Spanish Fish — The New Year’s Table That Feeds Everyone Who Shows Up

New Year's Eve at our house. 2022 arriving like all the years before it — without permission, without fanfare, just the tick of the clock my mother-in-law gave us as a wedding present in 1988, still running, still loud, still hanging in the kitchen above the refrigerator where it has announced the seconds of thirty-four years of my cooking.

The traditional Puerto Rican Nochevieja: twelve grapes at midnight, one for each chime, each grape a wish for a month of the year. I had my grapes ready in a bowl on the kitchen counter, the little seedless ones from Stop & Shop, washed and dried and waiting. Eduardo rolled his eyes at the tradition, which is what Eduardo does every year, and then ate his twelve grapes like a good Puerto Rican husband, which is what he does every year.

I made lentils. Lentejas. The superstition says lentils at midnight bring money and abundance in the new year, and I am not a superstitious woman, mi amor, but I am also not a woman who turns down a good lentil. I made them the way Luz María taught me — with chorizo and potatoes and a generous amount of cumin, thick enough to stand a spoon in, hot enough to burn a careless tongue. A bowl for Eduardo. A bowl for me. A bowl I drove to Mami at 9 PM because she goes to bed early now, and I wanted her to eat the lentils before she fell asleep in the new year.

She ate half. She said, "This is good, but it needs more vinegar." I laughed so hard I almost spilled the rest on her couch. Eighty-five years old next month, uncertain about the day of the week, and still — still — correcting my seasoning. The woman is a monument.

At midnight Eduardo and I watched the ball drop on the television that has shown us thirty-four ball drops in this house and sixteen in the first house before we bought this one. Fifty years of watching Dick Clark and then Ryan Seacrest, and Eduardo always says the same thing: "That kid looks younger every year." And every year it is funnier, because every year Eduardo looks older, and the joke is on both of us, but we keep watching.

Miguel Jr. called at 12:05 from his house. Rosa called at 12:10. David called at 12:15. Sofía, who was out with friends, texted a photo of herself in a sparkly dress. James from Brooklyn posted a picture of the midnight pernil he'd eaten alone at David's restaurant — David was working — and the pernil was mine, frozen, shipped to Brooklyn, thawed by James. My pernil. In Brooklyn. On New Year's Eve. Wepa.

2022 begins with lentils in my stomach and all my children accounted for and my mother still alive to critique me. I take nothing for granted. The year is new. The recipe is old. The love is the same. Wepa.

The lentils are the heart of my Nochevieja — they always will be — but it’s this Spanish fish that I turn to when the new year has settled in and the house is quiet again and Eduardo and I need something that feels just as ceremonial without requiring me to stand over a pot for an hour. Luz María taught me that good food doesn’t have to be complicated to be serious, and this dish — tomatoes, cumin, good fish — carries the same spirit she gave those lentejas: bold, honest, made with love and a little fire. I think even Mami would approve of the seasoning.

Spanish Fish

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 1 1/2 lbs firm white fish fillets (cod, tilapia, or haddock), cut into portions
• 1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, undrained
• 1 medium yellow onion, thinly sliced
• 1 green bell pepper, seeded and thinly sliced
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
• 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
• 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (or to taste)
• 1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to season fish
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped, for serving
• 1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
• Crusty bread or white rice, for serving

Instructions

1. Season the fish. Pat fish fillets dry with paper towels. Season both sides lightly with salt and black pepper. Set aside.
2. Build the sofrito base. Heat olive oil in a large, deep skillet over medium heat. Add the sliced onion and bell pepper and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and just beginning to color, about 7–8 minutes. Add the minced garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
3. Add spices and tomatoes. Stir in the cumin, smoked paprika, oregano, and red pepper flakes. Cook for 30 seconds to bloom the spices. Pour in the diced tomatoes with their juices and stir to combine. Season the sauce with 1/2 teaspoon salt. Reduce heat to medium-low and simmer 8–10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the sauce thickens slightly.
4. Nestle in the fish. Lay the seasoned fish fillets in a single layer directly into the simmering tomato sauce. Spoon a little sauce over the tops of each fillet. Cover the skillet and cook until the fish is opaque and flakes easily with a fork, about 8–10 minutes depending on thickness. Do not stir — let the fish cook gently in the sauce.
5. Finish and serve. Remove from heat and stir in the red wine vinegar. Taste and adjust seasoning. Scatter fresh parsley over the top and serve directly from the skillet with crusty bread for soaking up the sauce, or over white rice.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 265 | Protein: 34g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 12g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 480mg