Bitten by Bittman

It was bound to happen. My love affair with Mark Bittman was destined to end at some point.

I could accept the fact that I was only one of many Bittman lovers out there. I didn't even mind that his recipes often don't specify exact measurements. But when he bashed Tilapia, I had to step back and reconsider our relationship.

Here's what happened. Yesterday, on a whim, I purchased two Tilapia filets at United Meat Market, the excellent Windsor Terrace butcher, with no specific plans about what to do with them. (If you haven't been there, by the way, you need to high tail it over to the market, which has been operating since the early 80s and is a real slice of 'old Brooklyn.').

I assumed that Mark Bittman would have an idea of how I should cook my Tilapia. But when I checked my well-worn copy of Bittman's Bible How to Cook Everything, I was shocked and disappointed. Not only does Bittman not feature any Tilapia recipes, but he's got a paragraph (highlighted in red, no less) about "Why I'm not Crazy About Tilapia."

Bittman writes:

Framed tilapia has become extremely popular and readily available over the last few years, in large part becasue it's so easy to raise. (You, personally, could probably dig a hole in the ground, fill it with water, and become a tilapia farmer tomorrow.) But I'm not taking the bait. To me, tilapia is bland tasting (or worse: muddy) with a mealy texture that disintegrates into shreds within a few minutes of cooking. If you disagree, by all means use it in any of the recipes that call for thin fish fillets.

Pretty harsh, if you ask me. And to be honest, I don't think I have it in me to farm my own tilapia in a ditch in our backyard.

Determined to show Bittman that tilapia can be tasty, I came up with my own recipe:

1. Roast Brussels Sprouts and garlic (with olive oil, salt and pepper) at 450 degrees.

2. Coat Tilapia fillets with sesame oil, salt and pepper, soy sauce, and sesame seeds and toss on the pan with the Brussels Sprouts.

After about 10 minutes, take them out.

That's it! Once the Brussels Sprouts are done (about 35 minutes later), serve with the Tilapia and couscous. Or you can time it better so that the Tilapia is done at the same time as the sprouts, but I couldn't get it together.

Roasting is my new favorite way of cooking. Put anything on a pan and coat with some sort of oil and salt and pepper and it tastes great -- even Tilapia.

For the record, Mr. Bittman, my Tilapia did not disintegrated into shreds within a few minutes of cooking (or at all), as you predicted.

"It's not as good as Chilean sea bass, but it's pretty yummy. And not at all muddy," said Avo.

Welcome Home

The girls and I are back in Brooklyn.

We arrived home on Saturday afternoon to find a spotless apartment. It seems that in preparation for our return, Avo scrubbed the bathrooms, polished the floors, and vacuumed the carpets. The laundry was clean too, but he confessed that he took the easy route and sent it to a local laundromat (nobody's perfect!).

Clearly, he must have lacked for entertainment while we were away because he also organized our Tupperware collection. What a wild and crazy guy!

Trying to get back in the swing of domestic life, this morning I went food shopping. But when I arrived home and unpacked my reusable bags, I realized that I had purchased nothing substantial. Nothing with which to cook a meal -- unless I plan on serving peanut butter pretzels, dried mango and cereal for dinner.

Now Avo is cooking us a late dinner of grilled tilapia with fresh basil from our garden. Unfortunately, I neglected to buy any vegetables to accompany the fish.

If we get desperate for a side dish, we might have to resort to the peanut butter pretzels. After all, they are a wonderful source of protein.

"At least I defrosted the fish and turned on the rice cooker, right?" I ask pathetically.

"Nobody defrosts fish quite like you, honey."

It's nice to be home.