Fish Fry

We fried things last night. Fish and potatoes. Lovely. The fish was cod, cut into bits, dredged in mustard then cornmeal and panko. The potatoes were Idaho, sliced on a mandolin to paper thin sheets, soaked in ice and water, then dried and fried. My host had two fryers with clean oil for each. We started the meal with a heaping helping of cold shrimp dipped in an array of sauces. Lovely, again.

We had this feast because the wife of my host is allergic to shellfish. But she is out of town listening to music so we made the most of our opportunity. Originally, it was going to be the two of us, but his son’s family came with three kids and they brought a family of two, and if we’d done a time-lapse of how fast the food went down it would have made people laugh. A few pictures were probably taken and sent to his wife, but there was no videography to my knowledge.

I met the family in question because of a shared affinity for the music of Walt Wilkins. In the years immediately following the death of my wife, they flung their doors open, invited me in to feed my body and soul. They even took me on trips and introduced me to new friends. Now, when I come to their house, I no longer have to knock, the dog is excited to see me, and I have to get my own drinks because I’m “family.” In my times of trouble they were exactly what I needed, and I hope everyone has that sort of luck when life’s blows fall hard and hope grows dim.