A fishy tale - #6 - my tastebuds go somewhere beyond the sea

A fishy tale - my tastebuds go somewhere beyond the sea

I've never really considered myself to be a fussy eater. Like any child I went through phases of not liking things - in particular, at one family meal with my grandparents, I vividly remember refusing to have anything on my plate apart from Yorkshire Puddings and gravy. I'm pleased to report that my tastebuds and pallet have matured somewhat since.

However, there are some foods which I still can't stomach the thought of eating. Cauliflower being one - cheese being another - and of course, when the two collide in a gloopy gastronimacal monstrosity, my stomach lining skips a beat.

I think my dislike for cheese stems from the time my brothers pinned me down as a child and force-fed me cheddar. It was a tough and lonely life growing up as the youngest child in 1980s WV4 - but I'm getting through it.

But the one food type I've never been able to stand is fish. There are of course the odd exceptions to this rule; a 1970s-inspired prawn cocktail at Christmas (if doused in enough cocktail sauce) is of course a delight. And Captain Birdseye did his bit to help too - I have fond childhood memories of Birdseye fish fingers being dished alongside shrivelled Birdseye peas which had been boiled-to-within-an-inch-of-their-lives, and a slightly anaemic looking Birdseye Potato Waffle.

But, at the age of 28, I've decided my aversion to eating weird looking things from the sea should come to an end.

I think a lot of this mostly stems from the smell. You see, us Angus's are notoriously good sniffers - and if something honks, we'll generally look to avoid it at all costs.

I think my dislike for seafood emanates from the pungent smells that would often waft through my childhood home on a Saturday lunch time. The smell would be from some horrifically processed fish paste sandwich filler - either salmon, tuna or, at its worst, sardine. Lashings of orange, flakey tinned salmon would also be dished up on occassion which, to me, resembled the look and texture of cat's vomit, doused in vinegar.

And then of course there were the kids at school who'd have tuna sandwiches as part of their packed lunch. The grey, mushy slop which had reached an unhealthily high temperature after sitting at the bottom of their school bags for five hours before they'd come to consume it. The thought of it to this day makes me gag.

But in recent years, thanks to Gordon, Jamie, Hugh and the plethora of TV chefs now adorning our screens - coupled with the smell of fresh fish, marinated in garlic and herbs, particularly from sea-front restaurants abroad - have generated a slight stir in my now maturing tastebuds. So - on this trip I was on a mission to overcome my seafood aversion and complete (and enjoy) number six on my list of things to do before I'm 30: eat seafood overlooking San Francisco Bay.

 

In preparation for my final challenge, I decided to do some warm up attempts...I tried, for the first ever time, sushi.

You see, in New Zealand, and particularly Auckland, there's a huge Asian (or Far East if you like) influence so sushi bars are far more commonplace than here in the UK. And not a sign of a ropey, barely warm 'all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet and the food poisoning comes for free', in sight.

With more than an element of trepidation, I set about trying sushi - but only after ten minutes of trying to figure out how to use chopsticks.

Dare I say I was not completely repulsed by it. It reminded me of a line from the Lion King when Simba tries a grub -  'slimy...yet satisfying'.

And my fish-themed day didn't end there. I really enjoyed tucking in to fish and chips with Rich and his housemates Pedro and Kylie at Mission Bay later that evening. There's something about that aroma of fried batter, salt, seaweed and sand at dusk which brought childhood memories of Weymouth harbour or Borth seafront flooding back.

So - after flirting with the whole seafood thing in New Zealand, it was time to complete my challenge.

On my final evening in San Francisco I headed straight to Fisherman's Wharf, just a block or two from the famous Pier 39. It was there I stumbled upon the famous (and somewhat expensive) Scoma's restaurant overlooking the harbour and the 'Cisco Bay. Hey, if I was going to do this then I was going to do it in style. In hindsight, my choice of wearing my battered old Puma trainers and jeans may have been a tad out of keeping with the ambience of this particular restaurant but hey ho.

My waiter, Nicolo, came to my table. I explained to him my challenge. In hindsight, going alone to a high-end seafood restaurant in San Francisco and opening with the line 'I'm from England. I don't like fish' probably explains the very odd look he gave me. I ordered a Sonoma Valley white wine (after a half day wine tasting session the day before, I of course now consider myself an expert in all things wine). It came, it was clear, full bodied, with depths of fruity and spiced flavours which tasted like....well, grapes and alcohol really. I'm more of a cultured Blue Nun or Hock kind of guy.

I ordered the clam chowder for starters (sorry, entrée) and, at Nicolo's recommendation, I ordered the shellfish platter. That's it - I wasn't messing around with tuna or salmon or swordfish; I was going for the jugular - I was headed straight for the shellfish family.

The clam chowder, somewhat of a local speciality here, arrived. I was pleasantly surprised. Thick, and creamy with potatoes, celery and mushrooms with the texture of rice pudding. I was pleasantly surprised.

And then came the main event. It arrived. A plate full of prawns, scallops, crab legs and petit lobster tails all sauteed in a garlic, herbs and mushroom jus on a bed of steamed vegetables (including bloody cauliflower!), pasta and rice. To some this would seem heavenly. To me - it was my Everest. But here I was, overlooking San Francisco Bay attempting to broaden my culinary horizons - and what better place, aside from Grimsby obviously, to achieve it.

Did I enjoy it? Well - sort of. The presentation was excellent, the smell was appetising, the textures weren't too repulsive and the flavour...well, it was actually quite nice. It was the anxiety of each mouthful - wondering if this would be the unfortunate fishy mouthful which would leave me gagging. But it never came - I'd even come Rennie-prepared just in case.

I survived. I was pleased I did it and I'll definitely order and cook more seafood at home now. I'm sure I've been missing out over the years - but I think I'll have the fish without the side order of anxiety next time.

Number 6 on my list - done. And what's more, it goes to show any fin is possible if you put your mind to it. In fact, I'd say I was a prawn again convert. Ok - fish puns end here. Honest, they reely do.

Couldn't think of any fish-related songs so I chose this musical scene from the film Beyond the Sea. A fine voice from Mr Kevin Spacey and the closest connection to fish I could think of...