My Fish Story

I didn't include any pictures with this post, because you can't have a true fish story if you have evidence to back it up. Now, this actually isn't a real "big fish" story in that sense, though I do have a great one from canoeing up in the Canadian National Forest northwest of Quebec. If you ever want to hear it I'd be happy to tell it. Well, okay I'll go ahead and tell that one first.

So for a High Adventure one year we went canoeing in the Canadian National Forest. Probably the most gorgeous patch of land I have ever seen on this earth. While canoeing across a lake to our campsite one night I was trolling a lure along behind the canoe. Well, about half way across the lake my Dad and I started falling way behind the other canoes. I mean the new scouts with toothpicks for arms had even paddled way ahead of us. It took a while for me to figure out why I felt like I was getting so tired rowing while not making much progress, but I figured I'd let out too much line and had snagged my lure on a branch or something that we were dragging along. As I reeled it in, however, the line starting make some pretty sharp moves. Now being a physicist I knew that something had to be moving that line, and branches don't swim. The closer I brought it to the boat the harder it fought, and for the first time in my life I thought my fishing pole was going to snap in two. We were getting to the point where my dad was leaning over the edge of the canoe with the net when this thing swam under the canoe to the other side. Unfortunately, fiberglass canoes have an aluminum rim with an edge on the outer side. That edge combined with the tension in the line snapped the line, and like that it was over. Man I still dream about catching and eating that fish sometimes.

Anyway back to the story I meant to tell. First, you should know that I love fishing, and that I haven't been fishing since before I was married. Nothing taste better than a fish you just caught. The perfect scenario is to already have the fire going at the edge of the lake so that as soon as you pull that rock bass in you can gut it and steam it with butter. Oh man, I'm salivating. Those of you who don't like fish probably have never had really fresh fish. It doesn't smell like fish, it doesn't even taste like fish. It tastes like Heaven. In fact, I rarely eat frozen or storebought fish or even order it at restaurants, because you just can't do better than catching it yourself. Anyway, the second thing you should know is that I have been craving a food from Argentina called milanesas. Can you guess which type of milanesa was my favorite down there? That's right. Fish milanesas. So when my neighbors had some family come back from the lake with too much for their own stomachs, they asked me if I wanted some. Thus, I did the first truly selfish thing of this pregnancy: I accepted.

Now, to be honest the fish had already been on ice for a couple of days. But in Argentina I had ceviche (raw fish) in a town hours from the coast, in the middle of an unpaved street, prepared by a family whose fridge and gas stove were outside so that their tv could be inside out of the rain. If I didn't get sick from that, I figured I wouldn't get sick from this. Plus, once I saw the fish, I knew they were still plenty fresh. Was I excited?!

Poor K. She actually got a glimpse of one while it was sitting in the kitchen. To add to my selfishness I made her go give the kids a bath so I could prepare THE MEAL. How she made it through the night without throwing up I'll never know. Why she spoke to me the next day is another mystery. I married an amazing woman.

The one thing I did remember was how to skin the fish. It's really easy. Like most animals you can eat, you just grab and pull. It comes right off the flesh. Now, filleting and deboning was a whole other adventure. You see, in my scouting days I would usually just cook the whole thing in tinfoil. When it's done you can grab the top of the spine and pull it out with all the bones in one motion leaving two perfectly cooked fillets. But I didn't just want fish. I wanted milanesas.

I had filleted and deboned a fish before, but remember, I've been married for more than five years with no practice. My attempt at removing the meat from the first fish was horrific. The fish itself would have been appalled to know it was butchered in such a manner. Those who regularly fish would shake their heads in shame at how I was wasting the tasty sucker. For the second fish I appealed to the knowledge of the internet and did quite a bit better.

Those milanesas are gone now, but my mouth is still watering thinking of them. Oh! They practically melted in my mouth with a little bit of mayonese on top. Please let someone I know go fishing again. Please.