Zesty Salt Substitute

The State Fair in full swing — fried Oreos, the world's biggest cabbage, the carousel. Pete and I worked the night shift Friday. We talked between codes about the kids — his daughter's wedding planning, my sister's pregnancy. The talking was the keeping.

Lourdes is 76. She is slower. She still cooks. She still tells me to find a husband even though I have one.

I made kinilaw Saturday — the Filipino ceviche. Salmon, vinegar, ginger, chili. The fish was Joseph's.

I wrote the blog post Friday night at the kitchen table while Reyna napped on the couch. The post was short. The post was honest.

The week was ordinary. The ordinary is the point now. The ordinary is the keeping.

The Filipino Community newsletter announced the Saturday gathering. I will be on lumpia duty. I am always on lumpia duty.

I took a walk on the coastal trail Saturday. The light was good. The body was tired but moving.

I sat on the balcony in the cold for ten minutes Sunday night with a cup of broth in my hands. The cold was the cold. The broth was the broth. The body held both.

I drove the Glenn Highway out to Eklutna on Saturday. The mountains were the mountains. The lake was the lake. The body needed the open road. The open road did its work.

Angela texted me a photo of the kids. I texted back a heart. The exchange took thirty seconds. The thirty seconds was the keeping.

Auntie Norma called Sunday afternoon. She is now seventy-nine. She wanted a recipe. I gave it to her. She wanted to know how my week was. I told her, briefly. She told me about her week. The exchange took eighteen minutes. The eighteen minutes was the keeping.

I checked email at the kitchen table while the rice cooked. There were one hundred and twenty unread messages. I closed the laptop. The unread can wait.

The salmon in the freezer is from August. Joseph's catch. The bag is labeled in his handwriting — "for Grace." I will use it next week.

The break room had cake Tuesday. Someone's birthday. We ate the cake. We did not ask whose birthday. The cake was the cake.

The therapy session this month was about pacing. Dr. Reeves said, "Grace. The pacing is the love for the future self." I am working on the pacing. The pacing is harder than the loving.

The light was good Saturday morning. I sat on the porch with a cup of coffee and watched the inlet for forty minutes. The watching was the small therapy. The therapy was free.

Pete and I had a long phone conversation Tuesday. We talked about the family — his and mine. The talking was the keeping.

The Anchorage sky was the Anchorage sky. The mountains were the mountains. The inlet was the inlet. The geography was the geography.

I read a chapter of a novel before bed each night this week. The novel was about a Filipina nurse in California. The novel was good. The novel was, in some way, my own life adjacent.

The grocery store had no calamansi. I substituted lime. The substitution was acceptable. The acceptable is the working version of perfect.

A reader from New Jersey wrote in about her grandmother's adobo, which used pineapple. I had never heard of pineapple in adobo. I tried it. It was strange. It was also good. The strange and the good are not opposites.

Lourdes called me twice this week. The first call was about a church event. The second was about a recipe variation she had remembered from her childhood. The remembering was the gift.

The kinilaw I made Saturday — salmon from Joseph’s August catch, lime standing in for calamansi because the grocery store was out — reminded me how much a good seasoning blend does the quiet work. When the citrus is right and the heat is there, the fish does the rest. This is the zesty salt substitute I keep in a small jar by the stove, the one I reach for when I want brightness without weight — on fish, on greens, on whatever ordinary meal the week calls for. Auntie Norma asked me for a recipe Sunday afternoon, and honestly, this is the one I should have given her first.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 10 min | Servings: About 24 (makes roughly 1/2 cup)

Ingredients

2 tablespoons dried lemon or lime zest
1 tablespoon garlic powder
1 tablespoon onion powder
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon dried basil
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon citric acid (optional — adds extra tang; omit if unavailable)

Instructions

Zest if fresh. If using fresh citrus zest, spread it on a parchment-lined baking sheet and let it air-dry at room temperature for 2–3 hours before mixing, or dry in a 200°F oven for 20 minutes and cool completely.
Combine. Add all ingredients to a small bowl and stir until evenly blended. Taste and adjust — more ginger for heat, more citric acid for brightness.
Store. Transfer to a small airtight jar or spice container. Label with the date. Keeps at room temperature for up to 3 months.
Use. Sprinkle over fish (especially salmon), grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, salad greens, or rice in place of salt. Start with 1/2 teaspoon per serving and adjust to taste.

Nutrition (per serving, approx. 1/2 teaspoon)

Zesty Salt Substitute — The Seasoning That Kept the Week Honest