Baked Fish with Cheese Sauce -- What I Teach the Girls at Set the Table

Easter Sunday. Service at New Birth — the lilies, the choir, the white robes. Then the Cascade Heights house for dinner. Honey ham. Mac. Greens. Deviled eggs. Mama's pound cake recipe. Mama not there. The recipe was.

Andre called from LA. He told the Kevin Hart story again. Twenty-some years and that boy is still telling that story. Everyone in this family is going to hear about Kevin Hart at our funerals.

Darnell sent a photo from Clarksville. The garden is producing. He grew tomatoes the size of softballs. I sent him back a photo of my sweet potato casserole. We are competitive about food now in our middle age.

Pastor preached about the prodigal son again. He preaches about that boy at least three times a year. The text is the text but every preaching is different. I cried in the second service this time. Don't ask me why.

Daddy sat in his chair after dinner watching the news. He fell asleep before the third quarter. Standard.

Wednesday Bible study at the church. We read through Proverbs. The women in my row argued about whether wisdom is built or born. I said both. They agreed, sort of.

I had a hard counseling case at school this week. A seventh-grade girl whose mama lost her job. We talked. I gave her my number. I told her she could call.

I went to the cemetery Saturday morning. Brenda's grave is on the hill at South-View. Curtis still goes most Sundays. I left a small bouquet of magnolias.

Sunday service at New Birth this morning. The choir sang. I sang soprano in the second alto row. Pastor preached about Naomi and Ruth. The congregation said amen. I said amen.

The blood pressure check was Wednesday. The numbers were borderline. The doctor wants me to walk more. I am walking more.

Miss Ernestine called Tuesday. She's ninety-something and sharp as ever. She told me my potato salad still needs more mustard.

I made a casserole for the church potluck. The pan came back empty. That is the only review I trust.

The kids were home for the weekend. The house was loud the way it should be.

Tuesday evening I sat at the kitchen table with my composition notebook and worked on the cookbook. From Brenda's Kitchen — that's the working title. I cannot write the introduction without crying yet.

I drove to the Walmart on Camp Creek Saturday morning. The kind of grocery run that takes two hours because you run into three people you know. Sister Patrice caught me in the produce. We talked about her grandbaby for fifteen minutes.

Thursday I made cornbread for a sister at church whose husband had surgery. I dropped it off at the hospital. She cried at the door. I told her, eat the cornbread, baby. The food is the saying.

Derek and I had date night Friday. Same restaurant, same booth, same enchiladas for me and carne asada for him.

Saturday morning I had Set the Table at the Cascade Heights center. Twelve young women. We did baked chicken. One of them — Imani, sixteen — was so afraid of seasoning that she barely shook the salt. I stood next to her and put my hand over hers and said, baby, you cannot be afraid of food. We seasoned the chicken. The chicken came out right. She glowed.

I read for an hour Sunday night before bed. Some novel about a Black woman in 1960s Alabama. Mama would have liked it.

The neighbors had a Friday cookout this week. I brought my mac and cheese. They have come to expect this. I have come to expect this. The block is the block.

The Saturday at Set the Table stayed with me all week — watching Imani’s hand shake over the salt shaker and knowing that fear of the kitchen is really just fear of getting it wrong, of being too much, of ruining something. That’s why I keep coming back to this baked fish with cheese sauce. It’s forgiving, it’s warm, and it feels like something you’d find on a Sunday table in somebody’s grandmother’s house. When the doctor said walk more and watch the numbers, I started reaching for dishes that feel indulgent but sit a little lighter — and this one does both. Mama would have approved, and that’s the review I trust most.

Baked Fish with Cheese Sauce

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

Ingredients

• 4 white fish fillets (cod, tilapia, or flounder), about 6 oz each
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1/4 teaspoon paprika
• 1 tablespoon olive oil or melted butter
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
• 1 cup whole milk
• 1 cup shredded sharp cheddar cheese
• 1/4 teaspoon dry mustard
• 1/4 teaspoon onion powder
• Salt and pepper to taste
• Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

1. Preheat oven. Heat your oven to 375°F. Lightly grease a 9x13-inch baking dish.
2. Season the fish. Pat fillets dry with paper towels. Brush both sides with olive oil or melted butter. Sprinkle evenly with salt, pepper, garlic powder, and paprika. Arrange in the prepared baking dish in a single layer.
3. Bake the fish. Place the dish in the oven and bake for 18–22 minutes, until the fish flakes easily with a fork and is opaque throughout. Thicker fillets may need a couple of extra minutes.
4. Make the cheese sauce. While the fish bakes, melt butter in a small saucepan over medium heat. Whisk in flour and cook for 1 minute, stirring constantly, until the mixture smells slightly nutty. Slowly whisk in the milk, a little at a time, until smooth. Continue stirring over medium heat for 3–4 minutes until the sauce thickens.
5. Add the cheese. Remove the saucepan from heat. Stir in shredded cheddar, dry mustard, and onion powder until the cheese is fully melted and the sauce is smooth. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
6. Serve. Spoon the warm cheese sauce generously over the baked fish. Garnish with chopped parsley if desired. Serve immediately alongside rice, steamed vegetables, or a simple green salad.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 340 | Protein: 38g | Fat: 17g | Carbs: 8g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 480mg