Coming from a landlocked state, I have a deep distrust of cooking seafood. My memories of it from childhood mostly involve unrecognizable fillets from deep within the grocer’s freezer. As far as I could tell, there were two types of fish: white and salmon, which came from a can.

 

I have certainly not outgrown this feeling. There are just so many things that can go wrong with seafood, like death from a bad clam or parasites from swordfish. Even simply buying the seafood is wrought with anxiety. My environmentally conscious fishmonger keeps the list of overfished species right on the counter, right above the dead carcasses of the fish you are warned not to eat to keep the ecosystem from collapsing all together. You want monkfish? Jesus, why don’t you just get a baseball bat and club a… More…