Striped Bass

Continued story from 'Hot Fudge Sundae's' . . .

After Nate and I left Ghiradelli Square we turned down Van Ness Avenue going south. I said. "Naty, do you want to go down the crookedest street in the world?!" And of course what do you think a seven year old boy would say, "Yeahh, that would be cool!". "Alright, lets go!", I said as I turned upward onto Lombard Street. We both admired all the beautiful homes as we ascended, finally getting to the top of the hill. The view was crystal clear and we could see Mt. Diablo. The grid pattern of the San Francisco landscape rolled out below us like a tapestry. Coit Tower, the Bay Bridge and little neighborhoods were all in perfect alignment. Lombard Street had the blooming hydrangas in full force- light blues, pinks and purple bubble-like gum flowers. Nate was awed by this experience, he even commented on the pretty houses lining the street. He wanted to park and get out to walk the street. I explained that no one is allowed to stop on the crookest street in the world. When we got to the bottom Nate wanted to do it again, but I said we need to go to Chinatown to get some fish and vegetables.
We went directly to Montgomery Street into the heart of the real Chinatown. Not many tourists in this area. As we were driving there we passed alot of appartments that had clothes strung on ropes between houses just like a scene from Italy. "Auntie Kristi, look, theres somebodys' underwear", my little Nephew observed. And they were the biggest men's briefs I'd ever seen. We ended up parking at the top of a hill, I had to remember how to turn the tires into the curb correctly. Nate and I made our way through the heavy street population into the produce market. Since there is little sense of personal space we were upclose with the ladies haggeling over vegetables. It was somewhat easy keeping an eye on blond haired Nate. I gave him the lechee nuts, basil and lemon grass to carry as we made our way to the fish market. The first fish market we went into had crates of l big live snapping turtles, frogs and aquariums loaded with fish. The fish monger was yelling at a customer, it was hot and congested, so we left and went to the next fish store two doors down. The second store was much more pleasant, clean, air conditioned and calm. The fish in the tanks looked clean. Nate was amazed at all the tanks bubbling about. He loved the catfish in particular. I pointed to two striped bass I thought looked good. The fish man got his net and scooped them out, put them on the floor for my approval where Nate was standing. Then with my nod he grabbed the wooden club and wacked the fish on the head. Hopefully it was quick and painless for for our little friends. Nate was speechless. I personally think it is good for people to know where thier food comes from and some of the processes involved. Our over-sanititized American culture misses this point. The fish monger put the fish on the wooden chopping block and cleaned them. Nate had never wittnesed such an event so closely. He was impressed with all the fish guts at the back of the board. I've never known him to be so quiet for so long. We talked about this all the way home to the Bay Area hills. We ended up grilling the bass the next day at our Thai meal feast. When we asked Nate if he liked the fish, he said,"No, not really". Oh well, the experience was worth it.