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Pecan-Crusted Catfish — The Nut That Showed Up Twice This Christmas

December. Christmas planning. The tree goes up — same lean, same angel, same everything. Zaria can reach the ornaments now, which means the lower third of the tree is a combat zone. Aiden decorates the upper branches. I decorate the middle. The tree is a collective project, like the family itself: uneven, imperfect, lit from within. Brianna and I have a truce. Not a formal one — truces in marriage are never formal. But an understanding: we will get through the holidays. We will be present for the children. We will eat together and open presents together and go to Mama's together and we will not have the conversation we both know is coming. The conversation is waiting, patient, like a bill you have not opened. It will wait until January. Everything difficult waits until January. I have been cooking for Christmas: my dry rub in mason jars (the annual food gift), a brisket for Dad, a batch of my barbecue sauce for Jerome, and — new this year — a pecan pie. My first pie. The crust was store-bought (I am not there yet on pastry), but the filling was from scratch: pecans, corn syrup, brown sugar, butter, eggs, vanilla. The pie baked at 350 for fifty minutes and came out golden and set and beautiful. I tasted a sliver and it was good — sweet, nutty, buttery. Not Mama's pecan pie (her crust is homemade and it makes a difference), but a pie that I made, that I will bring to Christmas, that will sit on the dessert table next to Mama's cakes and puddings and hold its own. I am thirty years old. I can cook Thanksgiving dinner. I can smoke a brisket. I can make a pecan pie. I can grill for fifty people. I can make gumbo from a dark roux and fried chicken from a buttermilk soak. I can make my mother close her eyes when she tastes my banana pudding. And I cannot save my marriage. The irony is not lost on me. The kitchen is the place where I am most myself, and the marriage is the place where I am most lost.

Pecans were already on my mind this Christmas—my first pecan pie was still sitting on the counter, golden and set, proof that I could do something I’d never done before. That feeling got me thinking about what else I could do with the nut that had been following me through December, and pecan-crusted catfish felt exactly right: Southern, a little unexpected, and built on the same buttery crunch that made that pie worth bringing to Mama’s table. The kitchen keeps giving me places to be certain when everything else is not, and this recipe is one more of those places.

Pecan-Crusted Catfish

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 27 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 4 catfish fillets (about 6 oz each)
  • 1 cup finely chopped pecans
  • 1/2 cup plain breadcrumbs
  • 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
  • 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • 2 large eggs
  • 2 tablespoons buttermilk
  • 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
  • Lemon wedges, for serving

Instructions

  1. Preheat oven. Heat oven to 400°F. Line a baking sheet with a wire rack and lightly coat with cooking spray.
  2. Make the pecan crust. In a shallow dish, combine the chopped pecans, breadcrumbs, garlic powder, smoked paprika, cayenne, salt, and black pepper. Stir until evenly mixed.
  3. Prepare the egg wash. In a separate shallow dish, whisk together the eggs and buttermilk until smooth.
  4. Coat the fillets. Pat catfish fillets dry with paper towels. Dip each fillet in the egg wash, letting the excess drip off, then press firmly into the pecan-breadcrumb mixture on both sides to coat completely.
  5. Sear for color. Heat vegetable oil in a large oven-safe skillet over medium-high heat. Add the coated fillets and cook for 2–3 minutes per side until the crust is golden and beginning to set.
  6. Finish in the oven. Transfer the skillet or the fillets on the prepared rack to the oven. Bake for 8–10 minutes, until the fish flakes easily with a fork and the pecan crust is deep golden brown.
  7. Serve. Plate immediately with lemon wedges on the side. Pairs well with coleslaw, roasted greens, or cornbread.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 430 | Protein: 34g | Fat: 28g | Carbs: 11g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 380mg

DeShawn Carter
About the cook who shared this
DeShawn Carter
Week 187 of DeShawn’s 30-year story · Detroit, Michigan
DeShawn is a thirty-six-year-old single dad, auto plant worker, and a man who didn't learn to cook until his wife left and his five-year-old asked, "Daddy, can you cook something?" He called his mama, who came over with two bags of groceries and spent six months teaching him the basics. Now he's the dad at the cookout who brings the ribs, the guy at the plant whose leftover gumbo starts fights, and living proof that it's never too late to learn.

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