I may have mentioned this before, but there are two main western-orientated grocery stores we go to in Jakarta — Kemchicks, which is moderately inconvenient and Ranch Market which is just plain inconvenient.
S really likes the fish in Ranch — and I agree it is great, but Kemchicks is a lot closer and, I find, a little cheaper. It also has a lot better range of veggies.
Anyway, today I went off to do a big shop and S had asked for me to filtrer some fishies into the menu over the next week as she’d like to eat fish twice a week.
No problem thought I, knowing that while the fish range at Kemchicks isn’t as good, it is still more than edible, so I figured I’d just get some fish there.
That was Mistake One.
I got two sets of fish — some salmon fillets which I plan to make into a Salmon Baked in Mustard dish and a couple of white fish fillets which I planned to cook into a French White Fish and Artichoke thing tonight.
What kind of white fish? you ask – I don’t know.
That was Mistake Two.
So I get a call from S around 18:00, she’s leaving work shortly and could dinner be ready when she gets home as she’s really hungry and would like to eat then sleep as she has to get back up at midnight to file on executed Christians stuff.
OK no problem.
So I cook up the dish and it’s just ok – nothing great — I wouldn’t cook it again.
That was Mistake Three.
So when I lay it out in front of S, aside from commenting on the aroma (the artichoke gives it a pungent aniseed flavour), the first thing S asks is:
“What kind of fish is it?”
Now if I’d bothered to find out, or quick enough to “improvise” (ie., lie), then I could have answered and neatly sidestepped the question of where I purchased the fish, by swinging onto some long and conveluted story about the history of Trevally, but as I didn’t have a clue, I just said:
“I dunno”
Busted.
While S didn’t actually ask me where I bought the fish, she knows I was a lazy clutz who went to the closer store, where the fish comes in hermetically sealed plastic trays with no sign of scales nor guts nor life nor taste…
I promise I’ll go to Ranch next time loverrrrr!