First, my apologies on the length of time since my last post. However, I'm happy to report that my online absence can be at least partially blamed on the fact that the Glass Onion cookbook has entered the final stages of production. And trust me, no one could rival my excitement as I peruse the pages one last time. Just imagine all the stories and recipes you enjoy here on our blog in a perfectly bound book! That pleasure should be yours no later than mid-September; I'll keep you posted.
I do have to admit that in my absence I managed to squeeze in a weekend trip to Georgia (my home state) and enjoyed quite the eating adventure. The truly delicious local food movement appears alive and well in Athens and Atlanta, and I strongly encourage any of you in those environs to check out the following spots that I thoroughly enjoyed. I know that I only brushed the surface of the culinary offerings in both these cities and would love to hear about your favorite local food haunts here, there or anywhere!
Happy Local Eating!
All the food that I could fit into 48 hours:
In Athens, GA:
Five & Ten
www.fiveandten.com
Local Chantrelles with a Poached Farm Egg -- YUM!
In Atlanta:
Empire State South
www.empirestatesouth.com
Sweetbreads with Grilled Peaches -- Need I say more!
Miller Union
www.millerunion.com
Housemade S'Mores! ( I hated that I missed out on their ice cream sandwiches, which they only serve at lunch.)
Star Provisions
www.starprovisions.com
Pork Belly Ban Minh -- authentic take on this classic Vietnamese sandwich!
Showing posts with label food memories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food memories. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Summertime = Key Lime Pie
As I head south for a couple of days to enjoy a bit of time on Florida's coast, I think it only appropriate that I repost the recipe for Ruth's Key Lime Pie along with Ruth's story. I can hardly wait to see her and her key lime pie!
Ruth Penn -- The Queen of Key Lime Pie
If one dessert defined my childhood, it was Ruth's Key Lime Pie. With a tangy, creamy center and billowing, ethereal meringue, it was quite simply heaven.
Every summer I awaited our family trips to Jacksonville, Florida with the anticipation most children reserve for Christmas. I craved the ocean and the sand, but mostly I yearned for Ruth. To me, she embodied every familial female figure. She would hug and commiserate and champion me throughout my life, and most of this happened inside the sturdy, old walls of our beach house kitchen.
Ruth Penn began cooking for my grandmother and her sister in the summer of 1973 (or thereabouts). During the rest of the year, she worked for the Duval County Public School System cooking in schools around the city.
"I loved it. It was my passion," she says. "Feeding other people; watching them eat."
At home, Ruth had her own nine children to feed, and really, that was her initial impetus for cooking. Ironically, as a child herself, growing up in Annapolis, Maryland, Ruth Lililan Johnson had little interest in the kitchen.
"I was an outside person," she says. "I liked to be gone!"
However, good cooking surrounded Ruth -- this she could not escape. Her father loved food and cooked everything from local vegetables to leg of lamb. And her grandmother ran a small baking business from her home kitchen. Ruth and her siblings spent a few days every week at her house -- watching and helping with pound cakes, cobblers, and her famous dinner rolls.
When Ruth married James Penn Jr. (known affectionately as "Penn"), she moved to a naval base in Portsmouth, Virginia. It was there that she remembers cooking her first big meal. Penn's family made the trip up from North Carolina, bringing a ham and such; but she had to prepare the greens, which she knew nothing about. Penn guided her through the cleaning of the greens, and then Ruth just threw them in a pot with water and a piece of meat. Ruth laughs now, remembering the family arriving to greens floating in a pot of water.
"Girl, you don't know how to cook greens!" they said. Then they took the greens out of the water and started over.
But over the years, Ruth taught herself the ways of the kitchen through trial and error -- cooking everything from spaghetti to fried chicken, and finally Key lime pie.
She remembers that in the early 80s my grandmother came to the beach after a trip to Key West raving about this pie. She even brought Ruth a postcard with the recipe on it. Ruth had never heard of it, but just followed the instructions on that card, and that's what she has been doing every summer since.
Ruth believes that the trick to the pie is in the meringue. "You have to make sure it's whipped to a certain level and browned to perfection," she says. And I agree.
But I also believe the true secret lies in Ruth and the love she imparts with every bite.
Ruth’s Key Lime Pie
Full credit for this pie goes to Ruth Penn of Jacksonville, Florida -- an amazing cook and friend. I changed only her meringue to a very stable version that I prefer in a restaurant setting. Otherwise, this is the same pie I have eaten every summer of my life, made exclusively by Ruth!
(The photo is of Ruth and her biggest fan -- myself! Circa 1980.)
1 unbaked frozen pie shell
6 cups uncooked rice or dried beans, for use as pie weights
4 large eggs
1 14-ounce can condensed milk
½ cup Joe and Nell’s Key lime juice (Ruth prefers this brand!)
Meringue (see recipe below)
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Line pie shell with a sheet of tinfoil. Spread rice or beans across the pie shell, mounding them up a bit on the sides and going more lightly in the center.
Place pie shell on baking sheet. Bake until edges are dark golden brown and center has just begun to golden. Check crust's progress at 30 minutes, but total baking time should be about 45 minutes.
Remove from oven and allow to cool with tinfoil and weights still in place. Once cool, remove weights and reserve the weights for another day. Discard tinfoil. Reserve crust until filling and meringue are both made. The crust can be baked off one day in advance, wrapped, and held at room temperature.
To make filling, separate the eggs -- put yolks into a medium bowl, one white into a small bowl, and the remaining 3 whites into another small bowl to reserve for meringue (see recipe below). Add condensed milk and key lime juice to bowl of yolks; whisk to combine. Beat one egg white until frothy and fold into the bowl of yolks. Reserve filling until meringue is made (see recipe below).
Once meringue is made, pour filling into prebaked crust. Dollop the meringue on top of the filling using a rubber spatula, making sure meringue reaches edges of pie to form a seal; this will help with meringue's shrinkage during baking. Bake until the meringue turns golden brown, about 30 minutes.
Allow pie to cool to room temperature, then transfer to refrigerator for complete cooling, about 6 hours. Pie is best served the day it is made. It can be held overnight, but doing so will compromise the quality of the meringue.
To serve, dip a knife in hot water, wipe dry, and slice in half. Repeat process, then slice into quarters. Repeat process, then slice into eighths.
YIELD: 8 servings
P.S. The meringue will "weep" some during/after baking. This is due to moisture in the egg whites and really should not pose a problem nor be too excessive, thanks to this very stable meringue recipe.
MERINGUE
6 egg whites
1 teaspoon cream of tartar
¾ cup of sugar
1/3 cup water
1 tablespoon cornstarch
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Combine egg whites in a large bowl. Beat with an electric mixer until foamy. Add cream of tartar; beat until body begins to build. Gradually add sugar; beat until moderately stiff peaks form; reserve.
Combine water, cornstarch, vanilla, and salt in a small pot or skillet. Cook over medium heat, stirring, until gel forms, about 30 seconds. Remove from heat.
Spoon cornstarch mixture into egg white mixture; beat to combine. At this point, your meringue should be stable and shiny.
YIIELD: Meringue for 1 pie (Double this recipe for a tart!)
P.S. Meringue can be a bear in a restaurant setting, as it does not want to hold up well. Here, the use of cornstarch creates a more stable meringue, a trick I learned from the wonderful cookbooks of Shirley Corriher.
P.P.S. Do not be surprised at the amount of meringue produced by this recipe; it is indeed substantial. But I find that folks who love meringue pies really want a little pie and a lot of meringue!
Ruth Penn -- The Queen of Key Lime Pie
If one dessert defined my childhood, it was Ruth's Key Lime Pie. With a tangy, creamy center and billowing, ethereal meringue, it was quite simply heaven.
Every summer I awaited our family trips to Jacksonville, Florida with the anticipation most children reserve for Christmas. I craved the ocean and the sand, but mostly I yearned for Ruth. To me, she embodied every familial female figure. She would hug and commiserate and champion me throughout my life, and most of this happened inside the sturdy, old walls of our beach house kitchen.
Ruth Penn began cooking for my grandmother and her sister in the summer of 1973 (or thereabouts). During the rest of the year, she worked for the Duval County Public School System cooking in schools around the city.
"I loved it. It was my passion," she says. "Feeding other people; watching them eat."
At home, Ruth had her own nine children to feed, and really, that was her initial impetus for cooking. Ironically, as a child herself, growing up in Annapolis, Maryland, Ruth Lililan Johnson had little interest in the kitchen.
"I was an outside person," she says. "I liked to be gone!"
However, good cooking surrounded Ruth -- this she could not escape. Her father loved food and cooked everything from local vegetables to leg of lamb. And her grandmother ran a small baking business from her home kitchen. Ruth and her siblings spent a few days every week at her house -- watching and helping with pound cakes, cobblers, and her famous dinner rolls.
When Ruth married James Penn Jr. (known affectionately as "Penn"), she moved to a naval base in Portsmouth, Virginia. It was there that she remembers cooking her first big meal. Penn's family made the trip up from North Carolina, bringing a ham and such; but she had to prepare the greens, which she knew nothing about. Penn guided her through the cleaning of the greens, and then Ruth just threw them in a pot with water and a piece of meat. Ruth laughs now, remembering the family arriving to greens floating in a pot of water.
"Girl, you don't know how to cook greens!" they said. Then they took the greens out of the water and started over.
But over the years, Ruth taught herself the ways of the kitchen through trial and error -- cooking everything from spaghetti to fried chicken, and finally Key lime pie.
She remembers that in the early 80s my grandmother came to the beach after a trip to Key West raving about this pie. She even brought Ruth a postcard with the recipe on it. Ruth had never heard of it, but just followed the instructions on that card, and that's what she has been doing every summer since.
Ruth believes that the trick to the pie is in the meringue. "You have to make sure it's whipped to a certain level and browned to perfection," she says. And I agree.
But I also believe the true secret lies in Ruth and the love she imparts with every bite.
Ruth’s Key Lime Pie
Full credit for this pie goes to Ruth Penn of Jacksonville, Florida -- an amazing cook and friend. I changed only her meringue to a very stable version that I prefer in a restaurant setting. Otherwise, this is the same pie I have eaten every summer of my life, made exclusively by Ruth!
(The photo is of Ruth and her biggest fan -- myself! Circa 1980.)
1 unbaked frozen pie shell
6 cups uncooked rice or dried beans, for use as pie weights
4 large eggs
1 14-ounce can condensed milk
½ cup Joe and Nell’s Key lime juice (Ruth prefers this brand!)
Meringue (see recipe below)
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Line pie shell with a sheet of tinfoil. Spread rice or beans across the pie shell, mounding them up a bit on the sides and going more lightly in the center.
Place pie shell on baking sheet. Bake until edges are dark golden brown and center has just begun to golden. Check crust's progress at 30 minutes, but total baking time should be about 45 minutes.
Remove from oven and allow to cool with tinfoil and weights still in place. Once cool, remove weights and reserve the weights for another day. Discard tinfoil. Reserve crust until filling and meringue are both made. The crust can be baked off one day in advance, wrapped, and held at room temperature.
To make filling, separate the eggs -- put yolks into a medium bowl, one white into a small bowl, and the remaining 3 whites into another small bowl to reserve for meringue (see recipe below). Add condensed milk and key lime juice to bowl of yolks; whisk to combine. Beat one egg white until frothy and fold into the bowl of yolks. Reserve filling until meringue is made (see recipe below).
Once meringue is made, pour filling into prebaked crust. Dollop the meringue on top of the filling using a rubber spatula, making sure meringue reaches edges of pie to form a seal; this will help with meringue's shrinkage during baking. Bake until the meringue turns golden brown, about 30 minutes.
Allow pie to cool to room temperature, then transfer to refrigerator for complete cooling, about 6 hours. Pie is best served the day it is made. It can be held overnight, but doing so will compromise the quality of the meringue.
To serve, dip a knife in hot water, wipe dry, and slice in half. Repeat process, then slice into quarters. Repeat process, then slice into eighths.
YIELD: 8 servings
P.S. The meringue will "weep" some during/after baking. This is due to moisture in the egg whites and really should not pose a problem nor be too excessive, thanks to this very stable meringue recipe.
MERINGUE
6 egg whites
1 teaspoon cream of tartar
¾ cup of sugar
1/3 cup water
1 tablespoon cornstarch
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Combine egg whites in a large bowl. Beat with an electric mixer until foamy. Add cream of tartar; beat until body begins to build. Gradually add sugar; beat until moderately stiff peaks form; reserve.
Combine water, cornstarch, vanilla, and salt in a small pot or skillet. Cook over medium heat, stirring, until gel forms, about 30 seconds. Remove from heat.
Spoon cornstarch mixture into egg white mixture; beat to combine. At this point, your meringue should be stable and shiny.
YIIELD: Meringue for 1 pie (Double this recipe for a tart!)
P.S. Meringue can be a bear in a restaurant setting, as it does not want to hold up well. Here, the use of cornstarch creates a more stable meringue, a trick I learned from the wonderful cookbooks of Shirley Corriher.
P.P.S. Do not be surprised at the amount of meringue produced by this recipe; it is indeed substantial. But I find that folks who love meringue pies really want a little pie and a lot of meringue!
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Tis the season for a fish fry!
As I noted last week, the weather really does dictate so much about what you feel like cooking, and this week the rising temperatures down South make me realize that we best take advantage of this time when outside cooking can still be a pleasure rather than a sweaty chore! I admit that you folks who live further north have the advantage; many of y'all will probably grill out throughout the summer in near idyllic weather.
Well, here I have a proposition for something much more fun and exciting than a cookout...how about a fish fry? At the Glass Onion we are known for our fried catfish,and as someone who grew up eating a lot of fried catfish I feel that I can attest to its deliciousness! We are proud to serve the only all natural, farm raised catfish in the United States, which comes from Carolina Classics in North Carolina. Their farming practices yield an especially tasty fish, as does our recipe, which I share below.
In my mind, Memorial Day weekend would be the perfect time for a fish fry!
Fried Catfish
Let's be upfront -- frying seafood at home is just not that easy. This is why in our upcoming cookbook we have chosen to include a recipe, only for fried catfish, versus fried shrimp or oysters. The catfish is a little more forgiving, and it is truly unique because of our mustard marinade. Plus, there are few parties more fun than a fish fry. To turn this into a party, simply double the recipe, fire up your gas camp stove, and set up on your porch or deck. Line the table with old newspapers, and you are in business. The reality is that fried seafood is best straight out of the oil, and the party setting allows you to serve folks immediately. Just be sure to snag a couple of pieces for yourself and have an assistant handy with cold beverages!
2 pounds catfish filets, boneless
1 cup yellow mustard
1 cup Creole mustard, or other whole grain mustard
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups yellow cornmeal
1 1/2 cups corn starch
1 1/2 tablespoons kosher salt
1 tablespoon freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon freshly ground white pepper
1 teaspoon cayenne
Combine catfish, yellow mustard, and Creole mustard in a large bowl and toss with your hands until the catfish is thoroughly coated. Cover and refrigerate for at least 4 and up to 24 hours.
Preheat oven to 200 degrees.
Heat 4 inches of oil to 375 degrees in a large pot. (A skillet can also be used, but the pot helps reduce splattering!)
Combine flour, cornmeal, corn starch, salt, black pepper, white pepper, and cayenne in a large bowl; whisk to combine. Dredge catfish through flour mixture and transfer to a wire rack set over a baking sheet.
Using tongs, carefully drop two filets at a time into oil and fry until breading is very crispy, about 2 minutes per side. Transfer filets to a paper-lined baking sheet, season with additional salt and pepper (to taste), and hold in the oven as you fry the remaining pieces of catfish.
Serve with cocktail, tartar, or remoulade sauce! I'll include our recipe for remoulade below as this classic French sauce (and staple in New Orleans cooking) might not be in your repertoire.
Red Remoulade
Remoulade is a classic French mayonnaise-based sauce. And like many French culinary traditions, it is a staple in the cuisine of south Louisiana. You might toss peeled, boiled shrimp in it for the famed shrimp remoulade salad found on many New Orleans menus. Or you might use it simply as a dipping sauce for our Fried Catfish.
1 cup mayonnaise
¼ cup ketchup
2 tablespoons Creole mustard, or other whole grain mustard
2 tablespoons prepared horseradish
½ teaspoon kosher salt
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/8 teaspoon cayenne
Splash of hot sauce
Combine all ingredients in a medium bowl; whisk until well combined.
YIELD: About 1 1/2 cups (enough to dress 1 pound of peeled, boiled shrimp)
P.S. You can leave out the ketchup, making it "white remoulade" -- a similarly tasty sauce!
Well, here I have a proposition for something much more fun and exciting than a cookout...how about a fish fry? At the Glass Onion we are known for our fried catfish,and as someone who grew up eating a lot of fried catfish I feel that I can attest to its deliciousness! We are proud to serve the only all natural, farm raised catfish in the United States, which comes from Carolina Classics in North Carolina. Their farming practices yield an especially tasty fish, as does our recipe, which I share below.
In my mind, Memorial Day weekend would be the perfect time for a fish fry!
Fried Catfish
Let's be upfront -- frying seafood at home is just not that easy. This is why in our upcoming cookbook we have chosen to include a recipe, only for fried catfish, versus fried shrimp or oysters. The catfish is a little more forgiving, and it is truly unique because of our mustard marinade. Plus, there are few parties more fun than a fish fry. To turn this into a party, simply double the recipe, fire up your gas camp stove, and set up on your porch or deck. Line the table with old newspapers, and you are in business. The reality is that fried seafood is best straight out of the oil, and the party setting allows you to serve folks immediately. Just be sure to snag a couple of pieces for yourself and have an assistant handy with cold beverages!
2 pounds catfish filets, boneless
1 cup yellow mustard
1 cup Creole mustard, or other whole grain mustard
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups yellow cornmeal
1 1/2 cups corn starch
1 1/2 tablespoons kosher salt
1 tablespoon freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon freshly ground white pepper
1 teaspoon cayenne
Combine catfish, yellow mustard, and Creole mustard in a large bowl and toss with your hands until the catfish is thoroughly coated. Cover and refrigerate for at least 4 and up to 24 hours.
Preheat oven to 200 degrees.
Heat 4 inches of oil to 375 degrees in a large pot. (A skillet can also be used, but the pot helps reduce splattering!)
Combine flour, cornmeal, corn starch, salt, black pepper, white pepper, and cayenne in a large bowl; whisk to combine. Dredge catfish through flour mixture and transfer to a wire rack set over a baking sheet.
Using tongs, carefully drop two filets at a time into oil and fry until breading is very crispy, about 2 minutes per side. Transfer filets to a paper-lined baking sheet, season with additional salt and pepper (to taste), and hold in the oven as you fry the remaining pieces of catfish.
Serve with cocktail, tartar, or remoulade sauce! I'll include our recipe for remoulade below as this classic French sauce (and staple in New Orleans cooking) might not be in your repertoire.
Red Remoulade
Remoulade is a classic French mayonnaise-based sauce. And like many French culinary traditions, it is a staple in the cuisine of south Louisiana. You might toss peeled, boiled shrimp in it for the famed shrimp remoulade salad found on many New Orleans menus. Or you might use it simply as a dipping sauce for our Fried Catfish.
1 cup mayonnaise
¼ cup ketchup
2 tablespoons Creole mustard, or other whole grain mustard
2 tablespoons prepared horseradish
½ teaspoon kosher salt
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/8 teaspoon cayenne
Splash of hot sauce
Combine all ingredients in a medium bowl; whisk until well combined.
YIELD: About 1 1/2 cups (enough to dress 1 pound of peeled, boiled shrimp)
P.S. You can leave out the ketchup, making it "white remoulade" -- a similarly tasty sauce!
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Papa's Oyster Stew
Here, in Charleston we are lucky to have some warmer weather thawing us out, but I know that winter still has its hold on the folks up North! And regardless of your geographic location I am sure that everyone could a little gustatory hug as February drags on...
Well, I happen to have the perfect dish -- my father's oyster stew! Of course, you will need some freshly shucked oysters, but even inland states have great seafood markets! Seek one out and try out this simple, elegant dish for your next dinner party.
Papa's Oyster Stew
Every holiday season of my youth my father and I would go buy a Christmas tree together, and then we would buy quarts of freshly shucked oysters to make his famous stew while trimming the tree. Freshly shucked oysters may seem a bit incongruous if you remember that my hometown is the extremely inland hamlet of Columbus, Georgia. But my father's good friends, the Lunsfords, owned Rose Hill Seafood where they brought in oysters straight from Apalachicola, Florida. The flavor of those oysters and especially this stew is the flavor of my childhood.
1 quart shucked oysters and their liquor
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 cups chopped onion (about 1 medium onion)
3 cups milk
1 cup heavy cream
1 teaspoon kosher salt, more to taste
2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper
Oyster crackers, for garnish
Place the oysters in a colander set over a bowl to drain off liquor. Reserve liquor and oysters.
Melt butter in a medium pot over medium heat. When foam subsides, add the onions and cook until translucent, about 10 minutes. Add the reserved oyster liquor and cook until reduced by half, about 10 minutes. Add the milk and cream; bring to a simmer. Add the oysters; cook until their outer edges begin to curl, about 5 minutes. Serve hot with oyster crackers.
YIELD: About 4 entree servings
P.S. The stew might require more salt depending on the salinity of the oysters, but it is best not to oversalt at the outset.
P.P.S. I love a lot of black pepper in creamy dishes like this stew, but feel free to use less than the recommended 2 teaspoons if your palate is sensitive to spice.
Well, I happen to have the perfect dish -- my father's oyster stew! Of course, you will need some freshly shucked oysters, but even inland states have great seafood markets! Seek one out and try out this simple, elegant dish for your next dinner party.
Papa's Oyster Stew
Every holiday season of my youth my father and I would go buy a Christmas tree together, and then we would buy quarts of freshly shucked oysters to make his famous stew while trimming the tree. Freshly shucked oysters may seem a bit incongruous if you remember that my hometown is the extremely inland hamlet of Columbus, Georgia. But my father's good friends, the Lunsfords, owned Rose Hill Seafood where they brought in oysters straight from Apalachicola, Florida. The flavor of those oysters and especially this stew is the flavor of my childhood.
1 quart shucked oysters and their liquor
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 cups chopped onion (about 1 medium onion)
3 cups milk
1 cup heavy cream
1 teaspoon kosher salt, more to taste
2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper
Oyster crackers, for garnish
Place the oysters in a colander set over a bowl to drain off liquor. Reserve liquor and oysters.
Melt butter in a medium pot over medium heat. When foam subsides, add the onions and cook until translucent, about 10 minutes. Add the reserved oyster liquor and cook until reduced by half, about 10 minutes. Add the milk and cream; bring to a simmer. Add the oysters; cook until their outer edges begin to curl, about 5 minutes. Serve hot with oyster crackers.
YIELD: About 4 entree servings
P.S. The stew might require more salt depending on the salinity of the oysters, but it is best not to oversalt at the outset.
P.P.S. I love a lot of black pepper in creamy dishes like this stew, but feel free to use less than the recommended 2 teaspoons if your palate is sensitive to spice.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Memories of Whole Fried Fish
Nothing makes me happier than food memories, and I especially love when diners at the GO share theirs with me. Just last week we ran a whole fried fish for the first time. We were all very excited about the dramatic presentation of this gorgeous, local snapper, and we were especially thrilled when some regulars ordered it for lunch.
After giving them a few minutes, I approached the couple’s table and asked what they thought. They both agreed it was exquisite, and then the gentleman regaled me with the memory this fish elicited. Years ago, they rented a cottage on Long Island overlooking the water. One morning, they witnessed a huge commotion -- a school of blue fish churned the sea. Local fishermen also noticed and came with a seine net. They surrounded the school with the net and hauled in hundreds of fish. The gentleman walked down and asked if he could buy one. “Sure,” replied the fisherman, “One dollar!” The gentleman took the fish back to their cottage, cleaned it and fried it whole for lunch.
His eyes lit up as he told this story, and his wife smiled while listening intently -- two people clearly transported to another time.
After giving them a few minutes, I approached the couple’s table and asked what they thought. They both agreed it was exquisite, and then the gentleman regaled me with the memory this fish elicited. Years ago, they rented a cottage on Long Island overlooking the water. One morning, they witnessed a huge commotion -- a school of blue fish churned the sea. Local fishermen also noticed and came with a seine net. They surrounded the school with the net and hauled in hundreds of fish. The gentleman walked down and asked if he could buy one. “Sure,” replied the fisherman, “One dollar!” The gentleman took the fish back to their cottage, cleaned it and fried it whole for lunch.
His eyes lit up as he told this story, and his wife smiled while listening intently -- two people clearly transported to another time.
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