Salt Baked Tilapia

A recipe from my grandma, 阿媽

I don’t find good food all that hard to come by, but I am picky about a couple of things. I like when it’s cheap but fresh, and I don’t like waiting in lines. Occasionally I do like to splurge on a good meal at a nice restaurant, but when it’s my second time that week or I’m in a bigger city, it’s hard not to taste the hole in my pocket with each bite.

I don’t like spending money, and I don’t like waiting, so that’s why a lot of the time I prefer to cook at home. But for some reason, food always seems to taste better when someone else makes it. My grandma isn’t a restaurant-trained chef, but at the same time, she’s one of the best cooks in my life. I only get to eat her cooking every few years, but it always checks all the boxes. It’s always simple, but fresh, and I don’t have to spend a dollar.

I aspire to one day be financially stable enough to eat out, pay the price a restaurant deserves, and leave guilt-free, but for now a recipe from my grandma, ā mā 阿媽.

Salt-Cooked Tilapia

Like most grandmas, you have to be careful what you say about food around my grandma. The slightest mention that you enjoyed something and it’ll start reappearing on the dining room table every other day. You’ll eat enough of it to last you a few decades and you start questioning if this is the same thing you thought was so good two days ago, or if your food-induced brain fog lead you to point to another dish. So in some ways, it works out that I only eat her cooking every few years.

My grandma goes to pick up fresh tilapia in the mornings before everyone is awake. She has more energy than anyone I’ve ever known. By the time we come downstairs, she’s already gone to the market, gossiped with her friends, and brought back four buckets of different produce that are sitting in the kitchen.

The fish gets gutted and washed, but the scales must stay on. The thick scales will protect the fish and prevent too much salt from penetrating the skin. Without them, the fish will get too salty and you won’t be able to peel back the caked-on salt as easily. She stuffs the belly with tons of green onion, garlic, and ginger. I can’t remember if she salts the inside before or not, either way is fine.

Then, she pours a bag of salt into a wok, enough for the tilapia to lay in without touching the sides of the pan. She carefully lays the fish in the pan and covers the top with another layer of salt. It becomes the cooking medium, wrapping the fish up in a thick blanket of salty heat and seasoning it at the same time. With the lid on, a medium flame bakes the fish until fully cooked.

Once finished and plated, the salt stays on, caking the fish like snow. On this particular day, we had it for breakfast. A plate of fresh fruit cut up on the dining table and some black coffee on a bed of newspapers. With some chopsticks and a bit of precision, peel back the thick layers of salt and scales to reveal tender, white flesh underneath. Be careful not to spill any salt on the exposed flesh or break it up as you peel back the scales. Bits of salt on the chopsticks will perfectly season each bite of garlicky, oniony tilapia and the aromatics in the belly will be perfectly cooked. And with each bite, try not to appear too content, otherwise the fish may somehow magically reappear come dinner time.