My grandmother and I were leaving the house and she realized she had forgotten to buy dinner and seeing it was ten to eight, she asked me if I would run to the market stall for a few pieces of fish.
She opened her pocketbook but didn't have enough money so I told her not to worry that I would pay for it and she could pay me back.
There were two fishmongers at the end of the market stalls and I had remembered the one at the far side was much better, so I passed up the closer one (which hadn't a single customer in) and went to other stall.
When I got there it was packed with a line out the door but hardly any fish worth buying remained on the racks floating in melted ice.
Returning to the other stand, there was an attractive young woman cutting some fish who greeted me with a foreign accent.
Looking around, I was impressed by the wide variety of beautifully displayed fish laid out in racks in fresh shaved ice and hanging from the ceiling on suspended rods, reminding me of the food hall at Harrod's in London.
I asked the woman for four pieces of white fish and she replied by asking me what kind of white fish I would like.
I had to tell her that I had been a vegetarian for nearly 25 years and I honestly couldn't tell her what kind of white fish my grandmother would have wanted, so she took me around the shop explaining each type of fish.
I finally settled on one and she asked me if I'd like it marinated in spices, herbs and a tomato vinaigrette, to which I kindly agreed.
Meanwhile, she continued taking me around the shop stopping suddenly and exclaiming, "why didn't I think to offer you the lubina, It came in fresh today."
She held up a piece of the lubina and commented that perhaps it wouldn't have been a good choice as these came in with hundreds of tiny seashells embedded in the fillets and that while they were edible, one who is not accustomed to eating a "crunchy" fish filet might be taken aback.
Suddenly, I realized that we had been walking around chatting for some time and I was certain that the fish she had been preparing for my grandmother would be burnt to a crisp, but when we arrived back at the place where the woman was preparing the fish, the fillets were perfectly grilled and ready to go.
I asked her much it would be to whcih she replied, "seven cents."
Then I woke up.
*Originally manifested on October 8, 2014.
Comments