I love salmon; it’s one of my favorite fish. At the same time, I have been challenged in this love affair recently.
The last time I went to New York City to work for my son’s company, Earl went fishing.
For the first time in memory, he and his cohorts caught their limits. I don’t know what those limits are, but I do know that when I returned there was salmon for forty people in my freezer. At least Earl was kind enough to cut and freeze it in individual portions.
At first, I enjoyed having salmon at the ready seven nights a week. But after a while I detected that I might be growing gills; so I devised ways to share Earl’s bounty. We hosted a fishy cocktail party where I served two salmon recipes. I gave frozen servings to friends for the asking, and I kept serving it at home. Finally, Earl said he didn’t want any more.
But there were still portions to go. What to do? I asked one more friend if she could take some, and when she agreed I was left with only three pieces. I plan to eat them in the next couple days.
Of course, Earl will probably hire another charter captain and go fishing once again. He loves it that much. So would it be disloyal of me to hope he doesn’t catch his limit?
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