A little while ago, the Mild Fiancée and I decided that we wanted fish for breakfast. Specifically, we wanted to make a poke bowl of some sort. It's not the sort of breakfast we have that often, but on this particular day, we had a craving for fish and rice. A poke bowl seemed like a good way to satisfy that craving.
Now, we were up early enough that many of the actual places that serve this sort of food weren't open yet. It wasn't a ridiculous hour or anything, but usually you have to wait until closer to ten or eleven in the morning for restaurants like that to open. You can't exactly have a twenty four hour poke shop (the fish/seafood would go bad).
That left us with one option if we wanted to satisfy our craving: we had to make our own. Luckily, the dish itself can be pretty simple. At its core, it boils down to fish, rice, and soy sauce. It's up to you how much or how little to top it with, and we weren't looking for a gourmet version by any stretch of the imagination.
We didn't have any fish or soy sauce handy, though, so we took a quick walk down to the nearest grocery store. We picked out a piece of tuna fit for both of us. Seafood can get a bit expensive, so we intentionally picked out no more than we needed. I also noticed that the label said "previously frozen," but since it looked fresh and we were going to consume it in less than hour, we weren't too concerned about it. Remember, we weren't trying to win Michelin stars. We just wanted fish and rice in our food.
So, the guy behind the counter wrapped up our fish and handed it to us. He used that brown paper that they wrap most meat and seafood in, and we threw it in to our basket content that we were done with our shopping (that detail will be tangentially relevant down the road). We sauntered over to the check out aisle to pay for our items, eager to bring our groceries home so we could eat. That's when the fun started.
For some reason, the lady at the check out was miffed about the smell of the fish. This is where two small details I mentioned earlier come into play: it was wrapped in paper, and we had literally just gotten it from the seafood section. I know I don't have the best sense of smell in the world, but I'm pretty sure I could tell if the seafood was rotten. Nope, no such smell. It smelled like, well, fish. That's what fish is supposed to smell like.
I also know for a fact that the Mild Fiancée has a nose like a blood hound. She once came home, and picked out what ingredients her roommates had used to bake scones by smell alone. Let me be clear: she opened the door, took a whiff, and declared that her roommates had made two types of scones. One had fruit in it, and she then took a second whiff to determine that they had used dried berries for one of the two scones. The roommates' jaws, much like mine, hit the floor when she did that. Suffice it to say that I don't worry about her missing a smell.
So, I didn't smell anything wrong with the fish, and the Mild Fiancée definitely didn't smell anything wrong with the fish. As best as I could tell, that's how the fish was supposed to smell. It wasn't like the paper was wrapped incorrectly or anything, either. Sure, you could tell that there was fish on the conveyor belt, but what she expect it to smell like? Apples?
Better yet, she wouldn't stop mentioning it. I think she must've remarked on the fact that it smelled like fish at least three times. I suspect she's never actually cooked any kind of fish, she's only ever eaten it once it's been seasoned and prepared for her. It sure looks and smells different then, and if that's all she knew, then I would at least understand her confusion. At one point, she even looked like she was going to gag.
I didn't make a scene or anything, but as soon as we left, the Mild Fiancée had a good chuckle. Apparently, seafood is supposed to smell like puppies and rainbows before you prepare it. One of you should figure out how to do that, and then sell that. I know someone who'd buy your products in a heart beat.
Now, we were up early enough that many of the actual places that serve this sort of food weren't open yet. It wasn't a ridiculous hour or anything, but usually you have to wait until closer to ten or eleven in the morning for restaurants like that to open. You can't exactly have a twenty four hour poke shop (the fish/seafood would go bad).
That left us with one option if we wanted to satisfy our craving: we had to make our own. Luckily, the dish itself can be pretty simple. At its core, it boils down to fish, rice, and soy sauce. It's up to you how much or how little to top it with, and we weren't looking for a gourmet version by any stretch of the imagination.
We didn't have any fish or soy sauce handy, though, so we took a quick walk down to the nearest grocery store. We picked out a piece of tuna fit for both of us. Seafood can get a bit expensive, so we intentionally picked out no more than we needed. I also noticed that the label said "previously frozen," but since it looked fresh and we were going to consume it in less than hour, we weren't too concerned about it. Remember, we weren't trying to win Michelin stars. We just wanted fish and rice in our food.
So, the guy behind the counter wrapped up our fish and handed it to us. He used that brown paper that they wrap most meat and seafood in, and we threw it in to our basket content that we were done with our shopping (that detail will be tangentially relevant down the road). We sauntered over to the check out aisle to pay for our items, eager to bring our groceries home so we could eat. That's when the fun started.
For some reason, the lady at the check out was miffed about the smell of the fish. This is where two small details I mentioned earlier come into play: it was wrapped in paper, and we had literally just gotten it from the seafood section. I know I don't have the best sense of smell in the world, but I'm pretty sure I could tell if the seafood was rotten. Nope, no such smell. It smelled like, well, fish. That's what fish is supposed to smell like.
I also know for a fact that the Mild Fiancée has a nose like a blood hound. She once came home, and picked out what ingredients her roommates had used to bake scones by smell alone. Let me be clear: she opened the door, took a whiff, and declared that her roommates had made two types of scones. One had fruit in it, and she then took a second whiff to determine that they had used dried berries for one of the two scones. The roommates' jaws, much like mine, hit the floor when she did that. Suffice it to say that I don't worry about her missing a smell.
So, I didn't smell anything wrong with the fish, and the Mild Fiancée definitely didn't smell anything wrong with the fish. As best as I could tell, that's how the fish was supposed to smell. It wasn't like the paper was wrapped incorrectly or anything, either. Sure, you could tell that there was fish on the conveyor belt, but what she expect it to smell like? Apples?
Better yet, she wouldn't stop mentioning it. I think she must've remarked on the fact that it smelled like fish at least three times. I suspect she's never actually cooked any kind of fish, she's only ever eaten it once it's been seasoned and prepared for her. It sure looks and smells different then, and if that's all she knew, then I would at least understand her confusion. At one point, she even looked like she was going to gag.
I didn't make a scene or anything, but as soon as we left, the Mild Fiancée had a good chuckle. Apparently, seafood is supposed to smell like puppies and rainbows before you prepare it. One of you should figure out how to do that, and then sell that. I know someone who'd buy your products in a heart beat.
Comments
Post a Comment