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Saturday, August 8, 2009

es aqui . . . donde vive . . . mi amor

I'm sitting here eating this trout that was still swimming around yesterday afternoon, innocent of the knowledge that my niece Brittany's husband Caleb had designs upon his life. I would have cooked him last night, and almost did at about midnight, but I was afraid of the likelihood of extremely vocal recriminations from the rest of John's family who for some reason find it strange-even inconsiderate!-to fry fish in the middle of the night in a cabin full of people. So I made do with two very filling cups of Abuelita hot chocolate. My verdict: it's okay for vacation, but I still take offense at the taste of cinnamon in my cocoa.

But back to the fish. I tried doing them whole rather than filleting them tonight, because I did such a crap job of it last time, and anyway I've always been fascinated by the pictures of whole fish all fried and hanging out like nothing's wrong. This one time? John and I were in Seattle? And I got some steamers, which came with clams and mussels and shrimps, and all the little shrimps still had their heads on. It seemed really gross, with their little rat eyes staring up at me, so I made John tear all their heads off. I knew he would be good at it because once he killed a crab with a boat oar. Strangely, I've never had difficulty twisting a lobster apart and eating its gooey innards, but I guess the shrimp heads were too unexpected.

The fish is good--his eyes are all melty, which actually is kind of gross, now that you mention it. He left one of his eyes in the baby fryer, which was not cool, but a scrubby sponge will take that right out. He tastes fresh and delicious and if I hadn't promised Superman that I'd save some for him for breakfast the fish would be gone already.
The smaller fish was caught two days ago, and I'm afraid that he has reached the end of his "best by" date, so he's going to go to the garden or something.

Sadly, I just tried to take the lid off an ice cream carton and had extreme difficulty. I'm afraid this may mean that trout is my kryptonite! What an unfortunate turn of events.

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