Salmon Fishing in the Yemen

Some days I feel like I’m being mocked by fish. As a child, I was traumatized when I was forced to consume a creamed fish dish called Finnan Haddie, which I always thought was Fin and Hattie until I just wikipediaed the name. (I envisioned a jaunty chapeau worn by a goldfish that was drenched in butter and cream that made the house reek for days). When I was pregnant with my first child, the smell of anything scale-related made me nauseous to the point that if I saw a Long John Silvers I would have to cross the street. Even now, I avoid the Shedd Aquarium. Continue reading