This whole thing about adapting to the culture, the food, the this and that, can only go so far at times. Take for instance today’s attempt at making fish head soup. The name itself has frightened me away from trying it so far, but the dish does seem to be popular here. One time I even went for dinner at a place that specializes in various kinds of fish head soup. Sadly, at the time, they were sold out.
The local fresh market has a nice selection of fresh fish, including red snapper, tuna, and an assortment of other fishes, even rays. One time I bought a whole tuna and had it cut up, including the head. They slice the head down the middle, between the eyes. I thought I would freeze it and try to make some fish head soup. My next fish purchase was a whole red snapper, again with the head. Today, I decided to defrost the two beastly heads and cook some soup.
It’s a fairly simple recipe: boil the heads, discard all pieces, add vegetables, salt, cook some more. The smell was atrocious. (I don’t get to use that word too often, sorry.) It was awful. I was afraid the neighbors would complain.
Considering all the ingredients I had devoted to this dish, I wanted to give it a chance. So I tried of spoonful of the broth.
My next thought was “Where do I throw this out!”
I salvaged the potatoes and a white carrot-like tuber I bought today, although they are soaked in the awful fish liquid so I may end up throwing them out, as well. The pot with the soup and greens was carried down three flights and dumped in the trash area. The apartment smells much better now.
I’m going with a more Western-traditional grilled pork, baked potato, and cuke and tomato salad.