In Korea, fish is frequently served for lunch. In the three months that I have been in Seoul, I can honestly say that I have eaten more fish than in my 18 months in China (you wouldn't want to eat the fish either if you saw the water it came out of) combined with the 10 years previous to that back home.
Consequently, eating fish at lunch has been quite the adventure, as the fish that's served is not in convenient, pre-filleted portions but rather whole, with essentially just the head and tail whacked off. Lunches has become a lesson in chopstick mastery, whereby I spend my 45 minutes manoeuvering my way through skin, bones and internal organs (sexing the fish along the way) trying to find something that bears semblance to what comes out of a Captain Highliner box. In the end, there is typically little fish left to consume and I have managed to make a mess of myself, the table, and one (if not all) of the Korean teachers at my table. You're laughing, but seriously, try dissecting anything with chopsticks just once, and you'll have a better appreciation for this story...
Today was different. Today was a defining moment in my lunchtime, fish- eating career. I managed to peel back the skin, remove whole rows of bones, and lift off perfect fillets in record time and without making any enemies at my table (other than the poor little fish). I even earned an approving nod from the Korean teacher that I noticed was overseeing the entire process. I know she was thinking, "Finally. Now I can go back to wearing my dry-clean only clothes and still sit with Kelly at lunch."
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A slightly (un)related lunchtime fish story: Without fail, when fish is served for lunch, someone at my table will ask me, "What is the name of this fish in English?" As I sit staring at my fish, it take every iota of energy I have not to be a smart-ass and respond, "Mabel".
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Recently Updated...03.25 - Two posts! About Me...Out and about in the world, teaching others and educating myself. Stuff I Like...Traveling. Cuddling a cat. New toothbrushes. Friends. Socks of the Joanne Younes variety. The smell of sun-dried laundry. Baking. Archives
March 2008
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