← Back to Blog

Grilled Halibut with Mustard Dill Sauce -- For Joseph, Who Said It Was a Big Halibut

Thanksgiving. I hosted the ER potluck again — the post-Thanksgiving gathering that has become tradition, the annual event where nurses and techs and residents bring whatever their exhaustion allows and eat it standing up in my apartment because none of us had Thanksgiving Day off and the American holiday happened without us while we were starting IVs and managing codes.

I made lumpia. A hundred. Not Lourdes's three hundred — I'm one woman with two hands and a limited supply of wrappers from the Asian market on Mountain View Drive — but a hundred, enough for fifteen hungry healthcare workers who showed up with potluck contributions ranging from impressive (Rachel's cornbread) to desperate (Pete's bag of chips, still sealed, from the vending machine). The lumpia disappeared in twenty minutes. Pete ate twelve. I counted.

Before the party, I went to the Mountain View house for Lourdes's Thanksgiving. The real one. Turkey — because Lourdes has adopted Thanksgiving with the enthusiasm of an immigrant who loves any holiday that centers food — alongside pancit, lechon kawali, and lumpia. Angela and James were there. The house was full. The table was full. My plate was full. Lourdes made me sit next to her and monitored my eating with the intensity of a hawk watching prey. "More turkey." "More pancit." "Why are you not eating the lechon?" I was eating the lechon. I was eating everything. I was eating the way Santos women eat during Thanksgiving: with gratitude, with excess, with the particular fervor of a family that knows what hunger looks like because our parents crossed an ocean to escape it.

Joseph called from Kodiak. Crab season is underway. He sounded tired but alive, which is all Lourdes needs to hear — alive. She held the phone with both hands and asked him if he'd eaten and he said yes and she said "what did you eat" and he said "halibut" and she said "that's not enough" and he said "it was a big halibut" and this is the conversation they have every call, the liturgy of a mother and her youngest child, the call-and-response of love and fish and survival.

When Joseph said “halibut” and Lourdes said “that’s not enough,” I knew exactly what she meant — not that halibut isn’t enough fish, but that eating alone on a boat in Kodiak while the rest of us were shoulder-to-shoulder at her table is never going to be enough, no matter the portion size. But I also thought: if you’re going to eat something on a crab boat on Thanksgiving night, far from pancit and lechon and a mother who monitors your plate like a hawk, a fresh Alaskan halibut is not a bad way to go. This grilled halibut with mustard dill sauce is the version I’d want him to have — simple enough for someone exhausted from the sea, and good enough to feel like a meal worth calling home about.

Grilled Halibut with Mustard Dill Sauce

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 12–15 min | Total Time: 25 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 4 halibut fillets (about 6 oz each), skin on or off
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
  • Lemon wedges, for serving
  • For the Mustard Dill Sauce:
  • 3 tablespoons Dijon mustard
  • 2 tablespoons mayonnaise
  • 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
  • 1 tablespoon fresh dill, chopped (or 1 teaspoon dried dill)
  • 1 teaspoon honey
  • 1 small garlic clove, minced
  • Salt and pepper to taste

Instructions

  1. Make the sauce. In a small bowl, whisk together the Dijon mustard, mayonnaise, lemon juice, dill, honey, and minced garlic until smooth. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Cover and refrigerate until ready to serve.
  2. Preheat the grill. Heat an outdoor grill or grill pan over medium-high heat. Lightly oil the grates to prevent sticking.
  3. Season the halibut. Pat the fillets dry with paper towels. Brush both sides with olive oil and season evenly with salt, pepper, and garlic powder.
  4. Grill the fish. Place fillets on the grill and cook for 4–5 minutes per side, flipping once, until the fish is opaque throughout and flakes easily with a fork. Avoid moving the fillets too early — they will release naturally from the grill when a good sear has formed.
  5. Rest and serve. Transfer the fillets to a platter and let rest for 2 minutes. Spoon the mustard dill sauce generously over each fillet and serve with lemon wedges alongside.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 290 | Protein: 36g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 4g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 420mg

Grace Santos
About the cook who shared this
Grace Santos
Week 188 of Grace’s 30-year story · Anchorage, Alaska
Grace is a thirty-seven-year-old ER nurse in Anchorage, Alaska — Filipino-American, single, and the person her entire community calls when they need a hundred lumpia for a party or a shoulder to cry on after a hard shift. She cooks to cope with the things she sees in the emergency room, feeding her neighbors and her church and anyone who looks like they need a plate. Her adobo could bring peace to a warring nation. Her schedule could kill a lesser person.

How Would You Spin It?

Put your own twist on this recipe — what would you add, remove, or swap?