I rarely eat fish in restaurants unless I know that they will not ruin it by over-cooking or killing the delicate flavours in sickening sauces. But last night out at a restaurant where they really should know better, certainly if the prices they charged were an indication (see under wounded bulls), I suffered yet again another plate of rubbery substance, well overcooked and equally well covered in a sauce that totally killed any taste that might have remained in the afore-mentioned white mass that once was fish.
When the waiter, spying the virtually untouched meal before me, enquired whether there was a problem with the fish, all I could think of to reply was that I was not drunk enough to eat it, and if I was drunk enough I would probably throw it at the cook who was by the horrible evidence in front of me certainly not a chef.
Then today I spied this quote lurking about waiting for me to come upon it, in the 990+ quotes on things fishy on my web site:
“They used to have a fish on the menu that was smoked, grilled and peppered. They did everything to this fish but pistol-whip it and dress it in Bermuda shorts.” - William E. Geist
Well said!
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