The Olympic Sculpture Park, All the Change in the Air
(And cod poached in shallots and coconut milk)
I’m savoring the glow of early evening by the waterfront, after spending the afternoon at the sculpture park along with what seems like everyone else in Seattle. This time last year, it was hard to fathom any place looking like this, with people filling out all of the spaces that were empty. I remember when I longed for this, when being outside and feeling so alone was its own kind of grief. But now, after fearing for over a year that the very breath of another person could make me sick, that my own breath could make others sick, I don’t know how to unlearn the lesson of staying away from people. How to change back into the person I was before all of this, living in a world that was nothing like this one. A sort of change that feels like a regression.
At least there are constants that help me tie these two worlds and my two selves together. One of those constants is here at the Sculpture Park, a sprawling place right on the waterfront, covered in monumental works of art, incredible views of the Sound and home to Richard Serra’s Wake, which never fails to make me feel like I know exactly where I belong in the world.
The structures tower above me both physically and conceptually, and I am both in awe of their size and forget that they’re even there at all. Because each structure is sized equally, they are in perfect proportion to each other. Yet from a distance, their S-shaped curves look almost kinetic, like they’re moving in the wind, one following the other. They seem both alien and like they’re a natural part of the environment all at once. And when I move among them it’s like I’m being swallowed into a different world. For this serial overthinker, Wake is a perfect gift and a reminder that even if my place in the world changes, I can remain rooted in who I am.
Lately I have been feeling like I am approaching a period of change. The last time I felt this way was when I was in my late twenties, and a few months later I found myself in Thailand, stumbling around a new life for which I was not at all prepared. This time around, there’s also the nagging voice that tells me I am too old to be in a time of transition, that my 30s are not for major life changes. That now is when I’m supposed to be settling into my life, enjoying the fruits of the trees I should have planted back in my 20s. But I planted no trees and I still feel like a branch, growing.
So, is youth the only time for taking leaps? For brave new ideas? Logically, I know that we get better as we get older, even if we aren’t celebrated for it. We can pivot. We can try new things. We can take a giant leap with nothing but our wild imagination (and years of experience) beneath us. We, too, can embrace the youthful belief that things will work out in the end. This is what I plan to tell myself the next time I decide that I’m all done with wild new ideas.
I am just getting started.
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Something to Cook: cod poached in shallots and coconut milk
It all started when I noticed that my local fish counter had fresh cod from Neah Bay. I bought more cod than I probably need, as someone who lives alone, and have yet to regret it. I first made this brothy cod earlier in the week because I wanted to make tomato-braised cod and realized I didn’t have enough tomatoes after I had already taken the cod out of the freezer. I improvised with the things I had in my pantry and quickly fell in love. Start to finish, it takes about 30 minutes and you’re left with a dish that’s both rich and light, complex and familiar.
Ingredients:
(as always, these measurements are subjective. Adjust to your needs)
A lot of shallots, diced (I used 6)
Garlic, minced (I used 4 cloves)
Olive or other oil, try not to use anything too pungent
Double concentrated tomato paste (I used 2 tablespoons)
Anchovies (I used 4 fillets)
Coconut milk (the kind that comes in a can, I used 1/3 cup)
Cod (or other fish of your choice; I’m sure Halibut would be great here, as would salmon)
One Serrano (or jalapeno) pepper, sliced lengthwise (this is optional)
Salt and pepper to taste
Lime
Green onion, for garnish
Instructions:
Use a wide pan or a high-walled skillet with something to cover the top.
Start your pan on medium-low heat and add your shallots and olive oil, season with salt and freshly ground black pepper
Sauté the shallots in olive oil until they become soft and light gold in color, about four minutes.
Add the anchovies and stir to combine them with the shallots. They’ll melt away in about a minute.
(if you absolutely cannot use anchovies, substitute one tablespoon of good quality fish sauce)
Add the tomato paste, stirring constantly until it goes from a bright red to a dark amber, then add the garlic and coconut milk. Stir gently to combine.
Season your cod with salt and black pepper and then nestle the fillets into the coconut broth. They should be a little more than halfway covered by the liquid, the tops of the fillets exposed.
If you’re adding the serrano pepper, slice it once lengthwise and don’t remove the pith or seeds before placing each slice face down in the broth, near the fish.
Cover the pan, turn the heat down to low, and let it simmer until the fish is done. Mine took about 10 minutes.
Serve with thinly sliced green onions, juice of half a lime and a drizzle of olive oil. Rice or a slice of good crusty bread would be great for soaking up all that broth.
I hope you enjoy.