Baked Cod Provencal

This is a really easy way to add some wonderful flavor to the mild taste of baked cod.  I leave a little more liquid from the tomatoes in the skillet and let it cook down.  I like the extra moisture in the sauce, especially with the rice.  This is quick, easy, and tastes like you ordered it in a fine restaurant.

Baked Cod Provencal

1 Pound Cod Fillets

1 Medium Onion, Diced or in Rings

2 Small Cans of Diced Tomatoes (Mostly Drained)

1/4 Green Pepper, Diced

2 Teaspoons Capers

1/4 Cup Fresh Basil, Chopped

12 Various Olives, Pitted and Halved

1 Tablespoon Fresh Lemon Juice

2 Teaspoons Italian Seasoning

Preheat oven to 450 degrees.

Wick moisture from the cod fillets on a paper towel.  Salt and pepper the fillets on both sides and set aside.

In a skillet, sauté onions in a small amount of olive oil.  Add green pepper and continue sautéing.  Add diced tomatoes with some of the liquid, capers, olives, lemon juice, and Italian seasoning.  Simmer for 5-10 minutes adding fresh basil toward the end.

Spoon half the mixture in the bottom of a 6 by 10 inch baking dish.  Place the seasoned cod fillets on top of the mixture in the baking dish, then add the remainder of the sautéed mixture on top of the cod fillets.

Bake uncovered for 20 minutes.

Serve fillets over long grain and wild rice, spooning additional tomato mixture over the fillets and rice.  Garnish with lemon wedges.

Lance Armstrong is No Champion

“There will always be someone to champion the cause
of the obviously guilty.”

So why continue harping on Lance Armstrong?  Because the term “cheating” doesn’t even come close to defining the damage he has done and continues to do.  He is a thief.  And the fact that he stole the yellow jersey seven times in France is only a small part of the theft.  The actual winner of those races was the first person to cross the finish line who had not tried to “level the field.”  And who were those people?  Nobody knows.  Nobody knows because Lance Armstrong not only stole the spotlight, he also stole their identities.  He took their place on the podium, their accolades, their endorsements, and the money that follows.

He spit in the face of cycling—the sport he claimed to love—with an elaborate, conspiratorial, and systematic self-elevation scheme that heavily tipped the scales in his favor while rigorously repeating his mantra of "deny, deny, deny."

Everything Lance Armstrong does is meticulously calculated to benefit Lance Armstrong.  He struck a deal for a self-serving interview with a TV personality that was more an attempt to commute his life-long ban from competitive sports and elicit some modicum of sympathy rather than come clean.  His performance was coached, choreographed, and practiced to mitigate his guilt, yet he was unable to produce a single tear or show real remorse.  Let’s be clear.  Admissions are not confessions.  And partial admissions to a talk show host cannot substitute for truthfully answering questions from the governing body of the cycling world that has so much to ask.

And to those battling cancer who trusted and found inspiration until the alarm bell was too loud to explain or ignore, he has stolen a piece of their souls with the realization that they should have chosen a better hero.