Cod with Raspberry Sauce

Bayamón. Day one: 86 degrees and sun and the wind from the ocean and the smell of frying things from kiosks and the language at full volume in every direction. Eduardo and I came out of the airport and stood for a minute on the sidewalk and just breathed. He said, "Carmen." I said, "I know."

Marisol picked us up. She drove us through Hato Tejas. The new house is two blocks from the old block house, which is a vacant lot now — they tore it down after María, my brother Julio bought the lot, he is going to build something on it eventually, no rush — and Marisol slowed the car at the lot and we sat for a moment. The lot has weeds. The lot has a chain-link fence. The lot was where I learned to walk and where I learned to read and where I had every meal of my first eighteen years. The lot is just dirt now. I cried. Eduardo held my hand.

The week was short and slow. Marisol made me sit. Marisol cooked. Marisol drove. We went to the beach Wednesday — Luquillo — and I sat under an umbrella and watched the water and ate bacalaítos from a kiosk. Eduardo swam. He had not swum since Florida 2018. He came out of the water laughing like a child. He said, "Carmen, the water is right." I said, "Eduardo, the water is always right here."

Thursday we drove to Ponce — Eduardo wanted to show me where his cousin had lived, the cousin who pulled us north in 1988 and started this whole story. The cousin's house was still there. We knocked. The cousin had died in 2016 but his daughter still lived there. She let us in. Eduardo cried in her kitchen. The kitchen smelled the way kitchens in Ponce smell, which is like home and not like Hartford.

Friday I called Sofía. She said, "Ma, Mami had a hard morning. Confused. Did not know me for an hour. Then she came back. She is okay. Stay." I said, "Mija, are you sure?" She said, "Ma, I am sure. Eat dinner. Kiss your husband." I ate dinner. I kissed my husband.

Saturday Marisol and I went to the cemetery. We brought flowers for Abuela Consuelo and for my father. We sat at the graves for an hour. Marisol said the rosary. I do not pray often but I prayed Saturday. I said to Abuela Consuelo, in my head: I am teaching the food. I am teaching it under your name. The class starts in three weeks. I will not let it die. I said to my father, in my head: Mami is going. Be ready.

Sunday we flew home. The plane landed in Hartford at 9 PM. It was 24 degrees. Eduardo said, "Carmen, welcome home." I said, "Eduardo, the home is two homes. Always." He said, "Yes. Always." Wepa.

The bacalaítos I ate at Luquillo on Wednesday — standing barefoot at the kiosk, Eduardo still laughing and dripping from the water — stayed with me all the way back to Hartford. Salt cod is not something I make often up here, but that afternoon reminded me that fish cooked simply, with something bright and unexpected alongside it, is its own kind of restoration. This cod with raspberry sauce is not a bacalaíto, but the day I made it back home I put on Marisol’s playlist and opened the window despite the cold, and for twenty minutes my kitchen smelled like somewhere it had never been before.

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

Ingredients

4 cod fillets (about 6 oz each), patted dry
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 1/2 cups fresh or frozen raspberries
3 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
1 tablespoon water
1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish

Instructions

Make the raspberry sauce. Combine raspberries, sugar, red wine vinegar, and water in a small saucepan over medium heat. Stir and cook for 8–10 minutes, until the berries break down and the sauce thickens slightly. Add red pepper flakes if using. Remove from heat and set aside; strain through a fine mesh sieve if you prefer a smoother sauce.
Season the cod. Season both sides of each fillet evenly with salt and black pepper.
Sear the fish. Heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat until shimmering. Add the cod fillets and cook undisturbed for 4–5 minutes until a golden crust forms on the bottom. Flip carefully and add the butter to the pan. Cook another 3–4 minutes, basting the fillets with the melted butter, until the fish is opaque and flakes easily with a fork.
Plate and serve. Spoon a generous amount of raspberry sauce onto each plate. Set a cod fillet on top of the sauce. Garnish with fresh parsley and serve immediately, with rice or roasted vegetables alongside if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

Cod with Raspberry Sauce — The Fish That Tastes Like Coming Home