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Baked Walleye —rsquo; The Plate of a Woman Who Has Decided to Be Here

January 2027. Cold — by Savannah standards, which means fifty degrees, which the rest of the country would call "sweater weather" and which Savannah calls "an emergency." The garden is sleeping. The collard greens are doing their winter work. The watermelon seeds are in the drawer. The world outside the kitchen is gray and still, and the world inside the kitchen is warm and loud because Michael is here and Michael is always loud.

He is fifteen months old. He has eight teeth. He has a vocabulary of approximately twelve words, of which "nah" remains the most frequently deployed. He also says "mama" (Kayla), "dada" (Devon), "na-na" (me — CONFIRMED, I am officially "na-na," and anyone who says it's "no-no" or "banana" is wrong and I will present evidence in court if necessary), "dog" (any animal), "hot" (anything on the stove), and "mo" (more, deployed at every meal with the urgency of a person ordering their last meal on earth).

He said "hot" this Saturday while pointing at the stove. Kayla looked at me. I looked at the stove. I said, "That's right, Michael. That's hot. The stove is hot. The stove is where the food happens and the food is hot and hot means you don't touch it until na-na says you can." He looked at me with those dark, serious, Michael-chin eyes and he said, "Mo." I gave him more sweet potato. The negotiation was swift and decisive. He won. He always wins.

The diabetes is stable. A1C at 6.6, down from 7.2 at diagnosis. Dr. Patterson is pleased. Kayla is pleased. I am pleased that they are pleased, and I am eating brown rice and turkey neck greens and grilled fish and the modified pound cake and the unsweetened tea, and I am doing it because Michael said "na-na" and the na-na needs to be alive for as long as the na-na can be alive, because the na-na has shrimp and grits to teach and a skillet to pass down and a watermelon to plant and a life to witness.

Made turkey neck greens tonight. The compromise greens. The greens that taste like compromise but also like survival and also like the Lowcountry and also, if I'm honest, like the food of a woman who has decided that being here is worth more than being stubborn about pork. The greens were good. The being here is better.

Now go on and feed somebody.

The turkey neck greens are the compromise — but the fish on the plate beside them is the promise. Since Dr. Patterson’s diagnosis, I’ve been building a new kind of plate: the kind that gets me to the next Saturday when Michael points at the stove and says “hot,” the next year when he learns a new word, the next decade when I hand him the skillet. Baked walleye is part of that plate — clean, simple, and honest, the way food should be when you’re cooking for your own survival. This is the version I make when I need something that does its job without fuss, because the fuss is already happening in the living room at fifteen months old and eight teeth.

Baked Walleye

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

Ingredients

  • 1 1/2 lbs walleye fillets, skin removed
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
  • 1 teaspoon paprika
  • 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1/4 teaspoon dried thyme
  • Lemon slices and fresh parsley, for serving

Instructions

  1. Preheat the oven. Heat oven to 400°F. Lightly grease a baking dish with a small amount of olive oil or line with foil.
  2. Prepare the fillets. Pat the walleye fillets dry with paper towels and arrange in a single layer in the prepared baking dish.
  3. Make the seasoning mixture. In a small bowl, whisk together the olive oil, minced garlic, lemon juice, paprika, onion powder, salt, pepper, and thyme until combined.
  4. Coat the fish. Spoon or brush the seasoning mixture evenly over the tops of the fillets, covering them well.
  5. Bake. Place the dish in the preheated oven and bake for 18–22 minutes, until the fish is opaque throughout and flakes easily with a fork. Thicker fillets may need the full 22 minutes.
  6. Rest and serve. Remove from the oven and let rest 2 minutes. Garnish with fresh parsley and lemon slices. Serve alongside greens, brown rice, or whatever’s keeping you here.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 215 | Protein: 28g | Fat: 10g | Carbs: 2g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 310mg

Dorothy Henderson
About the cook who shared this
Dorothy Henderson
Week 474 of Dorothy’s 30-year story · Savannah, Georgia
Dot Henderson is a seventy-one-year-old grandmother, a retired school lunch lady, and the undisputed queen of Lowcountry cooking in her corner of Savannah, Georgia. She spent thirty-five years feeding schoolchildren — sneaking extra portions to the ones who looked hungry — and now she feeds her seven grandchildren every Sunday without exception. She cooks with lard, seasons by feel, and ends every recipe the same way her mama did: "Now go on and feed somebody."

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