By Ezra Klein
It’s late. You’re tired. Add to that, you’ve been eating like crap lately. Beer and meat and butter and Christmas cookies. You don’t want to go out. But you don’t want to spend time cooking, either. This was basically my thinking as I trudged into the market at 7pm on a Thursday. I didn’t want to cook. I just wanted to eat, and not feel like a gastric bypass afterwards.
The resulting dinner was easy and delicious. Catfish lightly dusted with a sifted mixture of flour, cayenne papper, and salt. It was fried, ys, but in olive oil, and then left to drain on a plate with paper towels. Topped it with a quick fresh salsa — a sloppily diced and utterly bad tomato, half an avocado chopped, some diced onion, some cilantro, some lime, some serrano pepper, some hot sauce — and put it next to some boxed couscous and a few stalks of roasted asparagus. The whole thing took less than half an hour, and though it was still late, and I was still tired, at least I was full.