Catch, clean and cook
Go ahead, tell me that it’s really tasty. I don’t believe you. I come from a land where anything from the sea goes through three distinct processes; catch, clean and cook. Now I live in a city that thinks it’s “turning Japanese” like some bad pop tune from 1980. What’s my beef? Sushi
A good cod fillet, fried in butter. A fresh brook trout, fried in butter. Mackerel, fried in butter. There’s a pattern here. That’s why I have a hard time with this new wave of supermarket fast foods. This new business model of restaurants that only want to sell raw fish. One of them has opened about four minutes away from the office, displacing a perfectly useful submarine sandwich counter. Another has opened about six minutes away from the office. What’s the deal? Do you eat at one and then need to eat again two minutes later. It’s worse than Chinese.
Go ahead, tell me it’s actually good for me. So is a salad. Tell me I need more rice rolled up in seaweed. I know exactly what ocean side has more than enough of those greens (and reds; I used to work for a phycologist). Admit that you are only interested in the wasabi – I saw the movie.
I can understand why the Japanese, with the shortage of firewood and too many paper walls might need to eat raw food, but we can afford to cut down a few spruce trees in the search for a broiled salmon or two. No sushi need apply.
Oh, and just to set the record straight: I saw the truck dropping off a big frozen carcass yesterday. There were no fins or tail to give away the identity. This is a generic fish stick.
