Cod

Cod, my friend, is a lean fish, and lean means honest — it has almost no fat to hide behind, so every mistake you make shows up on the plate immediately. That leanness is why cod turns from silk to sawdust so fast in the pan: the moment you look away, it goes from moist to dry right in front of you. Choose it by the flesh, not the label. Good cod is pale, almost translucent at the edges, firm enough to hold its own shape, and it should smell of the sea — clean, mineral, nothing sharp or sour. Press it with a finger: it should spring back, not sink and stay.

Some people say cod is a "safe" fish, hard to ruin. No! It forgives almost nothing, and a minute too long on the heat is all it takes. That misconception leads straight to the dry, chalky cod so many kitchens serve — cooked until the flakes turn stringy and dull, instead of staying moist and just beginning to part. Watch the color, not the clock. The moment it turns from glassy to matte white, pull it off the heat.