COVID-19 statistics. Debates. Trump’s antics while he was at Walter Reed Hospital. Stimulus talks. The number of virus infections inside the White House. The attempted kidnapping of a governor. Racial tensions.
It’s as if we’re trapped in an endless tunnel with no light at the end yet. Thus, this week I’m going to forgo discussing all depressing events and take a lighter look at things, and I’m going to do this from time to time to preserve my own sanity. Therefore, welcome to “On The Lighter Side.”
I am not much of a seafood connoisseur. I mean I can eat an occasional piece of fish from Long John’s (Is that real fish, or is it just breaded, congealed fat?), and where we used to vacation at the beach, there was a little fish hut nearby. The place always had fresh flounder, and my wife would throw a few breadcrumbs on it and fry it in butter. Now THAT was good fish. And I don’t mind fresh shrimp if there’s enough hot sauce, and I also can eat a lobster tail provided that it’s floating in a sea of butter. That’s about the extent of my “love” for seafood.
Oysters and clams always look slimy to me. But the one that really gets me is calamari, which often is served as an appetizer before lunch or dinner. If someone at my table orders it, I surreptitiously keep glancing for a dramatic change in the person’s face, when one of those tentacles attaches itself to the inside of the cheek and pulls it in toward the teeth. No, I’ll pass on the calamari, thank you.
But let’s get back to fish, the main subject of this little essay. Plain old fish. Has it ever occurred to you that fish is unlike any other food in that many people (including me) don’t care for it if it tastes like itself. Think about this! How often have you been in a restaurant with someone who peruses the menu and finds catfish listed among the entrees.
When the server approaches the table to take orders, the conversation may go something this.
Server: “What may I get for you this evening?”
Diner: “I think I’ll try the catfish.”
Server: “Very well. Coming right up.”
Diner: “Hold on a minute!Is it fishy?”
Server: “I beg your pardon?
Diner: “The catfish. Does it taste fishy?
Server: “Well, it is a member of the fish family, and so I would presume that it would taste somewhat like fish.”
Diner: “Well I would really like to have it, but I don’t want it if it tastes too fishy.”
Can you think of any other instance in which someone ordering food expresses the desire that it not taste the way its name implies it does?
I’ve never heard anyone say, “I don’t want the prime rib if it tastes too beefy.”
Or, “I hope the pork roast isn’t too porky.”
Or, “I won’t eat the chicken if it’s too chickeny.”
Or, “A friend told me not to order ham in this place because it’s just too hammy. Can you think anything worse?”
Is there a lesson in all of this? Absolutely not. It’s just an observation concerning something you may not have thought about before.
Perhaps a restaurant could prevent a conversation like the aforementioned by having a disclaimer on the menu: “Catfish that doesn’t taste like fish — $15.”
But I guarantee that some people reading an item like that definitely would think there was something fishy about it.
Even a fish can stay out of trouble if it keeps its mouth shut.
–Anonymous
