Page 50 of First Bride to Fall
“Then you divide the fish into two halves by using the tail as a tab to pull back the top layer.” She watched, horrified. This was worse than high school biology. Her gaze stayed glued to the plate as he set that upper portion aside, skin side down.
“Don’t forget to check for bones.” He did and picked out a scattered few from the flesh with his fork prongs. “That was part one.” He met her eyes and grinned.
Nell pursed her lips, admiring his skill but wishing he was teaching a different lesson. Like one on how to best carve a standing rib roast or something. “I’m taking notes.” She forced a smile, and he grinned again, apparently appreciating her rapt attention. If she didn’t focus so hard, she would probably throw up. She’d had a goldfish once. Lots of years ago. It was much smaller, but still. Just the idea.
“Now that the fish is cooked,” he said, “the spine should lift out easily.”
He examined the bottom portion of his fish, prying his fork tines beneath the tip of the nearly intact spine at the tail end. With a lever-like move, he raised the tip of the spine, separating it from the meat and pinching it between this thumb and index finger.
“You grab the end of the spine like this and slowly…peel it back.” When he did, the spine rolled right out of the fish, attached bones and all. “Ta-da!”
OMG, she felt lightheaded. All around her, she saw sparkly stars. But no! She needed to applaud this. Just look at his face. So proud.
She clapped her hands in enthusiastic approval, only stopping once or twice to cover her mouth. “Yay!” She squeezed lemon into her water to help settle her stomach. “Is there a reason you don’t take the bones out first when you clean it?” she asked after taking a sip. That little fish skeleton sat on the side of the plate, just lying there. All bony and whatnot. She added another squeeze of lemon to her water. Then one more.
“Trust me.” He winked, and her skin tingled weirdly. Her stomach was in one great big knot, though. Her throat felt kind of tight, too. “It’s easier this way.” He motioned to her plate. “You’ll need to check both fillets with your fork and pry out any bones that got left behind. Shouldn’t be too many.”
“Ahh, great!” She nodded and stared uncertainly at her plate. At least she had a giant helping of French fries. Maybe she could ask for more, then bury some of the fish under those and extra ketchup. After she’d cut her fish into portions and then slid those around on her plate.
Oooh, but the smell. Grant said it was mild, but so was salmon, according to everyone, and even that made her queasy. When it came to shellfish, forget it. She couldn’t harm a creature that came from the sea. Maybe she could say she was the opposite of a pescatarian? A “landatarian” or something like that? Nell kicked herself for not thinking of this before. Now she was stuck.
He chuckled and switched his plate with hers. “Here, why don’t you take mine?”
Her pulse pounded. His portion was even larger than hers. “Oh no, I couldn’t.”
He grinned. “I insist.”
The big fish taunted her, telling her she had to do this. Whether she wanted to or not. “That’s so nice of you,” she said feebly. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
She added some tartar sauce and lemon to her plate. A couple of squirts of ketchup, too. Then she added more ketchup and tartar sauce. Gobs more. She poked at her fish with her fork, gauging how to tackle it. “Do you eat the skin?”Please say no. That would be seriously gross, like her parents eating whole soft-shell crabs. The barbarians.
“Only if you want to. I do, but it’s a personal thing. Don’t feel I’ll be offended.”
Whew. “Oh! Okay.” She suspected these were fresh fish, which made sense, since this was his fishing cabin. Still, she hadn’t seen any of his fishing gear around the place, but maybe he kept that outdoors in that storage closet he mentioned. “Did you catch these here?”
“Yes, ma’am. Near where we saw that rainbow today.”
“So, they’re rainbow trout,” she teased.
His mouth twitched. “In a manner of speaking.” He helped himself to tartar sauce and lemon, too. “Seriously though, this fish is a type of char, so in the same family as salmon. Tastes like salmon, too, and it’s really good for you. High in omega-3s.”
That sounded healthy enough. Maybe she could stomach this.
She loaded some fish on her fork and added tartar sauce, then squeezed lemon juice on top. Some less-sensitive individuals probably wouldn’t be bothered, but the fish still reeked to her. She held her breath as the forkful grew nearer, and then she quickly shoved it into her mouth. The faster the better so—ooh, no, noooo. Ugh. Ew. When they were kids, Charlotte had had a cat, Ginger. The canned food they gave her reminded Nell a little of… She set down her fork.
Grant watched her expectantly. “Well?”
She chewed deliberately, just in case he’d missed a bone. “Ooh,” she said, running out of air. How long could one woman hold her breath? Maybe longer if she was in shape, but Nell wasn’t. “Mmm, good.” She’d never tell him what she really thought and risk hurting his feelings.
His grin lit up the kitchen. “I’m so glad that you like it. The freezer’s full up.”
Nell swallowed everything in her mouth in one huge gulp, then chased that with a lot of lemon water. “Nice!”
“Yeah. If we were staying here longer, we could have it again.”
She added more tartar sauce to her plate. Lemon, too. “It’s a shame we’re going tomorrow, then.” Ketchup? Where’s the ketchup? Oh, there. She shook-shook-shook some onto her plate, covering her fries and some of the fish. Then she started cutting and moving things around, just like she’d planned. But first, she loaded a few forkfuls of fries into her mouth, because she was basically starving.
