On Fish and Love

When I come home, my grammy instructs me to call the house when I’m 15 minutes away.  She needs just enough time to put the fish in the steamer for 7-8 minutes.  The minute I step in the door is perfectly timed with freshly steamed fish ready for me to devour.

Like many other families, my family shows their love not so much through hugs and kisses, but through food.  It wasn’t so important to attend our games or recitals while growing up, but it was imperative for my mom and grandma to take great care and pride in my diet.

Being in NYC, I don’t eat much fish because I don’t cook it but 1-2 times a year.  To my delight, my roommate David, a talented aspiring chef, texted me at work one day:  “What time will you be home?  I got a nice piece of fish that I would like to make fresh for you.”

Striped Bass with Mushroom Broth. I would have taken a better picture, but I was too eager to eat!

Little did he know how big this gesture is to me.  I was gushing the whole time, trying to contain my cheesy smile.   I called my grandma and my mom to tell them how my roommate takes care of me.  It put them at ease to know that someone in NYC is making sure I have fish to eat.