Simple Meals Are Best

Friday Fiction

Saturday Night Fish Fry

“Marilyn! A sight for sore eyes!”

“You’re lookin’ pretty good yourself, Robert. It‘s been too long since I’ve seen you.”

A man and woman, well into their seniority, had met in the frozen food aisle of a supermarket. They simultaneously rose from the posture of leaning on their carts; it was as if they had been given injections of youth serum.

“What’s it been? Thirty years?” asked Robert, “Our 20th class reunion, right?”

Robert, known as Bobby when he was younger, went to high school with Marilyn, had even kissed her then, and more than once. His heart hadn’t been in it, however, for he had been confused about sex and romance then. Later, when he had seen her again at that reunion, he was not confused, but not available either. She was married, but looking for a partner who had a more dynamic idea of what life should be, someone whose a mind wasn’t obsessed with actuary tables. The farewell embrace that Robert and Marilyn shared then had been interrupted by Marilyn’s husband insistent honking of his car horn.

“How are you doing, Bobby? I heard about your wife’s passing, Judy wasn’t it? I’m sorry for your loss,” Marilyn, never one to mince words, thought she might have crossed the line with “That was pretty bold of me,” a twinge of regret crossed her face, a twinge that quickly morphed into an affectionate smile, “I heard about it from Sally.”

“It’s as good as can be hoped for. Her family was helpful, but the boys took it pretty hard.”

“Do you see them much? Any grand-kids?”

“A couple of grandsons, one each, but the eldest son lives on the west coast and the youngest one on the east. Usually at Christmas, we had a summer vacation together two years ago, just before Ellen died. Covid,” Robert paused as a twinge of sadness plied his features, ”How about your daughter, it’s just the one, isn’t it?”

“Louise is a great kid, more like a pal. She’s divorced too, we do a lot of things together, we’re the gay divorcees. Not gay, gay, just happy when we are together.”

“You’re shopping for your supper?”

“Cooking for one sucks,” said Marilyn, “I’ve got the frozen food blues.”

“What are you doing tonight? I could cook you a meal! We can have a Saturday night fish fry, that’s why I’m here, they have a special on walleye,” said Robert, “And you can see my new place.”

“Why, yes! That would be nice,” she said with a grin, “Is there anything I can bring?”

“Just an appetite… and that smile.”

---

“Welkommin, welcome, com’on in!”

“My goodness! Do you own this place?”

“It would be more accurate to say that it owns me.”

Marilyn and Robert were standing in the doorway of a 19th century townhouse on Summit Avenue in Saint Paul, Minnesota.

There must be a lot of history here;” said Marilyn, “If these walls could talk… ”

“Well, next door is where F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote his first novel, said Robert, “This Side of Paradise… so I suppose that we’re in it, in paradise?”

“Lead on, Angel.”

Robert led Marilyn into the townhouse’s interior, pausing from time to time to point out some distinctive architectural feature.

“You’ll notice the hand-carving over the mantle, it gives me a challenge when dusting.”

“Really Bobby, you do the dusting?”

“Well, I think about doing the dusting,” he said, “Although my domestic specialty is really cooking.”

They found themselves in the kitchen. It had retained most of its woodwork and cupboards but was also well furnished with modern appliances. There was already food cooking on the massive industrial stove.

“This is fabulous! Did you have it updated?” asked Marilyn, “It’s my dream kitchen.”

“I just had the pots and pan rack removed. This isn’t a commercial kitchen. Yet. Depends on how this meal turns out, if it is a success I might have to consider it.”

“What can I do to help?”

“There are salad fixings in the fridge: lower right side, the nasturtiums are edible, go wild!” said Robert, “I’ve already laid out the what I need for the main courses. There is a small plate of charcuterie on the shelf above the salad if you have need of an amuse-bouche. You haven’t converted to Judaism, have you?”

“Yum. This is fabulous.”

“Shall I open the wine? Kia Ora, New Zealand.”

They began preparing the food.

“Did you cook much when your wife was alive?” said Marilyn, “I let Mark do most of the cooking when we were together, mostly meat and potatoes, the only exotic foods he’d make were French fries.”

“I’d cook most of the time, not all the time. When the kids were young she more. A dozen ways of pasta, if you count Mac ‘n’ Cheese, the usual holiday meals. When you get together with your kids and grand-kids who cooks?”

“Always the Daughter-in-laws. Never the boys,” Marilyn said, taking a sip of wine, “Oooh! another winner. Mark only drank beer.”

The fish had begun to sizzle; that scent and that of the buns warming in the oven began to fill the room.

“I’m starting to think that I should have brought my toothbrush,” said Marilyn, “Is the breakfast menu available?”

“Nice girls don’t stay for breakfast,” Robert said, smiling, “I’m more of a minimalist in the morning, coffee and shredded wheat with blueberries.”

“I’m not a nice girl, remember when we ‘broke-up’ before we even started going out?”

“I remember, and I am sorry,” said Robert, “I wasn’t that you weren’t nice, I just wasn’t ready.”

“I just wasn’t Carol, you meant to say.” Carol was a friend of Marilyn’s who was also in their class.

“There is some truth to that,” Robert said as turned to the stove and started steaming the cauliflower, “But it’s not all the truth. To be honest, I was in love with most of the girls in our class, do you remember the Lovin’ Spoonful song Did You Ever Have to Make Up Your Mind?, the story of my life. I was lucky to find Judy.”

They didn’t speak for a while. Robert finished putting the food in serving dishes and Marilyn put the salad and the dressings on the table.

“Everything’s just about ready, if you’ll take a seat,” He said, clipping a red name tag to his shirt pocket, “I’m Robert and I’ll be your server tonight. It is the custom of the house to save the salad for the last course, a cleansing of the palate for the dessert.”

“I see,” said Marilyn, “In the French style, N’est-ce Pas?

“Voici un toast à mon ami de longue date, et à ce qui aurait pu être… ” said Robert, holding his glass to hers, “Here’s to a true friend, indeed!”

“Oh my!” said Marilyn with a smile, “Shall we begin?”

---

Robert and Marilyn’s Walleye Dinner:

Cook 1 cup rice as per usual instructions with the addition of curry or other asian spice blend.

Take 1 pound frozen walleye fillets and run hot water over the skin side, then peel the skin from the meat. Scrape off and black residue remaining; it leaves a fishy taste. Trim off thin parts and cut the thicker pieces into 2 inch squares, the thinner pieces can be larger. Sprinkle all sides with Wondra, a fine flour. Half-thaw the thicker pieces in the microwave, Set aside.

Begin warming a large frying pan to medium/high heat with about 3/8" of high-temp oil, preferably safflower oil.

Beat one egg with a tablespoon of milk in a shallow dish, place next to fish. Pour a half cup of Panko bread crumbs into a shallow dish and mix with one tablespoon (more if desired) Old Bay or other fish seasoning. Place next to egg/milk mixture, near the frying pan. Dredge the fish pieces in the egg, then coat in the Panko. Start cooking the thicker pieces first, the thin pieces only need a couple of minutes. Turn half way through. When done put on a paper towel in a shallow serving dish.

Slice desired amount of cauliflower in 1/2 inch strips, place in steamer but don't start cooking until fish is about half-cooked (about 5 minutes). Don't overcook! When done put in a shallow serving dish on top of the cooked rice and sprinkle with oil and herbes de provence.

If you have big appetites, serve with warmed buns or multigrain bread and butter.

Salad is best with mixed greens, add berries, dill, chives, sliced cherry tomatoes, even nasturtium flowers in season, with a lighter oil/vinegar Italian style dressing.

A good French Sancerre or a New Zealand Sauvignon blanc wine, with herbal and mineral notes, complements the food.

The idea behind this meal is to create a subtle blend of flavors, not to overwhelm the palate; definitely not recommended for smokers, they won't taste a thing!