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Eleanor made a fish dinner last night. It's not a meatless Friday thing by any means- early in our years together, she shied away from serving fish on Fridays due to bad memories of her mother's weekly Friday Fish Burns- but as those have faded, the quality of the fish has gotten much better, both in the package and in her hands.
This one's an old reliable- tilapia, baked with sauce, roasted pepper and prosciutto, served this time with roasted small potatoes and broccolini. Om noms were had. Then, this morning, after filling and replacing an ice tray, I saw the back of the fish package still in the freezer:
Not to be too insensitive to the sensitivies of the hyperallergic here, but unlike hidden nuts in a candy bar, say, I'd hope that folks with fish allergies would know to stay away from, you know, FISH.
On the other hand, there does appear to be one warning label missing:
Sherlockians: Contains no shit.
----
Off to consort with overenthusiastic Methodists for an entire day. Forget speaking in tongues; I'll be spending most of the time holding mine.
This one's an old reliable- tilapia, baked with sauce, roasted pepper and prosciutto, served this time with roasted small potatoes and broccolini. Om noms were had. Then, this morning, after filling and replacing an ice tray, I saw the back of the fish package still in the freezer:
Not to be too insensitive to the sensitivies of the hyperallergic here, but unlike hidden nuts in a candy bar, say, I'd hope that folks with fish allergies would know to stay away from, you know, FISH.
On the other hand, there does appear to be one warning label missing:
Sherlockians: Contains no shit.
----
Off to consort with overenthusiastic Methodists for an entire day. Forget speaking in tongues; I'll be spending most of the time holding mine.