Text 8954, 74 rader
Skriven 2006-12-17 22:45:00 av JIM WELLER (1:123/140)
     Kommentar till en text av DALE SHIPP
Ärende: Another Simon story pt 3
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The experiment with broiling some Albie was just as bad.  Again, the
heat caused both blood and fish oil to disgorge from the flesh.  The
smell was so strong I worried we might have to take the broiler oven out
to sea and sink it.

What surprised me most of all was that the taste was exactly as bad as
all those fishermen had described.  WHOA!!!  Ack!  Ptooooooey!
Gag-arocious.  I eat all and enjoy all the fish that Americans describe
as "too fishy" tasting, and I like them.  But this Albie was Fishy Times
100, Fishy On Steroids.  If one can imagine what The Fish of Doom might
taste like, well...  that's it, exactly.

As other people in the house woke up, in distress and asking "What's
that smell????", the story of The Fish of Doom was retold, the
circumstances explained again.  A sample tasting invited and encouraged.
More than one person ran right back upstairs in search of mouthwash
after tasting a small morsel of Albie; then came back downstairs to make
a colorful speech about never eating fish again.

Meanwhile...  I'd neglected to call the Noisy Boys or send anyone to
tell them to STOP trying to catch these Albies.  And I didn't remember
to do so until I saw them coming up over the dunes carrying their rods
and tackle, very heavy, very filled fish cooler, and Kieu and Dang
carrying a long broken rake handle between them; the rake handle was
well bent in the middle and had Albies hanging from it from one end to
the other.  Not a very American way to transport the catch but...  in
the absence of bamboo fish baskets, my guys knew to just shove the
broken tip of the handle through one gill slit and out the mouth till
the fish were strung like pearls.

In other words, we had "Vast Quantities" of a big meaty handsome
inedible fish.  My guys wouldn't believe me about how appalling these
Albies were, not until I pan-seared and broiled two more filets for them
to taste.  Then we repeated the whole sequence of spitting it out,
grabbing the mouthwash, and then expressions of shock that any fish
could taste so very bad.  We reviewed all the different ways we know to
prepare and cook fish, both American and Viet, and couldn't imagine any
way of making these things edible.  The guys were Xtremely annoyed,
given the work involved in catching and fighting these things, the cost
in lost tackle and lost opportunities to take other fish, the hopes
they'd had of telling people they caught tuna from the beach.  And while
we were discussing that, the fish cooler filled and began to overflow
with Albie blood.  And blood was pooling on the ground beneath the rake
handle draped with fish bodies.  On several sites, people described the
fish as a "god awful bloody mess," and it was so.  Fish of Doom, indeed.

So, no tuna sashimi, no tartare, no steaks, no filets, no smoked tuna.
We decided instead to do as fishing sites suggested, and turn the Albies
into bait chunks.  Which required several of us to spend much of
Saturday out in the yard with the kitchen machete, cleavers, with aprons
and faces and arms and hands all soaked in blood.  By the time we were
done, the yard was a god awful bloody mess.  Von and his brother were
given the task of taking buckets of entrails and tails and chopped heads
up over the dunes to dump for the crabs and gulls, and Doom Boy really
enjoyed that part.  Eating these nasty fish, he said, would turn the
crabs into The Crabs of Doom.

We now all have freezers filled up with bait for 2007, and I hope that
we can find *something* that wants to eat some Albie.  And I've learned
to not get my hopes up so easily, and that when 99% of the people say
"Do NOT Put That In Your Mouth," they're probably right...  -simon


Cheers

Jim, in Yellowknife




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