Maimonides:

Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day; teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.

I’d love the lesson, teacher, but sometimes figuring out what to do when someone simply gifts you the fish is challenge enough. This time, I aced the oceanic pop quiz.

Most folks plan out their meals with recipes in advance, then head to the grocery store to get the required supplies. Some of my most rewarding meals invert this concept and force me to plan dishes based on the marvelous ingredients available.

Cassidy sent me this text at 7 bells.

Cassidy’s roommate is my favorite person alive. 5 minutes later, she’s on my doorstep with 4 pounds of yellowtail filets in a large ziplock. To express my gratitude, I sent her off to do one-arm pushups before she teaches her six fancy fitness classes (I kid, Cass).

I fantasized all morning about what to do with that much fish. How would I store it? What preparation method would do it ample justice?

I popped a few portions in the freezer and a couple in the fridge. Two huge filets went into a marinade of olive oil, sea salt, black pepper and lemon juice. My lunch would be cooked on the grill.

I knew I needed some time to develop a game plan, so off I went to run my sprints. I was roughly 30 yards into a set when it dawned on me that I should be attacking this beautiful bounty raw.

Admittedly, I don’t know shit about deciding what fish to eat raw and how to go about it. Don’t get me wrong, I crush sushi, but I’m not deciding what to cook and what is safe to slice. I’ve yet to experience one of my favorite grub fantasies; catching a fish, pulling it from the ocean, slicing it on the boat and devouring it with some lemon juice or soy sauce. This could be the closest thing.

I sent Cass a follow up text:

“Do you eat this raw? Just making sure it’s safe and raw grade. I’m not even sure what that means, BTW.”

She hit me right back.

“I’ll interrogate the fish killer.”

In the meantime, I did some homework.

From pbs.org:

The term “sushi-grade” is often tossed around to imply some level of freshness, but in the US, there’s no regulation around the use of the phrase, so it can be used to describe anything. That said, most stores aren’t in the business of getting their customers sick, so they usually reserve the label for their freshest fish.

Unfortunately, just because it’s fresh doesn’t mean it’s safe to eat raw. Some fish, such as salmon, contain parasites that will make you sick unless they’ve been destroyed. Another potential problem is cross-contamination. This happens when “sushi-grade” fish gets cut on the same cutting board or using the same knife or handled with the same gloves as non-sushi-grade fish. If your fishmonger is storing unwrapped sushi-grade fish in the same refrigerated case as non-sushi-grade fish, this should be a big red flag.

I was already hypothesizing that Cassidy’s friend caught this and only this fish. He’s not selling it; it was gifted to her and subsequently to me. I’ll take his word for it, should good news come in the form of a buzzing phone.

This text shook my pocket:

“Yes! Take the fish out of the bag, wash and chop away.”

I did, and here I sit, typing between bites of delectably fresh raw yellowtail dragged through a plate of soy sauce.

I know where it came from. I know exactly how it arrived on my plate and how long ago it swam. There is a story behind my meal, and the romance of it all somehow made it taste better. It might have shaken up my meal plans, but there was no way I could pass up such a mind-blowing experience.

I’m one step removed from my dream. Mexico, here I come.

Kap