural survival.

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