Food memories

I know-- scary looking thing. It's a smoked whitefish from the Great Lakes. I got it last week at Costco, and not something you see often in the land of smoked salmon.

Anyway, John and I have the same childhood memories about our first taste of smoked whitefish. The ferry ride to Mackinac Island (and more likely) the smoked fish made Michigan memorable. I don't remember much else about the trip. Our family would have camped or stayed with friends, but there is a famous grand hotel on the island:

While waiting for the ferry, our fathers' must have bought some whitefish from a vendor, because we ate it in the car. It was wrapped in plain brown paper, and I remember looking over the back seat of the Suburban watching my mother dole it out to three drooling kids. I never forgot how delicious that salty morsel was. John didn't either. You have to realize what antiques we've become. Back in the 1950's, a taste of smoked fish was incredibly exotic.

So here I am, all grown up with a whole fish of my own. Talk about abundance. Anyway, I dispatched the head, fins, tail and skin, then lifted off big chunks and pulled out the bones. Not as much work as it sounds. There was quite a bit of finger licking.

We ate some of it for lunch with salad, crackers and cream cheese. And yes, it was good. But can anything ever replace the taste of childhood memory?

Maybe it was the brown paper wrapping.