Mahi mahi

This past summer I somehow stumbled across a PETA video narrated by the entrancing Alec Baldwin, and made the knee-jerk decision that perhaps it was that time again, the time to try being a vegetarian. The experiment lasted about six days, included some confused and profound questioning moments with egg salad sandwiches -- how can an egg not be meat if it grows up to be meat? -- and ended with a visit to a Thai restaurant wherein I revised my self-identification to "pescetarian" so that I could eat some curried prawns.

So my time as a pescetarian went on for a few weeks more. I was invited to a BBQ, so I brought along some frozen President's Choice mahi mahi. My friend however brought a local grass-fed steak fresh from the Pemberton Valley, grilled it up rare, offered me a piece and that was the end: the last of the Baldwin influence disappeared in a delightful burst of bloody meat. Wine was drunk, steaks were chewed and the mahi mahi sat slowly thawing on the picnic table all night. I still brought it home with me in the hopes of cooking it the next day, but it sat in my fridge for a week as I was distracted on a daily basis by such things as halves of Starbucks sandwiches, and eventually I had to throw it away.

Following a trip to the local No Frills, tonight was attempt #2 to make the mahi mahi. I had no idea what to do with it, so I did what I'd normally do with salmon and threw it in the oven with some olive oil, chopped garlic, fresh dill and lemon juice. It was not terrible. I served it with some canned asparagus bits which I've had in my pantry forever, and which by the way are so close to disintegration they are a waste of matter. Dessert was, and likely will be every night until I run out of one or the other, more frozen yogurt with the lovely sour cherry preserves.