Dreams of Retaliation in a Basement Kitchen

For those of you who don't know, Mookie's Food Odyssey was born, in part, out of a longing for a better kitchen. I don't have a traditional oven and I plug my stove range into the wall. I knew this, of course, when I chose to move in, and I was also aware I'd be living below my landlord. What I didn't know was that she and her daughter–and now a young male cousin–would be so loud. They yell in the morning. After school and work they bound up the stairs. They often forget to turn on the heat and when they do remember, the stale smell of their leftovers wafts through their vents into my apartment. This stinks most when I'm trying to go to sleep. 

This morning, I woke up to the usual noises and pondered how I might respond in the kitchen. How might they smell me?

Aha! Copied below is a recipe for Bob Blumer's dishwasher salmon. Also, check out Tom Scott's instructional video.

Ingredients
1 tablespoon olive oil
4 6-ounce pieces salmon fillet
¼ cup fresh lime juice
kosher salt and black pepper
1 lemon, cut into wedges
heavy-duty foil

(1) Grease the shiny side of two 12-inch squares of heavy-duty foil with the oil. Place 2 pieces of fish side by side on each square. Fold up the outer edges of the foil (to contain any liquid) and drizzle the fish with the lime juice. Season with salt and pepper.

(2) Fold the foil closed to form 2 airtight packets. (To test the seal, press down on a packet gently with your hand. If air escapes easily, rewrap.

(3) Place the packets in the top rack of the dishwasher. Run a normal cycle. Remove the 
fish from the foil and serve with the lemon wedges.

Serves four: Me, landlord, daughter, and nephew. Score!

***

Sadly, I can't make the recipe this morning because I have neither fish nor dishwasher. But, I do have a crock pot and one day soon I will slow-cook tilapia. And no, as much I'd like the landlord to find me formidable–like the Godfather–I won't leave a dead fish on her doorstep. 

Instead, I'll share my home-cooked meal with her! Where I come from, even the most unreachable person can be reasoned with on a full stomach.

My question is: does my landlord even like tilapia?

More importantly, is she willing to don these ridiculous fish slippers when she stomps toward her own decked-out kitchen? 

I hope so. It'd sure make my morning.  

-MDB