fishy tales

I'm back to spending an hour every morning behind my jalopy, cursing and gesticulating wildly at BMW drivers, so forgive my foul mood.

Today, I went to the fishmongers. I was on a mission from cod (ooh, that was below the belt, sorry!)

I like the fishmongers and I prepare well for my visit, packing a cooler bag with ice packs. Well, my 'catch' has to lurk about my car boot for five hours before it finds my fridge.

I am quite conservative when it comes to buying fish. Although I love all seafood and will try almost anything, I'm a creature of habit when it come to buying our seafaring friends. Haddock, salmon, mackerel and sea bass are as adventurous as I got today.

I'm also a 'pointer' rather than a 'handler' unlike the Chinese couple who were handling every fish, closely smelling them and generally picking them up with the confidence of Captain Bird's Eye. At one point I thought they might start juggling with the squid - it wouldn't have looked out of plaice (oh, there I go again!)

A visit to the fishmongers does, however, make me feel like a proper 'foodie' - no Tesco pretend fish counter for me. I am truly a connoisseur of fine comestibles.

Anyway, less writey, more cookey, I'm making dinner tonight. It's chicken.

Regards

Rick Stein