Summer. The first full summer in the Cascade Heights house. The neighborhood has absorbed us completely now — we are the family in the house three streets from Brenda and Curtis Jackson's place, the family with four kids and the grandmother's fried chicken and the woman who runs the cooking program at the church. Mrs. Henderson brings me tomatoes from her garden. Mr. Williams across the street waves every morning. The mailman knows our names. We are Cascade Heights. We are home.
The kids scatter into summer: Marcus at debate camp (Emory again, his third year — he's a teaching assistant now, which means he instructs younger debaters and comes home with a God complex and opinions about everyone's argumentation). Jasmine at music camp — a new one, at Spelman, a week-long intensive for young performers. SPELMAN. My alma mater. My daughter walking the same campus I walked twenty years ago. The symmetry is not lost on me. The symmetry IS me.
Isaiah is at basketball camp. Zoe is at art camp. The house is quiet from 8 to 4 and the quiet is... nice. The quiet is new. For the first time in a year, I have the kitchen to myself during the day. I cook slowly. I experiment. I try recipes for the cookbook — testing, annotating, adjusting. The composition notebook is becoming a manuscript. The manuscript is becoming real. Katherine from Athens emails weekly: "How's the book?" I email back: "Growing." Like everything in my life. Growing.
The day I made this, Mrs. Henderson had just left a paper bag of tomatoes on my porch — more than I could use in a salad, riper than I wanted to just slice and salt. I had a halibut fillet in the refrigerator and two quiet hours before anyone came home, and something in me said: this is a cookbook moment. This is exactly the kind of recipe I’d been looking for — something that feels effortless but tastes considered, something that says summer without shouting it. I annotated the whole thing in my composition notebook while it simmered, and when I took the first bite, I wrote one word in the margin: yes.
Tomato-Poached Halibut
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 4 halibut fillets (about 6 oz each), skin removed
- 2 cups fresh tomatoes, roughly chopped (about 3 medium)
- 1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, with juices
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 small yellow onion, finely diced
- 1/2 cup dry white wine
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves (or 1/2 teaspoon dried)
- 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
- 1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/4 cup fresh basil leaves, torn, for garnish
- Crusty bread or cooked rice, for serving
Instructions
- Build the base. Heat olive oil in a large, deep skillet or wide saucepan over medium heat. Add the onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and translucent, about 4 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more, until fragrant.
- Make the tomato broth. Add the fresh tomatoes, canned tomatoes with their juices, white wine, thyme, and red pepper flakes. Stir to combine. Season with salt and pepper. Bring to a gentle simmer and cook uncovered for 8–10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the sauce has thickened slightly and the fresh tomatoes have broken down.
- Poach the fish. Season the halibut fillets lightly on both sides with salt and pepper. Nestle the fillets into the tomato broth, spooning a little sauce over the top of each. Cover the pan and cook over medium-low heat for 8–10 minutes, until the fish is opaque throughout and flakes easily when tested with a fork. Do not overcook.
- Finish and serve. Taste the broth and adjust seasoning as needed. Use a wide spatula to carefully transfer each fillet to a shallow bowl or plate. Ladle the tomato broth generously around and over the fish. Scatter fresh basil on top. Serve immediately with crusty bread to soak up the broth, or over cooked rice.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 290 | Protein: 38g | Fat: 10g | Carbs: 11g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 430mg