Halibut with Antipasta | Cooking with Bells On

Halibut with Antipasta (My Kind of Hassle-Free Meal)

I know we’re still half a month shy of the solstice, but I’m going to go ahead and call it summer. It sure feels like summer here in New York, at least. We’ve had a handful of 80-plus degree days which, despite my Southern upbringing, have taken me by uncomfortable surprise. I ought to be a pro when it comes to dealing with the heat, but damn if it isn’t hard to make me swap my long-sleeves for tank tops. (What can I say, I like to be cozy.) The one thing that I do embrace fully about summer is the unending sunshine. There’s something incredibly freeing about realizing that, yeah, I still have some of the day left at the end of the day! The gift of summer provides hours of sunlit recreation to use to your discretion.

You had better believe me when I say I plan to use those hours. Just this last weekend I rediscovered dusk. Remember dusk? That magical hour when the sun takes its time setting and casts everyone in a shimmering vital glow? Well, I found it in Riverside Park this Memorial Day, and with it found that quintessential summertime feeling in me of never wanting this day to end. This summer I’ll cherish dusk every day from now until October.

I’ll also be using the lengthened afternoon hours to kick my running up a notch. After having too many disappointing runs in a row (and subsequently finding myself so fed up I skipped over a week of sneaker-time), I decided I needed a boost to get my fitness level where I want it to be. Enter New York Road Runners training classes. Twice a week now I’m spending my evenings with the NYRR coaches up in Central Park, working on pacing, hill work, and interval training.

The tricky part of all this sunset-appreciation is figuring out how to fit in time to prepare dinner once the evening fun has come and gone. Delivery is an option, of course, but as I mentioned previously, it’s an option we’re trying to avoid. Leftovers are fair game, so some nights I deliberately cook more than is needed, leaving another couple servings for the following day. The best choice of all is a quick, delicious meal that feels thoughtfully prepared but has only taken a bare minimum of effort on my part to get it on the table.

This recipe is the ace up my sleeve for a meal that fits the bill for that kind of fast but real dinner. Its clever shortcut – utilizing a good antipasta bar – and sealed-up preparation make it applicable to all sorts of cooks: those with an aversion to chopping, or who are making dinner for one, or who want to prep the dish early in the day. Endlessly flexible, this dish works with all sorts of flaky fish – from halibut to sea bass to salmon – and is a great way to use up little bits of vegetables or herbs lurking in the refrigerator. Oh, and in case I had you believing that the simplicity of this dish implies any sort of unspecialness, I present you with this video. Despite its simplicity, there’s a sort of grandeur to the presentation here that makes the dish actually very special. I recommend serving the fish in its packet and unwrapping it at the table so that you can enjoy the steam and its beautiful aroma as it escapes from the bag. Personally, I think evenings when you are frazzled and hurried are when you need a special dinner most of all.

Halibut with Antipasta en Papillote

Serves 1 or more

“En papillote” is a French technique for steaming fish in a parchment bag in the oven. You can prep this fish up to sealing the bag in advance and store it (wrapped in plastic) in the coldest part of your refrigerator before serving.

Ingredients (per person):

4-6 oz halibut

salt and red chile flake

1/4 cup mixed antipasta (marinated artichokes, roasted red peppers, olives, marinated gigante beans, etc)

2 thin lemon slices

parsley or cilantro leaves, for garnish

Preheat the oven to 400°F

Prepare your fish in its “bag”: Tear off a sheet of parchment paper at least 16″ long and fold it in half so that the short edges meet. (You can substitute tin foil for the parchment.) Place the fish near the fold on one half and season it with salt and pepper. Arrange the antipasta around the fish, halving large pieces if desired. Place lemon slices over the fish. Fold the parchment paper over the fish and crimp the two halves of paper together with a series of folds, beginning on one side and layering the folds around to the other. Tuck the last fold under the weight of the fish to keep the bag closed.

Bake: Place the fish in the center of the oven and bake for 15 minutes. Remove the fish and peek inside the parchment (careful of hot steam) to check for doneness. The fish should be opaque all the way through and still moist. Serve.

Advertisements
Miso Salmon | Cooking With Bells On

Weeknight Dinner: Miso Salmon + Learning to Cook for One

Written in fine print beneath the title of a recipe: Serves 4 to 6.

Oh, this recipe makes enough for four people, and I’m only cooking for myself tonight… I guess I’ll keep looking.

Sound familiar?

This was the scenario I found myself in night after night when I first began cooking. At the time, I had decided that I wanted to get in the habit of daily preparing meals for myself. I knew already that I enjoyed cooking, and I wanted to develop a practice around this hobby that would allow me to focus my time and energy exclusively on self-care – something I really needed, in those days.

I wanted to be able to plan my meals around recipes that appealed to me in cookbooks and magazines, but I was constantly hindered by this obstacle that lurked on every page: Serves 4 to 6. I couldn’t understand why, no matter where I looked, I could not find recipes that would show me how to prepare a meal to serve one diner. I mean, having friends over to share a meal is great, but nobody does that every night – why were recipes not acknowledging that many of us have to cook for only one or two the rest of the time?

Eventually I gave up on recipes altogether, realizing that I was never going to find exactly what I was looking for in the pages of any book or magazine. I began to regard printed recipes as sources of inspiration that could teach me new techniques or ingredient pairings. Once I made this shift, the number of options for meals I could prepare, whether for just myself or a full table of guest, expanded infinitely.

This Miso Salmon was one of the first ‘Serves 1’ meals I perfected. I believe my original inspiration came from David Chang’s Momofuku cookbook, wherein he describes liberal use of a miso butter concoction across myriad dishes in the Momofuku kitchens. I like to smear a thick coat of the salty umami-rich miso butter over a piece of fatty fish before roasting the fish in a hot oven. As the fish cooks, the fat from the salmon oozes up and mingles with the creamy miso butter as the miso butter itself begins to melt and char. It’s such a crazy simple dish – only three ingredients – and yet it works so well, making for a beautiful meal that could easily serve a single diner or a crowd.

Tweet: I can't wait to make Miso Salmon from #cookingwithbellson! via @kemayellTweet: I can’t wait to make Miso Salmon from #cookingwithbellson! via @kemayell

Miso Salmon

Serves 1 or more

This recipe makes much more miso butter than you will need to use just for the salmon here, and that’s a good thing. Keep it on hand in the refrigerator for up to a year. I like to melt a bit of miso butter over pan-roasted brussel sprouts or mix some into scrambled eggs. 

Ingredients:

6 tbsp (84g) butter, at room temperature

6 tbsp (90g) white miso

1 4-6 oz. salmon filet (per person)

Preheat oven to 400°F.

Make the miso butter: Mix together the butter and miso in a small bowl until well combined. Transfer to a storage container.

Roast the salmon: Spread a heaping spoonful of miso butter over the salmon filet and spread until you have an even 1/4″ layer. Roast on highest rack in oven for 6 minutes, then switch on the broiler and broil for another 1-2 minutes until the miso butter is golden brown.