Craving Fish

 

I wasn’t feeling like eating. Paul was. He stopped on our way up to Johannesburg countless times, either to eat or to drink. One of those stops had obviously to be the trout place, midway between Maputo and Joburg.

 

He asked for pancakes and rooibos. As he insisted, I ordered tea and a plain fillet of smoked trout, nothing else. Paul was surprised by my frugal fish request, but must have found it interesting because he ordered the same. My idea is that when we order in restaurants we always end up eating what we don’t want, so why not asking only for the food we really want? A bit like Sally in that movie you must remember…

 

Very soon both fillets arrived, all pink, clean and tasty, seasoned with seeds and lots of black pepper. After eating and paying, we decided to visit the next-door trout shop and buy two packs of the same smoked fillets. In consequence, we spent the next two days living on it, besides other fish like smoked mackerel and fresh salmon.

 

During our ride back we decided against stocking trout at home, since Maputo climate is too hot for that kind of fish. We were far from knowing the cold front about to hit Maputo, right after our arrival. Talk about instability! The person who gave masculine genre to the Portuguese word for weather (o tempo) has never been in Maputo, for sure!

 

So, when one day I look back at the third week of September 2008, I shall remember it as the strange period I craved fish.

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