Trout and Memories

What a treat this weekend; local Pyrenees trout for a Euro a piece, and each one sitting on its own plastic tray.  I'm not normally one for plastic packaging, but these trays make quite serviceable seed trays, once I've punched some holes in the bottom.  I'm also quite partial to the perforated clear plastic boxes that peaches and nectarines are often sold in.  Two of those will sit side by side on the fish trays, so not only am I buying fish or fruit, but a little greenhouse, too.  Perfect for our frugal French life.



I love a good trout, or even a not so good one.  Despite being farmed, they never have the flabby fatty flesh of their more popular cousins, the salmon.  And, anyway I have a special soft spot for grilled or fried trout.  This probably sounds nuts, but trout with almonds is the very first thing I can remember eating, and set in motion a life-long love for good things of the culinary ilk.

I guess I must have been 11 or 12 years old.  I do know it was my first trip abroad, my first trip to France (obviously) and my first memorable meal.  OK, so my foodie parents had ensured birthdays were celebrated in style.  I know where we went, but I don't actually remember these events.  If I cast my mind way back, I can picture gasometers in Gravesend, seen when I could have been no more than three.  But somehow food had to that point in time made no lasting impression.  And then there was that trout.

I can clearly picture a dark and gloomy hotel dining room, black furniture stacked with white crockery, and a flight of stairs glimpsed through a doorway.  We were probably staying up those stairs, but I have no memory beyond that room.  I do recall being both horrified and intrigued at the idea of eating fish with nuts.  How weird must that taste?  Utterly delicious and memorable, that's how weird.  And the blackcurrant sorbet that followed was mouth curlingly cracking, too.

So if trout is on offer, I'm going to have to have it.  Sadly frugality doesn't stretch to the almonds as well, but the pink fir apple spuds, grilled patty pan squash dressed with olive oil and lemon, and braised Florence fennel from the garden all made up for that. 

Maybe we should plant an almond tree?