Fish Chips With Dipping Sauce

Week 555. Year 11. Tommy is 44. Fall. Hunting season approaching. The gumbo cravings starting. LSU football on the TV with Rémy on the couch arguing plays. Colette (18) in college/nursing school. The season turning, the roux darkening, the days getting shorter in a way that makes the kitchen brighter by contrast.

Made smothered pork chops this week — the kind of food that fills the house with the smell of Louisiana and the knowledge that whoever walks through the door is walking into a home where the stove is on and the food is ready and the welcome is unconditional. The meal was the day. The day was the meal. Both were good. The chain holds.

The small union-electrician role at the small IBEW Local 995 in Baton Rouge continues to be the small career-spine. The small thirty-year-Local-995-membership has built the small senior-electrician-status. The small commercial-construction-projects are the small steady-work in the small Baton-Rouge-Industrial-Corridor.

The three kids are: Luc (born 2006, the small oldest), Colette (born 2008, the small middle-daughter), Rémy (born 2011, the small youngest). The small Danielle (the small wife, from Lafayette) is the small partner Tommy has built the small Baton-Rouge-life with. The small two-income family-of-five has been the small Baton Rouge middle-class household.

The small Hurricane Katrina (August 2005) destroyed the small Chalmette, Louisiana home where Tommy had grown up. The small twenty-year-anniversary of the small loss is the small ongoing-marker. The small move to Baton Rouge in October 2005 had been the small refugee-from-the-storm displacement. The small Baton Rouge has been the small home for the small twenty years now.

The small Cajun-cooking-tradition is the small kitchen-identity. The small jambalaya, the small gumbo, the small etouffee, the small red-beans-and-rice (on Mondays, the small traditional-Cajun Monday-staple). The small recipes from Maw-Maw Beaumont (Tommy’s grandmother who had been in Chalmette before Katrina, passed in 2014) continue to be the small kitchen-spine.

The small St. Aloysius Catholic Parish congregation is the small Sunday-worship and social-network. The small twenty-year-membership has been the small post-Katrina-rebuild of the small community. The small parish-cookouts, the small parish-bingo, the small parish-school-fundraisers are the small Beaumont-family-engagement.

The small Louisiana-summer-heat-and-humidity is the small weather-reality. The small grilling-and-outdoor-cooking happens in the small early-morning or the small late-evening when the small temperature is bearable. The small Louisiana-spring-and-fall are the small narrow-windows of pleasant cooking-weather.

The small Sunday-publishing-rhythm of the recipe blog continues to be the small organizing-spine of the small week. The small Sunday-cooking happens in the small late-morning-to-early-afternoon window. The small photographing of the finished dish happens at the small three-PM kitchen-light-window. The small writing-up of the recipe happens at the small four-PM workspace at the kitchen-counter. The small final-edit happens at the small five-PM. The small post publishes at seven PM. The small ritual has been running for years.

The small recipe-development-philosophy continues to be the small small-batch-test-then-publish approach. The small first cook of a small new recipe happens on the small Saturday afternoon. The small adjustments are noted in the small kitchen-notebook. The small second cook happens Sunday with the small adjustments incorporated. The small Sunday-cook is the small version that gets photographed and published. The small two-test process catches the small recipe-flaws before they reach the small reader.

The small kitchen-equipment-inventory has the small key-pieces that show up in nearly every recipe. The small heavy-bottomed Dutch oven for the small braises. The small twelve-inch cast-iron skillet for the small sears and the small pan-roasts. The small half-sheet baking-pans for the small roasted vegetables and the small cookies. The small wooden-spoon-collection in the small ceramic-pitcher on the counter. The small chef’s-knife and the small paring-knife and the small bread-knife that are the small daily-tools.

The small grocery-shopping rhythm runs through the small Tuesday-evening trip and the small Saturday-morning top-off. The small Tuesday-trip is the small weekly-stock-up for the small staples and the small produce and the small protein. The small Saturday-trip is the small quick-fill for whatever the small Sunday-recipe requires that is not already in the small pantry. The small two-trip-per-week pattern keeps the small grocery-bill manageable and the small food-waste low.

The small meal-planning happens on the small Sunday-evening for the small week-ahead. The small dinners are mapped out across the small Monday-through-Saturday. The small repeating-meals are slotted in (the small pasta-Monday, the small taco-Tuesday or similar pattern). The small new-recipes are slotted for the small Wednesday-or-Thursday for the small variety. The small planning ahead reduces the small daily what-are-we-making-for-dinner stress.

The small weekday-cooking is the small efficient-and-fast mode. The small Sunday-cooking is the small slow-and-careful mode. The small two-modes serve the small two-different-needs. The small weekday-cooking has to be on the small table within forty-five minutes of getting home from the small work-or-school-pickup. The small Sunday-cooking can take three hours and benefit from every minute of that time.

The small recipe-archive on the small blog has grown to many hundreds of recipes over the years. The small archive is the small searchable-resource for the small weekday-meal-planning. The small reader-feedback in the small comments-section helps refine the small recipes over time. The small note-from-a-reader who tried a small substitution that worked better than the small original gets incorporated into the small recipe-revision.

The small Sunday-cooking-and-writing rhythm is the small thing that has held across years of life-changes and family-events and small ordinary-weekday-disruptions. The small constant is the small Sunday. The small constant is the small recipe. The small constant is the small posting-at-seven-PM ritual. The small constant is the small reader on the other end of the small post who is going to read the small recipe and try the small recipe in the small reader’s own kitchen.

The smothered pork chops filled the house this week, but the Louisiana fall has a way of making you want one more thing at the table — something crisp and quick to round out the meal when Rémy wanders in from the couch and Danielle gets home from work and suddenly everyone is hungry at once. Fish fries are as much a part of this kitchen as the roux and the red beans, and this week’s Fish Chips With Dipping Sauce is the version that earns its place alongside the big braises: fast enough for a weekday, good enough to stand on its own, and built for exactly the kind of unconditional welcome the story above is about.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs white fish fillets (catfish, cod, or tilapia), cut into 3/4-inch strips
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon onion powder
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
2 large eggs, beaten
1 1/2 cups panko breadcrumbs
Neutral oil for frying (vegetable or canola), about 2 cups
For the dipping sauce:
1/2 cup mayonnaise
2 tablespoons ketchup
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon hot sauce (Crystal or Tabasco)
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
Salt and black pepper to taste

Instructions

Make the dipping sauce. Whisk together mayonnaise, ketchup, lemon juice, hot sauce, and garlic powder in a small bowl. Season with salt and pepper. Cover and refrigerate until ready to serve — it improves as it sits.
Set up the breading station. In a shallow bowl, whisk together flour, garlic powder, smoked paprika, onion powder, cayenne, salt, and pepper. In a second shallow bowl, beat the eggs. In a third shallow bowl, spread the panko breadcrumbs.
Bread the fish. Pat fish strips dry with paper towels. Working one piece at a time, dredge in the seasoned flour and shake off the excess, dip in the beaten egg, then press firmly into the panko to coat all sides. Set breaded pieces on a wire rack or plate.
Heat the oil. Pour oil into a heavy-bottomed skillet or Dutch oven to a depth of about 1 inch. Heat over medium-high heat to 350°F. If you don’t have a thermometer, drop a pinch of panko into the oil — it should sizzle immediately and float.
Fry in batches. Working in batches of 4 to 5 strips to avoid crowding, fry the fish for 3 to 4 minutes per side until deep golden brown and cooked through. The internal temperature should reach 145°F. Transfer to a wire rack set over a baking sheet and season lightly with salt while still hot.
Hold and finish. Keep finished batches warm in a 200°F oven while you fry the remaining fish. Do not pile the strips on top of each other or they will steam and lose their crust.
Serve. Arrange fish chips on a platter alongside the dipping sauce. Serve immediately with lemon wedges if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

Fish Chips With Dipping Sauce — Fall in the Kitchen, the Door Always Open