Willow and the fish.

There's not a whole lot that bothers me. I don't mind heights, spiders, being home alone or the dark. But fish? Fish give me the creeps. I don't cook a lot of fish, but we eat a lot of fish out of cans.

Then M's mate Todd gave me a whole fish. Very fresh. No time like the present (when the present is Lent or Good Friday or whatever it was) to get over my aversion, right?

1. Willow happily caressed the fish and put it in her bike basket. 
2. She loved digging at the eyeball. Then she kept putting her fingers in her mouth.
3. Making her own seasoning. I had pounded some lemongrass, kaffir lime, chilli sauce, salt, garlic, pepper and other things together with my mortar and pestle. Willow appropriated some of my lemongrass and began cutting it up and stuffing it into the slits I cut on the fish.
4. Squeezing some lemon juice over the fish.
5. She used the lemons to wipe out my mortar. Smart girl. That didn't occur to me.
6. Eating the fish. Obviously, a whole lot later. During the baking time she kept asking me if she could look at her fish, or eat her fish.
7. Least inspiring photo of food ever. I'm really, really paranoid about bones, so in the search for bones, the lovely firm flesh turns into mush. I served my delicious fish mush with some noodles and kale.

I don't think I have a future as a food blogger. But you know what? It felt good to successfully get over something I've never done. I'm proud of myself for stepping out of my comfort zone. So there.

As for Willow? She keeps asking to have fish with noodles again.