dad

Omelettes, baking (of any sort), pivot tables, PowerPoint presentations, refraining from opening other peoples’ mail,  picking up my dry cleaning when it’s actually ready, controlling my hanger (that special type of rage you get when you’re starving), cheese-making, sushi rolling, running…

These are all things I’m not particularly good at; the most devastating addition to this list is fish filleting.  It’s kind of pathetic given my family’s fishfolk status but my dad spoils me and presents me with perfectly filleted kitchen-ready salmon all the time…So, hey! What’s my motivation to figure out how to cut these damn things myself?!  In efforts to be more self-sufficient,  I finally tried my hand at filleting a whole Coho, under Dad’s direction of course.

I don’t know about you, but trying to learn stuff from Dad is the most frustrating and painful process. Ever. Yes, I love him and yes, he has tons of knowledge to impart but man, that guy has NO PATIENCE (cut to tear-laden movie montage of me learning to walk, ride a bike, drive a car…). And as articulate and commanding as he must have been on Wall Street back in the day, when he’s trying to teach me something he makes NO SENSE WHATSOEVER. 

So there we were with a Coho, 2 sharp knives and my lovely sister to document the whole thing…