One of the great things about fishing on the pier is the knowledge you can acquire in the lulls between bites. Some of it is life changing---in a good way---and some of it should be sealed in a lead-lined container and be buried at the bottom of an abandoned coal mine. This is about the good kind.
Since I tend to measure the size of the Spanish I catch by how many fish tacos each one will make, the conversation, naturally, gravitated to fish tacos. (I am a highly influential person, old and wise beyond measure, and besides, fish tacos are delicious and everybody likes them.) Pug said that he liked his with fried fish, red onions and red wine vinegar. This was a new concept to me since I tend to go the route of coleslaw and tartar sauce. Anyhow, I got me a red onion on one of my trips to the pier yesterday, handed the uber-fresh fillets to my darling wife, whom I have taught to fry fish correctly, and prepared to sample this new concoction. I sliced some cabbage real thin, cut the red onion very coarsely, and added some thin carrot strips. I put in a crispy fillet with the veggies and poured an ample amount of red wine vinaigrette over it. I took a bold bite, nothing tentative, and I won't say I thought I'd gone to Heaven, but I could no longer see the Gates of Hell. It was a transformative expperience, and like a lot of wonderful things, it was so simple that it was easy to overlook. That red wine stuff now has a permanant place in my seasoning cabinet and I'm going to the store for a back-up bottle this afternoon. And more red onions.
Thank you, Pug.
