Thursday, 4 July 2013

The Mixed Fish - Paul's on the Parade

 
"We do not have any butterfish," proclaimed our haughty waiter.
There was no butterfish on the menu.
"Oh. Then we do not have any hake."
There was no hake on the menu, either.
Badminton's dinner this week saw us abandoning our original idea of schnitzels for food of the piscine variety. 

We traipsed into Paul's Fish Cafe on the Parade in our trendy sportswear and made our way to a table. While I made a quick exit to the little girl's room, it was decided by the remaining party that tonight's fish experience was to be an educational one. Prepare to be educated.

I shall digress for a moment to introduce my Badminton buddies; namely the ones who attended dinner on this fine evening. On my right at the "window seat" sat Jason, purveyor of a fine curry; opposite sat Thu, food connoisseur; and to the right sat Pamela, the daughter of a chef. We are a fine company of experts, if one includes my outstanding ability to eat anything and, in most cases, everything.

We decided to order two serves of the mixed fish; 3 pieces of fish in each serve. This equals 6 pieces of fish. There were 5 different fish available on the menu, therefore one piece of fish had to be repeated twice to equate to 6. 

I just used maths. Have I lost anyone? No? I shall continue.

Unfortunately, this concept was a little too hard for our self-important waiter to grasp.

"Yes but what fish do you want with your mixed fish?"
"We'd like one serve of each, with two of the garfish."
"Yes, but what fish do you want with your mixed fish?"

After some time and some careful pointing to the menu, and gently reminding the waiter that he sold neither butterfish or hake, our order was sorted. 

2 serves of the mixed fish with:
One piece of flathead
One piece of baramundi
One piece of King George whiting
One piece of snapper
Two pieces of garfish

Thus, in the name of science, we could compare the different kinds of fish and how their fishiness differentiated.

I have no idea what fish is what.

Promptly forgetting the varieties of each fish as we were told them, we carefully divided each piece into four. We ate together, examining the texture and the fishiness of each fish, comparing and contrasting as the experts we are.

At the conclusion of our meal, we decided that there are two types of fish. 

Baramundi, and everything else.

     "Well done everybody!" Pamela declared, "We can taste baramundi!"
     "I think I can pick garfish!" piped up Thu.
     Pamela looked knowingly across the table.

     "Except Thu. She's got garfish covered."