Fish

Decided to brace myself and go into Birmingham city this Saturday. When I grew up in the West Midlands, we didn't seem to eat much fish. What we had was either fish fingers, or white fish from the chain fishmongers 'Mac Fisheries'. As a lad I put that down to the Midlands being a long way from the sea. My evidence for this was that fish and chips always tasted much better when we went on holiday to Teignmouth in Devon for two weeks every year. I didn't really like fish very much then anyway, so I didn't think about it very much.

My beliefs seemed to be confirmed by living near the coast in the North East, where there are a few excellent, traditional fish and chip shops (Christiansen, North Shields and Colman's South Shields for example).

I still have a sneaking suspicion that the quality of fish and chips is inversely proportional to their distance from the coast, but it has to be said there are some excellent fish and chip shops in Brum.

In subsequent years, I developed a liking for different types of fish. I finally fell in love with mussels and oysters in Brittany, buying them fresh from the local markets. I still miss the taste and texture of octopus and red mullet cooked on a charcoal grill, with fresh lemon juice and herbs, from the 3 years I lived in Cyprus.

So when I went to the Fish Market in central Birmingham, I was overwhelmed by the quality and variety of the fish - all the usual, but also plenty of red mullet, parrot-fish, octopus, oyster, mussels. They were all there and more besides. And they were fresh.

My previous interest in cooking had declined over the last few years, but those flames are being rekindled. Gladys has pointed out to me that many of my important memories seem to involve food. I hadn't thought about that either, but I do think she is right (about that anyway).