Cabillaud en Papillote with Roasted Lemon Potatoes

My love of cooking stems–as I assume most people’s does–from a love of food. I started cooking when I was 18 because I had just been granted my own kitchen after three years of cafeteria food, three meals a day, seven days a week, supplemented by an occasional trip to Fuddruckers. When I was given my own kitchen in the first dorm I lived in in Toronto, it was like handing a kid a jar of Nutella and a spoon and saying, “Go nuts!”

And for a long time, that’s what it was: I was entranced by new ingredients, and I spent hours reading recipes online (OK, nevermind, I still do that). But it’s about something else now–at first, I was cooking for one person: myself. My love of cooking was fueled only by my personal enjoyment of good food, and I was afraid to cook for anyone else, because I was afraid that they wouldn’t like what I made.

Since then, of course, things have changed. Four years have elapsed, and not only have I moved out of that tiny first kitchen, where my tools were a set of nonstick pans from the discount store and I set off the smoke alarm every night to a giant kitchen in the South of France, but I’m no longer cooking for just myself. Yes, in my “normal” life (although the girls here have reminded me, as they stare, wide-eyed and slack-jawed as I explain my plans for the next few months–Paziols, New York, San Sebastian, Paris–that my life is anything but normal), I cook for two, and any stragglers who happen by my house to find a pan of lasagna or a stack of cookies. But here, it’s moved to a different level–I’m cooking every meal for 17 people, many more mouths than most people have to feed in a lifetime… and I’m loving it.

I love going to the grocery store with the girls, who spend whole minutes just staring at the giant pots of Nutella. I love watching them choke out the words, uncertain, asking the fishmonger for enough fish to feed a small army and nodding to the woman, who looks at me to make sure that the girls haven’t just confused their numbers.

I love the pantry, filled to the brim with potatoes and onions and garlic and boxes of milk and jars of jam that we make ourselves (all in good time, my friends, all in good time). I love knowing, as I fill up two caddies and drag them towards the checkout that I’m going to be making all of this food and sharing it with these kids who have come to France, not just for French, but for culture.

In the end, my personal meals are often eaten after everyone else has finished, sometimes cold, but I don’t mind one bit. I pull the fish out of the oven at the perfect temperature and watch as 17 faces who had looked at the board where we write the menu du jour with skepticism when they had seen poisson en papillotte written there swoop as I unwrap the filets and the scents of garlic and tomatoes waft out. “But I don’t like fish!” They had said, wrinkling their noses as they wandered in and stared at the bag that held the offending item.

Then why was there none left?

Cabillaud en Papillote

2 kilos cabillaud, or other white fish
3 Tbsp. olive oil
1 Tbsp. sunflower oil
6 cloves garlic, minced
6 tomatoes, chopped
2 lemons
1 tsp. herbes de provence
salt and pepper

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

Heat the oil over a low flame and add the garlic. Sauté for 1-2 minutes, until fragrant, and add the tomatoes. Cook for 10 minutes, or until the tomatoes have softened slightly.

Meanwhile, thinly slice a lemon into rounds.

Line a baking pan with aluminum foil so that the foil hangs over the sides of the pan. Lay the lemon slices over the bottom in an even strip. Place the fish fillets on top of the lemon slices in one layer (I do this in two pans). Spoon the tomato mixture over the top, and season with herbes de provence, salt and pepper.

Bake at 450 degrees until the fish is just cooked through, about half an hour. Serve immediately.

Roasted Lemon Potatoes
20-25 small/medium potatoes, cut into chunks
3 Tbsp. olive oil
salt and pepper
juice of one lemon
2 tsp. herbes de provence

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees.

Toss all ingredients together and roast, tossing once or twice, for 30 minutes, or until potatoes are crisp on the outside.