When I think about what to have for dinner, I wonder, "Where will we go tonight?" When I was a "food professional", people would ask, "What's your specialty?" A blue-collar cook doesn't have the luxury of focusing on a specialty. You just  reproduce whatever your current boss's specialty is. I've cooked French, Italian, Indian, Mexican, Thai, Northwestern Fusion (whatever that is), American grill standards, California food-of-the-moment, and an occasional MIddle Eastern dish or two.
 
Stocking a refrigerator and a pantry for all those foreign lands takes lots of room. I have Korean bean paste, chimichurri sauce, preserved lemons, roasted garlic, tamarind paste, chipotles in sauce, tahini, wasabi, hoisin, miso, frozen noodles, keffir lime leaves, plum chutney, lemon pickle, fermented black beans, frozen coconut, and sleeves of naan bread. It takes a village to cook for us.

I finished my recent freezer reorg by cleaning the entire refrigerator—not a life-changing moment, but it did lead to better things. What we needed was a walk-in, what we had was a cheap, flimsy Frigidaire. Each time I cleaned the refrigerator, putting it all back together created unpleasant kitchen drama. The bins cracked and the shelf brackets splintered, leaving the pickle-heavy glass shelves balanced precariously on Super Glued plastic supports. I spent almost $200 on new parts before I bailed and refused to spend one dollar more on that fake-stainless steel piece of junk.

As in the toaster war, finding a puzzle piece to fit in the small nook under the cupboards proved daunting. After much searching, the choice was made by the fit—a Kitchenaid KBLTS5510, the only refrigerator that measured 65 1/2" tall (without the hinge). Fortunately, it's a dream of a frig—bottom freezer, sturdy shelves, strong crispers, and wonder of wonders keeps things cold.




Putting the puzzle that is the kitchen together with a new large appliance required a visit by Bob's brother Norman. We moved the stainless steel shelf that is our pantry into the living room, removed the cupboard (and all the food in it), ripped one inch off the cabinet and the doors, then put the puzzle back together and waited for delivery.

On  the big day, I rewound the entire food move—emptying the chrome shelf and old frig,  filling the living room and kitchen with cans, bottles, and bags. Tucked away in the old freezer was a fine piece of salmon, some linguisa sausage, and three scallops: thus the Portuguese Fish Stew. It's traditionally made with seabass (or some other firm white fish) and mussels but this version rocked our house.

This is more a procedure than a recipe. If you have Italian sausage or even bratwurst—use that. No kale? Use spinach, collard greens, chard or skip it. Got zucchini—that'll work. No mussels or clams? How about frozen shrimp or canned clams. Sweet potatoes instead of Yukons tasted great. Some wine wouldn't hurt either.

Portuguese Fish Stew

2 Tbs. olive oil, plus more for serving
1 tsp. fennel seeds
1/2 tsp. red chili flakes
4 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 medium onion, chopped
1/2 pound linguica or chorizo sausage, sliced in chunks
5 sprigs fresh thyme sprigs, tied together
1 handful fresh oregano, leaves torn from stems
2 bay leaves
1 pound Yukon gold potatoes, diced
1 1/2 quarts chicken broth
1/2 pound kale or cabbage, chopped
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 dozen Littleneck clams or mussels, scrubbed
1/2 pound snapper, cod, or seabass pieces, skin and pin bones removed
1/4 cup coarsely chopped flat-leaf parsley

Heat the oil in a heavy 4 to 6-quart pot over medium flame. Briefly saute fennel seed, chili flakes, and garlic. Add onions and sausage; cook, stirring with wooden spoon, until the sausage renders out some of its fat and the onions are soft. Toss in the herbs and then the potatoes, stir that around for a minute to coat in the oil. Pour in the chicken broth and bring up to a simmer. Add the kale/cabbage or other vegetables, season with salt and pepper. Cover and simmer for 10 minutes until the vegetables are nearly tender.

Uncover the pot and add the mussels or clams; simmer, covered, for 10 minutes until the mussels/clams open. Add the fish and continue to cook for another 3 to 5 minutes until the fish is cooked. Garnish with chopped parsley and drizzle with olive oil.

By the by, Susan Feniger dodged elimination from Top Chef Masters again and lives to compete again next week.