After accepting an invitation to join our beloved friends and their kids on the beach for a weekend getaway, I realized (GADS) that I would be required to put on a bathing suit AND wear it IN PUBLIC. Mind you, after three kids and 42 (almost 43) years, my body just ain't what it used to be. Long gone are the days that my brother's friends thought I was "hot". Even with a pool in our backyard, I have only donned my six year old swimsuit twice this year, and only in front of my boys and husband (and dogs).
My friend had great advice "Everyone will be having so much fun they won't care what you look like". I'm sure she's right, I just don't want the whales to get too close to shore and make that sad, low sound, trying to call me back into the deep, blue water, far away from shore....
So, Tuesday night, for the second time in our married life, I made FISH. Tilapia to be exact. And Mike excused himself from dinner and ate cow.
You might think I'd be bitter about this, but I'm not, based on the first time I insisted we eat fish together, to which he thoughtfully replied, "Honey, I don't eat fish. EVER." Being newlywed, an eternal optimist and an aspiring part-time chef, I thought I could win him over with a great white sauce and a cute dress, thus overcoming his chief complaint: "fishy taste".
The first bite was great! Mike "loved the sauce" and didn't remember the "texture of fish being this good". I was victorious! And was already going through my mental Rolodex of fish recipes clipped from magazines past*. My dreams of fish baking, frying, sauting, and blackening came to a screeching halt when I looked across the table and saw my sweetie pie SPITTING HIS FISH INTO HIS NAPKIN. AFTER THE FIRST BITE!
What had happened? Had I veered from the recipe? Too much pepper? Too much wine?
Too much fish, it turned out.
So, in making tilapia last night, I was working to influence a second generation of Nowells to embrace fish. Thankfully, this time, I won over two of three (and, quite possibly, the dog that the other one fed.)
Happily, my quest for a "new" body by July 31st had started...with fish.
*Incidentally, a real OCD problem for me. If you need to know how to braise calf brain, I've got the recipe clipped.....
My friend had great advice "Everyone will be having so much fun they won't care what you look like". I'm sure she's right, I just don't want the whales to get too close to shore and make that sad, low sound, trying to call me back into the deep, blue water, far away from shore....
So, Tuesday night, for the second time in our married life, I made FISH. Tilapia to be exact. And Mike excused himself from dinner and ate cow.
You might think I'd be bitter about this, but I'm not, based on the first time I insisted we eat fish together, to which he thoughtfully replied, "Honey, I don't eat fish. EVER." Being newlywed, an eternal optimist and an aspiring part-time chef, I thought I could win him over with a great white sauce and a cute dress, thus overcoming his chief complaint: "fishy taste".
The first bite was great! Mike "loved the sauce" and didn't remember the "texture of fish being this good". I was victorious! And was already going through my mental Rolodex of fish recipes clipped from magazines past*. My dreams of fish baking, frying, sauting, and blackening came to a screeching halt when I looked across the table and saw my sweetie pie SPITTING HIS FISH INTO HIS NAPKIN. AFTER THE FIRST BITE!
What had happened? Had I veered from the recipe? Too much pepper? Too much wine?
Too much fish, it turned out.
So, in making tilapia last night, I was working to influence a second generation of Nowells to embrace fish. Thankfully, this time, I won over two of three (and, quite possibly, the dog that the other one fed.)
Happily, my quest for a "new" body by July 31st had started...with fish.
*Incidentally, a real OCD problem for me. If you need to know how to braise calf brain, I've got the recipe clipped.....
We had fish tacos last night at our neighbors' house. Great sauce! And I didn't spit anything out. I like Red Lobster and loved the seafood places we sampled in Corpus and Clearwater. I'm a fan of fish. Mike, my brother, you know not what you're missing out on!
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