A recipe for fish stew, cooked by someone who is not me

A while back, I had an idea that I would expand the concept of this whole project: have [GASP] another person make a recipe from it and let me know how it went. This wasn't because I love to delegate or to share; it came about because said person had had an idea for a dinner we could have—fish stew—and I remembered that that a form of that recipe existed in Fave Recipes, and I knew I'd be busy with the other half of the dinner (artichokes). Convenience, as it usually does, won out.

After a trip to a suburban grocery store—a dream in many ways (space), a nightmare in others (lack of exciting ingredients) which went very smoothly per our new technique of using the Apple Notes app checklist function to divide/conquer/indicate to others what you've picked up in real time, we—as in myself and my life partner and living companion—began attempting Seafood Stew ala Carolyn. As you might guess, this recipe came from Carolyn, but as I yet again have only a vague memory of hearing of it, I had to go to the source to find out more. The source in this case was (surprise!!!) my Aunt Carolyn.

Apparently Seafood Stew ala Carolyn is actually a 1998 Bon Appétit recipe that was clearly much loved, judging by the printout she uses of it, which you can see below. "This Italian-style stew — called cioppino — makes a hearty supper. Serve it with a green salad, garlic bread and a crisp white wine," the Epicurious link notes. This seems as good a time as any to point out that if you would like a good read about the mercurial nature of the media and food industries during a period of extreme turmoil (when is there not one, haha, that's the funny joke), pick up former Gourmet editor Ruth Reichl's Save Me the Plums. In it, she notes that she was extremely excited when S.I. Newhouse, the then-head of Condé Nast (parent company of the now defunct Gourmet and still chugging along Bon App) told her the magazine would finally be allowed to have a website, only to have him clarify to her that the recipes from Gourmet would not be seen on Gourmet.com, but would be the purview of Epicurious.com. A death sentence if there ever was one for the soon-to-be shuttered, much-beloved publication. (Her other memoirs are equally well-written and less depressing, if you favor that vibe.)

In any case, we now have this dinner's origins: an Italian-American stew that first came to San Francisco California by way of Genoa in the 1900s. (How far it has traveled! What stories it could tell!) I feel fairly confident that we drank a crisp white with it, per the magazine's instructions, because what else do we prefer, but who can really say. I do know that I served it with bread and the aforementioned artichokes, not the way I prefer above all others, which is steamed, but because I am a millennial, via an Alison Roman recipe that calls for them to be dissected and roasted in wine. They were delicious, but a lot of work, and I missed the aioli/mayonnaise dip my go-to is always accompanied by.

Finally, here are the dinner maker's notes, presented without comment, because frankly, I think they speak for themselves. The dinner was, if I recall correctly (it was in January; I've eaten a lot since then) very good.

Fish stew

- Wanted to do squid because it seemed fun, but they didn’t have it so I did white fish

- Toasted the fennel seed for extra flave

-Added red pepper flakes for some spice

-Oops i think I added too much salt not gonna say anything

-Smells good tho

-I mostly don’t measure anything so we will see with everything

-Seems like a lot of clam juice lol

-I added more tomatoes because I’m nervous about the clam juice. Will probably add the rest of the clam juice *shrug emoji*

-Okay added the rest of the clam juice. Kate said “it’s basically like salty water” and I am now calm

-Did a little tasty while it’s boiling: it’s good :)

-Just dropped 4.5 lbs of seafood in. Fuck this looks good.

-Wow this smells good

-Haha this whipped

-Im so full fuck me

I think we'll leave it at that?

KATE

P.S. Everyone seems to love holiday cookies, which suggests that maybe we should just make them year round? Not all of them, just some of them? The not too holiday-y ones? Anyway, just a comforting idea you should feel free to run with right now.