- Those of you who know me know that I simply hate fish. Even fish that you are convinced does not taste like fish.In fact, especially fish that you are convinced does not taste like fish. A childhood in Japan was, according to family folklore, responsible for this. Some people simply can’t believe that I have survived to adulthood without extensive fishy feasting . I, on the other hand have had no problem, despite some near escapes.
- When I was eighteen I went to work in a pottery high up in the mountains above Tokyo. Though there were lots of women around and about, I was the only western woman in our particular workshop, plus I had fair curly hair, blue eyes, smoked roll ups, laughed like a drain, and shock horror did not, nor did I particularly want, a husband. But the most astonishing fact about me and one that resulted in minor celebrity status was that I did not eat fish. Even the person who ran the local supermarket who didn’t even know my name, knew that I was the strange fishless foreigner in town
- The day before I was due to leave the pottery to return to Tokyo, everyone got together and threw me a farewell dinner.To avoid upset ( and any embarrassment on part of my hosts who were the most lovely people on this earth) I had already told a white lie on arrival , in that if I ate fish I would be taken very ill and would most probably have to be rushed to hospital. And so the meal started. Alarmingly no water in sight, only bottles of sake and because I was the guest of honour all eyes were upon me and every single time I put my glass down it was immediately re filled.
- First course. One ( beautiful) bowl containing a raw egg. Much whisking and gulping of sake
- Second course . Hot steaming seaweed on bed of rice . All I can say is that seaweed is more fishy than fish. More gulping of sake
- Third course. Something in a shell..snail? Slug?Slimy sea cucumber? It doesn’t look like a fish. Get a grip. More sake
- Fourth course. Imagine long rashers of bacon rind without the bacon.Lack of cutlery made it impossible to cut in half to avoid gagging, coughing, spluttering. Emergency sake
- Fifth course Prawns.No comment though to be fair they don’t look like fish, though that’s the extent of my compliment. By this time I was past speech and my mouth had gone numb on account of excessive sake, which was just as well
- Sixth course. bean paste cakes. I was almost out of the woods . Imagine chewing blu tac except it’s a pretty colour. More sake. Because it was there
- Then for reasons that escape me I got everyone to do a conga around the room and then sang the National Anthem while standing on ( and then falling off) the table
- Isn’t it funny how we have such firm ideas about what we like to eat and what we don’t? When I was pregnant and very sick, my appetite lost its way and there was very little I could face eating. In a weird and most unlike me way I became almost frightened of food, the smells and the very thought of it . Usually I drink numerous cups of Earl Grey tea throughout the day interspersed with coffee, but in those days even thinking about putting the kettle on was enough to send me out of the door and the sight of a teapot threw me into a nauseous panic. All the usual things like cheese, pasta, avocados, hummus, pickled onions, chutney, bread went out of the window, and my poor long suffering partner had to be ready at any moment to rush off and get me my latest craving .. custard, a pork chop, white rice..usually by the time he had returned I would no longer want it. In despair he once asked me if there was anything I did actually imagining being able to eat without being profusely sick. “Earth” I replied. Wisely he didn’t go and dig up the garden, preferring to wait until I moved on to more sensible items like pineapple chunks or leather.
- Things returned to normal after each of my three births, when the first thing I asked for afterwards was a nice cup of tea. Followed by a cheese sandwich.With a gherkin.
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