The Barking Lot

I wish I could tell you this post is about courage and how great it is to get over your fears and try something that you usually would not  Unfortunately, that is not the case.

My mother always told me that catfish was a gross species, as they tended to eat everything. They were the bottom feeders of the sea. I tended to agree with her.  I mean, we even have a couple in our fish tank as cleaners.  That being said, I never ate that type of fish in all the years of my life.

Forward many years later… I am married to a man who LOVES catfish.  Every time he orders it at a restaurant, I try to avert my eyes and ignore the slight turn of my stomach and the probable unfounded aversion to the beastly thing, that plagued me.

Today, my husband insisted to buy some catfish to cook at home.  I told him that I would not be cooking it, and if he really wanted it so badly, he could just cook it himself.  He smugly and over confidently agrees to this stipulation. At home, he begins to thoroughly blacken his breaded catfish.  I stare at his “gourmet platter”, as he (oblivious to my facial expressions which clearly displayed my doubt in his cooking skills), continues to cook with his fantasy (and delusional) Emeril like skills.  I however, was pretty sure that breaded anything should have a golden brown color, and not look like a lump of coal out of some bad boy’s Christmas stocking.

I, of course, had to salvage the rest of the dinner, and I ended up cooking the rest of the catfish.  Hubby then talked me into trying some of the catfish.  I do try to be open minded, so I tell myself to be brave, and that there really is nothing disgusting about catfish. Any aversion to it was just in my mind, and it probably was delicious.

Sitting down to dinner I poise my fork over the GOLDEN BROWN fillet (yes I refused to eat hubby’s BURNED fish), and I take a cautious bite.

Well, I did not LOVE it, nor did I hate it, it was sort of good, and every bite I took I became braver and braver, and was even beginning to taste better and better. Hey, this catfish was actually pretty good!… I even started eyeing the two little hoovers climbing the walls of our nearby fish tank, and wondering what they would taste like….I continue to blissfully dig into my dinner, and lifting another healthy bite to my mouth, I stop and stare. There is something white and squiggly looking. It suddenly dawned on me- THANKFULLY not a minute too soon…  EWWW ITS A WORMMM!!!

Needless to say, it took all of my willpower not to upchuck the catfish that I did eat.  So much for being brave and trying new things.  Sorry hubby no more catfish at my table!!

(Hours later I am still feeling grossly nauseous.  Did I mention that we’re suppose to go to my Mother’s tomorrow for a delicious Thanksgiving dinner?…  Pleassse let me get my appetite back!)