Fish Head

Nope. Not a recipe blog.

It does have a background story with long paragraphs (I think!) but definitely no recipe. If you’re looking for one, keep looking! Let me know when you find one.

Also, the picture above is related-unrelated.

The thought process for this blog starts in San Diego, year 2022. The above picture is from San Diego, 2019. It has a seal. Seals like fish. I assume they like every part of fish, head and all, much unlike me. Keep me away from the head and the tail folks! Too weird! Hence, the image of the seal. Well…connect my thought-dots as best as you can.

Anywho…here’s what happened.

When we went to SD last year (a day by day itinerary on my IG account. Take a look there), Mr. A, in a grand-chef type inspiration, wanted to take advantage of the close vicinity of the sea and cook some fresh fish. Now, if after hearing this, you have this mental image of a tall, brown and handsome man with one leg on the bow of a fishing boat, guiding the men and the boat through the roaring chasm of the ocean to catch the freshest haul of the day to bring back for his family back home….absolutely discard it.

We just went to a local fish market situated on the dock.

Point to be noted: Mr. A will 9/10 times not step on a sea-boat unless forced. The one time he did was in the year 2019 to go whale watching with his family (myself, kids, his parents). And that’s it. His logic is simple: ‘If we were meant to be in the ocean, we would have gills and fins.’

Can’t say the logic is flawed though.

Anyway, so we bought the fish, marinated it, went for a pool day and the came back to cook and eat the fish. Now the parts that weren’t cooked were, you guessed it, the head and the tail. The original plan was to freeze it, bring it back home in the cooler, and in a week or two make a nice Bengali fish curry and have it with hot, fluffy, white rice. Amar Bangali bondhugulo bujhbe! Lol

Guess what I found in the freezer today.

If you managed to guess it, CONGRATULATIONS…!!! The year-long frozen and marinated prize will be shipped to you. What you do with it will frankly, not be my concern anymore. If for whatever distracting reason you haven’t guessed it, scroll up and read the title. Got it? Bingo.

So…yes, I found the frozen, marinated head and tail. Chilling better in my freezer than I have ever done in my own house. Taking up that space much more confidently than I have ever managed to take the designated parking spot. Looking absolutely unbothered by my first look of confusion, and then the absolute horror at my own less than that head memory. I wish I could slap a palm to that turmeric slathered head, but I made it work by slapping it on my forehead.

Alright…alright…I accept!

This dead fish and its tail are sassy. I would have preferred saucy but again, my memory failed me. Sassy it is! Mocking me from the depths of the ice-cold bin, I could almost hear its evil fishy voice: ‘Glah…glah…glah…I caught you…even in death…’

Maybe this is how killers in thrillers feel when they stare at the faces of their victims. Either I am in the middle of an extremely precarious emotional state or this is the start of some very disturbing animal-thriller where a dead fish takes its revenge. Any takers for the story? No?

Wise move.

I gently closed the drawer and went about my work, momentarily putting the marine-filled ziplock bag out of my mind. It was after dinner that it struck me how unbothered I was before and after. Or to put simply, I wasn’t bothered about it until I saw it.

Some things are like that.

An incident. A person. A not so pleasant memory. A workplace thing. A jab someone took at you. Maybe it wasn’t that bad. Or that scary. Or didn’t bother you as much. You just put it somewhere in the freezer of your mind thinking that it can be addressed later. And sat it did. Until one day, perchance, you rediscovered it. Maybe like me, all you wanted was to take out the frozen chicken to thaw when a suspicious looking ziplock of which you have no apparent memory, takes over your line of sight. Now even after you shut that door, you can’t help but think about all the time and space that innocuous bag must have cost you.

And as it happens when thoughts start linking one after the other, the infamous ‘Ifs’ take over.

‘If I had addressed it that time..’

‘If I had done something…’

‘Said something…’

‘Taken it out…’

‘Cooked it…’

‘Asked someone what to do…’

Followed by either a: ‘Why did I let it sit for so long?’ or ‘What is wrong with me?’ or maybe a Joey style ‘Why God, why???’

After all this melodrama which we desis are notorious and notoriously proud of, will you finally ask the question which should have been asked in the first place.

“What do I do with it?”

What’s the answer?

Well…depending on your mood or preference, maybe you could take that fish head out. Thaw it. Try making it into something. Try to eat it. Or ask others to accompany you on this death-defying adventure just like the fantasy Mr. A did to capture it in the first place. Discuss with someone relevant what went wrong, why did you forget it, how to avoid it in the future. Write it in bold and stick on your kitchen wall for added measure. Finally decide that the efforts and the ingredients have been once again, wasted, but this time with conscious efforts. Then your rational mind might tell you that you could bury it in your garden, nutritious soil and all that. Or feed it to your pet. But then the even more rational part of your mind would run a long movie about some pooping pets and a long vet bill. As the climax ends, you know there is only one thing left to do. One refuge. One solution. The solution you were trying so hard to avoid. The action you never wanted to take. You wanted for this to work so bad. ‘After all this time?’ ‘Always’ you reply. But now, there is no escape. No more answers. Nothing else left to do. Yes….

The trash can.

Just dump it already…gawd…!!! You people drive me crazy! Couldn’t you have dumped it the first thing?

Oh…what would I have done, you ask?

Whoa! Watch that tone misster…missy…whatever!

I would have done the same thing I actually did. Closed the door and walked off to do other stuff. By other stuff I mean try to explain to my toddler that ‘HEY GOGO…!!!’ is sleeping. So far that negotiation is going terribly.

How could I have done that?

Errr…because I didn’t marinate nor store it there? Mr. A did. Didn’t you read the story?

What is that?

I should have led with that?

Oh…so now its ‘exactly like those blog recipes with a long drawn out stories with actual stuff in the end’? :exaggerated eye roll:

Well…joke’s on you Karen and Keith. This one still has no recipe! Ha!

And its called creative writing for a reason. I create things as I write. At least you got the gist. If you didn’t, here’s a recap:

If you find a long frozen fish head in your mental/emotional freezer, instead of tending to it like you should have done initially, just discard it. It’s way past its expiry date man!

Some fishes are only meant to be consumed in part, not as a whole.

Hope the imagery is super clear.

Oh my goodness!

Just imagine a carrot without its head or tail if you’re a vegetarian!!! :flails body in annoyance:

Ugh!

Shesh. (The End in Bengali.)

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