Monday, November 12, 2007

A questionable palate

Guess what's in the glass. C'mon, betcha a million dollars you won't be able to guess what lovely meal is stewed up in that glass before you read any further...

Last night we had salmon for supper. Wild salmon caught in the Japanese Sea. You'll usually have a couple bites of the salmon, maybe some rice. But last night, well, it was a little different.

You began by begging for the onions Dad was sautéing for rice. Okay. So, we gave you half cooked one - and you ate it. And wanted more. So we put a couple more on a plate before closing the lid to cook the rice - and you gobbled those up, too. You even said yummy.

When supper was finally ready, you were excited to sit at the table. At first, you picked at your basmati rice with onions and corn with snow peas. Then I put some salmon on your plate, mixed it with some rice and fed it to you. It was all good until you saw the dish the fish was cooked in. You climbed onto my knee and proceeded to eat no less than the skin of one portion of salmon. Fine. It was silver and shiny, sticky and fatty and the canned varieties come with skin and bones inside. I gagged a little while you ate it - and loved it - but then you just got carried away.


Oh, the joys of watching an artist at work. Creative juices and all.

You had a little shot glass of prune juice - we used the shot glass to make sure you knew it was a 'special' drink - and then you started getting all gourmet. A little rice, then a little salmon, then you'd drink it down. More juice to top it off, then you'd drink it again. Mmmmm. But then you got really fancy and layed the limp snow peas across the glass and sprinkled corn atop your pièce de résistance. Ta da! And there we had the most disgusting thing you've ever eaten - and drank.

Satisfied after her meal. Notice the leftover fish skin in the bottom left of the picture.

But I think that salmon skin had calming properties because you didn't wake up last night at 2ish like you do every night. You didn't wake up until 5:50 a.m. saying, "Morningtime, Mom. Get up. Get up now. Come play toys with Yilya."

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