What to Cook This June -- The Meal Paul Grilled Every Year

I read Paul's books in the evening. The shipwreck books, of course. The same chapters I have read forty times now. The repetition is the comfort. I am not reading for new information. I am reading because the act of opening Paul's books and turning Paul's pages is a form of sitting in the room with him. He is not in the room. The book was in his hand. The book is in my hand. The hands are connected through the book. Peter called from Chicago. He sounded thinner than last week. He said work was fine. I do not believe him. He said his apartment was fine. I do not believe him either. He asked about the dog. He asked about the lake. He told me he loved me. I told him I loved him too. I told him about the bread I was baking. He said he could almost smell it through the phone. We hung up. I stood at the sink for a long minute. I did not know what else to do. Sophie texted a photo of Mira eating cereal. Mira's face was covered in milk. The photo was lit from the side by morning light and the smile in it was uninhibited and full and I could not stop looking at it. I printed the photo. I taped it to the fridge. I have a system on the fridge now: a column for each grandchild, a column for each great-grandchild, photos rotated weekly. The fridge is the gallery. The gallery is the proof. I cooked Grilled salmon (Paul's meal) this week. Salmon brushed with butter and dill, grilled skin-side down on the back deck. The meal Paul grilled every June. The meal I grill now in his place. Served with the season's first asparagus and a glass of white wine. The Damiano Center: a regular named Marlene, who has been coming for twelve years, told me her granddaughter just had a baby. She was glowing. She had a photo on her phone. The phone was old and cracked but the photo was clear: a small pink baby in a hospital blanket. Marlene said: "I am a great-grandmother now. The same as you." I said: "Welcome to the club." We hugged. The line continues, even on the hard side of the soup line. Mamma's bread pans are on the shelf where they have always been. I used the smaller one this week. The metal has worn smooth in the places her hands touched it for sixty years. The pan is, in some real sense, a sculpture of Mamma's hands. I knead the bread in the bowl Mamma used. I shape it on the counter Mamma stood at (well, mine, but identical to hers — same Formica color, same dimensions). I bake it in the pan Mamma baked in. The kitchen is the relay. The relay continues. It is enough. Paul is not here. Mamma is not here. Pappa is not here. Erik is not here. They are all here in the kitchen, in the smell, in the taste, in the wooden spoon and the bread pans and the marble slab. The dead are not where the body went. The dead are in the kitchen. I have been blogging for years now. The blog began as something to do at night when sleep would not come. The blog has become — without my fully intending it — a small congregation. The readers come back. They read the recipes. They read the parts that are not recipes. They write to me sometimes. They tell me what they cooked. They tell me about their own kitchens, their own losses, their own continued cooking. The congregation is its own form of company. It is enough.

This is the meal I cook in June. It was Paul’s meal first — his territory, the back deck, the smell of butter and dill lifting off the grill into the evening air — and now it is mine, which is the same thing, which is a different thing. I did not change the recipe. I did not want to change the recipe. The asparagus was the season’s first; the wine was cold; the skin crisped the way it always crisped. If you need a reason to make this in June, you do not need one beyond the fact that June is here and the grill is waiting and someone you love once stood at it.

What to Cook This June: Grilled Salmon with Dill Butter and Asparagus

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 12 minutes | Total Time: 22 minutes | Servings: 2

Ingredients

• 2 salmon fillets (6–8 oz each), skin on
• 3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
• 2 tablespoons fresh dill, finely chopped (or 1 teaspoon dried)
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 1 tablespoon olive oil, for the grill
• 1 bunch thin asparagus (about 12 spears), woody ends trimmed
• 1 teaspoon olive oil (for asparagus)
• Salt and pepper to taste
• 1 lemon, halved, for serving
• Chilled white wine, for serving

Instructions

1. Heat the grill. Preheat your outdoor grill to medium-high heat, about 400°F. Brush the grates lightly with olive oil to prevent sticking.
2. Make the dill butter. In a small bowl, stir together the melted butter, chopped dill, and minced garlic. Set aside half for serving.
3. Prepare the salmon. Pat the salmon fillets dry with a paper towel. Season both sides with salt and pepper, then brush the flesh side generously with the dill butter mixture.
4. Prepare the asparagus. Toss the trimmed asparagus spears with 1 teaspoon olive oil and a pinch of salt and pepper.
5. Grill skin-side down. Place the salmon fillets skin-side down on the grill. Lay the asparagus alongside them. Grill salmon for 8–10 minutes without flipping, until the flesh is opaque and flakes easily at the thickest part. Grill asparagus 4–6 minutes, turning once, until tender and lightly charred.
6. Finish and serve. Transfer the salmon and asparagus to plates. Brush the salmon with the reserved dill butter. Squeeze fresh lemon over everything. Serve immediately with a cold glass of white wine.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 420 | Protein: 38g | Fat: 27g | Carbs: 6g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 390mg