Something's Fishy, Ishii!

Ishii and I were hungry after walking more than a mile from Maborikaigan to the Yokosuka Museum of Art. We decided to have lunch in the museum's fancy Italian restaurant before checking out the exhibits. Ishii ordered something that sounded and looked like curry but I decided to splurge on the pasta set because I was famished and 'set' translates to three courses, dessert (insert smiley face here) included.

Which pasta did I want? There were three choices but no pictures. The waiter described the options, Ishii translated, and by listening very carefully I ruled out the one with mushrooms and the one with cream sauce. "White fish sounds good," I decided.

Ishii coaxed me through the appetizer course. She must have been an incredible teacher. She is patient and informative and encouraging. "The octopus will be chewy but good. You can do it." So I did and she was right.

When the waiter placed the pasta in front of me, I was pleasantly surprised to see a generous sprinkling of shredded mozzarella cheese on top. Mmmm, and freshly ground black pepper as well.

But something seemed a bit off when I started stirring the pasta with my fork. How did the chef manage to place just one tiny nugget of black pepper on each narrow shred of mozzarella?

Those were tiny white fish staring at me reproachfully, nay blackly. Salty little buggers and I know this for a fact because I managed to swallow almost half of them before I took Ishii up on her offer to swap entrees.

For once, lunch was not the highlight of my day. The walk along the bay, the exhibits of Pre-Raphaelite paintings and William Morris designs and Rokuro Taniuchi magazine covers, the bus ride back to the center of town, and the carefully translated map Ishii provided all contended for that honor. There's never a dull moment when I'm with Ishii. I am thankful for all the experiences we've shared, including those salty little white fish.

Today she's coming over to show me how to transform the craft kits I've been buying for the past few years into Christmas presents for the Ancient Mariner and other long-suffering loved ones. This should be interesting.