Grilled Swordfish Salmoriglio

One week at Harmony Dental. Five days. Fifteen patients. Zero complications. Fourteen positive reviews (one patient didn't say anything, which I'm choosing to interpret as neutral, not negative, because Dr. Whitfield taught me that silence is sometimes the highest praise). The front desk receptionist — Marie, fifty-something, been there twenty years — said to Dr. Patel, "She's good. Really good." She said it in front of me. She didn't know I heard it. I heard it. I'm keeping it forever.

The paycheck. Oh God, the paycheck. My first paycheck from Harmony Dental arrived via direct deposit on Friday. I looked at my bank account and the number was more money than I've ever had at one time in my life. More than a week at the Waffle House. More than two weeks at the Waffle House. The amount isn't important — what's important is what it represents: a skill, compensated fairly, for the first time. I sat in my car in the Harmony Dental parking lot (new parking lot, new tears, same ritual) and looked at the number and thought about the $50 tip and the $3 daily tips from Mr. Gerald and the $7-per-hour wage that was my ceiling for seven years. The ceiling is gone. There's sky up there. I can see it.

I went to Kroger and I bought groceries without checking my bank account first. Without. Checking. My. Bank. Account. I put chicken breasts in the cart (not on sale, REGULAR PRICE chicken breasts, the full $5.99/pound kind) and I put fresh vegetables and I put name-brand goldfish crackers — the BIG carton, the one Chloe cried about at four years old, the one I couldn't afford — and I put it in the cart and I didn't do math. I just put things in the cart and I paid and I drove home and I put the goldfish crackers on the counter and Chloe saw them and SCREAMED. "THE BIG ONES, MAMA! THE BIG ONES!" Yes, baby. The big ones. The name-brand, smiling-fish, big-carton, full-price goldfish crackers. We made it.

Valentine's Day is Tuesday. I don't have a valentine. I don't need a valentine. I have a career and a kitchen and two kids and name-brand goldfish crackers and that is more romance than Marcus Thompson ever gave me. My valentine is the paycheck. My valentine is the counter space. My valentine is my own name on the mailbox of an apartment I can afford.

I made baked salmon for dinner this week. SALMON. I have never in my life bought salmon on purpose. It was $8.99 for two filets and I bought it because I COULD and because my kids deserve to eat salmon and because Sarah Mitchell from Antioch never had salmon and Sarah Mitchell from Hermitage does. Baked at 400 with lemon, garlic, butter, dill. Served with rice and asparagus. Chloe tried it and said, "This is good, Mama. What is it?" I said, "Salmon." She said, "Can we have it again?" Yes. Yes, we can have it again. We can have it whenever we want. We can have anything we want. We earned it.

That salmon dinner cracked something open in me — the idea that I could just… buy fish. Nice fish. On purpose. So I kept going. Swordfish salmoriglio is everything that salmon dinner represented: a bright, lemony, herb-forward recipe that asks nothing of you except good ingredients and a hot pan or grill. It’s the kind of dish Sarah Mitchell from Antioch never would have attempted, and the kind Sarah Mitchell from Hermitage makes on a Tuesday because her kids deserve it and so does she.

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

Ingredients

4 swordfish steaks (about 6 oz each, 1 inch thick)
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for brushing
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice (about 2 lemons)
1 teaspoon lemon zest
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped
1 tablespoon fresh oregano leaves (or 1 teaspoon dried)
1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more for seasoning
1/4 teaspoon black pepper

Instructions

Make the salmoriglio. In a small bowl, whisk together the olive oil, lemon juice, lemon zest, garlic, parsley, oregano, and red pepper flakes. Season with 1/2 teaspoon salt and set aside. This sauce is best made right before serving so the herbs stay bright.
Prepare the grill or grill pan. Heat an outdoor grill or grill pan over medium-high heat until hot. Brush the grates or pan lightly with olive oil to prevent sticking.
Season the fish. Pat the swordfish steaks dry with paper towels. Brush both sides lightly with olive oil and season generously with salt and black pepper.
Grill the swordfish. Place steaks on the hot grill and cook without moving for 4–5 minutes, until grill marks form and the fish releases easily. Flip and cook another 3–4 minutes, until the fish is opaque through the center and flakes easily with a fork. Do not overcook — swordfish dries out quickly.
Rest and sauce. Transfer steaks to a serving platter and let rest for 2 minutes. Spoon the salmoriglio generously over each steak and serve immediately. Extra sauce on the side is never a bad idea.

Nutrition (per serving)

Grilled Swordfish Salmoriglio — The Night I Bought Fish on Purpose