Baked Halibut — The Fish That Made a Perfect Day Complete

July approaches and with it the question of how to spend a summer that is, for the first time in two years, open — open in the sense that the world is accessible, the grandchildren can visit, the farm stand doesn't require a mask, the neighbors are visible and touchable and present. The openness is both liberating and disorienting, like stepping out of a dark room into sunlight and needing a moment to adjust to the brightness.

I took Ethan and Sophie to the beach — Point Lookout, the same beach where Marvin and I sat in chairs last summer and watched the ocean in the silence of his disease. This time the beach was loud — children, waves, the specific cacophony of a Long Island beach in late June. Ethan built a sandcastle with the engineering ambition of a seven-year-old who has watched too many YouTube videos about architecture. Sophie collected shells with the curatorial seriousness of a museum director. I sat in a beach chair and watched them and felt the sun on my face and thought: this. This is what the vaccine was for. This is what the year of isolation was for. This moment, these children, this beach, this sun. I am here. They are here. The sand is warm. The water is cold. The day is perfect.

I made fish tacos for dinner — something I learned from a colleague at school, not remotely Ashkenazi, but delicious: grilled fish, cabbage slaw, lime crema, cilantro, wrapped in warm tortillas. Sylvia would not have recognized this as food. Sylvia would have said, "What is this?" and then eaten three and said nothing further, because Sylvia's criticism always yielded to her appetite, and her appetite yielded to nothing. The fish tacos were excellent. The evening was warm. The children were tired and sun-pink and fed. A good day. A genuinely, uncomplicated, simply good day. I am learning not to qualify them. A good day is a good day. Full stop.

That evening at Point Lookout — Ethan’s sandcastle, Sophie’s shells, the salt and sun on my face — called for a dinner that honored the lightness of the day without weighing it down. I wanted something clean and simple, something that let the joy of the afternoon carry forward rather than getting buried under a heavy meal. Baked halibut is exactly that: a few good ingredients, honest heat, and a fish that doesn’t need to be fussed over to be extraordinary. It is, in its own quiet way, a good meal. Full stop.

Baked Halibut

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 4 halibut fillets (about 6 oz each), skin removed
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 lemon, thinly sliced, plus extra wedges for serving
• 1 teaspoon dried thyme
• 1 teaspoon dried parsley
• 1/2 teaspoon paprika
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• 2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped, for garnish

Instructions

1. Preheat the oven. Heat your oven to 400°F. Lightly grease a baking dish large enough to hold all four fillets in a single layer.
2. Prepare the seasoning. In a small bowl, stir together the olive oil, minced garlic, dried thyme, dried parsley, paprika, salt, and black pepper until combined.
3. Season the fish. Pat the halibut fillets dry with paper towels and lay them in the prepared baking dish. Spoon the seasoned oil evenly over each fillet, spreading it gently to coat the tops.
4. Add the lemon. Arrange the lemon slices over and around the fillets. The slices will perfume the fish as it bakes and keep the edges from drying out.
5. Bake. Transfer the dish to the oven and bake for 18 to 20 minutes, until the fish is opaque throughout and flakes easily when pressed gently with a fork. Do not overbake — halibut is best when it is just cooked through.
6. Rest and serve. Remove from the oven and let the fillets rest for 2 minutes. Scatter fresh parsley over the top and serve immediately with extra lemon wedges alongside.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 230 | Protein: 36g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 3g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 360mg