What to Eat After Vacation: Ginger Soy Tilapia
As a fan of treehouses and too-good-to-be-true family dynamics, of course I grew up reading the Berenstain Bears and loving the kind of conflict that can be wrapped up in 25 picture-filled pages. A particular favorite is The Berenstain Bears Learn About Strangers where Mama Bear teaches Sister Bear that you can't judge a book by its cover using a barrel of apples. Classic. But I have a bone to pick with one particular title: there is simply no such thing as Too Much Vacation. Sorry, no way, there just isn't.
I cried when we were boarding our return flight (I really loved California, okay?), and I have seen few things as disheartening as the "Welcome to New York!" sign hanging over the sketchy baggage claim area at JFK. I could have stood for many more glasses of wine on stone patios, and I wouldn't have turned up my nose at floating in a motel pool for another afternoon. I would have happily driven through more state parks, eaten roadside strawberries, and let the GPS tell me where to go for all the rest of my days.
The end of a vacation can be more than a little cruel. As a friend of mine said, vacations have a way of "opening up this vortex of disappointment in your life." When compared to days stretched out with no obligations, there's a lot in normal life that looks downright shitty: You have to make your own bed. Dishes are your problem. You need to bring in the mail, take out the garbage, and pick up the dry cleaning. And the worst part is, you have to pay for all of it! In other words, your sole purpose is no longer the pursuit of fun and biding time until it is socially acceptable to have another drink.
But the good thing, if forced to come up with one, about the end of a vacation and the return to adult life is finding yourself back at the cutting board. I think I may extract a disproportionate amount of satisfaction from holding a heavy knife and bashing up some garlic. And so I could appreciate getting back to the process of each meal, to know where my food was coming from and exactly what sort of transformation it would go through before reaching my plate. In a restaurant, the screen between table and kitchen securely drawn, it's easy to forget (in fact, we are supposed to) all the preparations of a meal. But as much as I enjoy the ceremony of sitting in a well-lit room and having plate after plate silently set before me, it's not where my heart really is. I like being in the kitchen. I like knowing the beginning, middle, and end of each dinner story.
Because while there simply cannot be too much too much freedom, too much sleeping in, or too many open days filled with nothing but adventure, there can certainly be too much restaurant food. And in that sense, it felt good to come home to my own kitchen.
Ginger Soy Tilapia
Serves 2
I served the fish, flaked, with soba and steamed bok choy. Some fluffy white rice would also be a great stand in for the noodles.
2 tilapia fillets
2 tablespoons canola oil
1 tablespoon peeled and minced ginger
1 garlic clove, minced
1/2 cup mirin
2 tablespoons soy sauce
Heat 1 tablespoon oil in a large skillet over high heat. Add fillets and cook until golden on each side, about 4-5 minutes total. Remove fish from pan, reduce heat to medium, and add remaining tablespoon of oil, along with garlic and ginger, and cook for about a minute. Add 1/2 cup mirin and let it bubble and reduce a touch. Stir in soy sauce, let the flavors mingle, and then spoon sauce over fish.
