Below is what i wrote for Twentyfour7, Feb issue. Just thought it would be apt to post up pre V-day.From the moment I cut the fish open, I knew I’d made the most horrible choice.
“Rainbow trout” sounded like something romantically delicious for the first dinner date. The truth is, the well-covered skinny, spiky bones hiding inside the tender flesh of the said fish were enough to make toothpick supply for the entire Antarctic nation.
I spent more than one hour de-boning the damn fish with my dainty fingers, trying to pick up itsy-bitsy bits of smashed meat before they fall off my fork again. I spent more time picking out tiny bones that got stuck between my molars than chewing on the fish. I hardly ate anything at all, except some cauliflower and lettuce at the side. In the end, I pushed away a plate of mess which looked like it has just been ditched by a toddler who’s done playing with, while staring monumentally embarrassed at my cute date who went out the first time with me. read more