Dear friends who read me (do not know if be one in this August boiling or soaking, depending on where you look "). I thought, something that sometimes happens but then I hurt the dendrites of habit, that fish and edible subgenera were a proper subject for a warm summer afternoon (dear people of the southern hemisphere, and you know you are congelándoos, but make or not, think and enjoy next January). Serve splendid photo sturgeon, which have in a tank in Moscow GUM store, as cover.
To me, why should I lie, rather than the fish I like fish, well preparaditos, grilled, fried, baked on skewers ... but this does not mean that I mayest live specimens, in fact, years ago (many, rediez), a girlfriend gave me a tank with goldfish were baptized inmediantemente Zinoviev and Kamenev (things of the young and the "Zeitgeist" of the time). The poor overnight commit suicide by jumping from the tank while his trusted owner (MEND) slept soundly. Since then, only I care about the fish that are ready to be consumed, as I said before.
On the topic, I'll mention two books that have changed my life. The first is a incunable not think you can easily find today. I bought it in Veracruz and taught me many things, such as different names of fish in each site, in addition to many interesting recipes, such as red snapper in the Veracruz and more:
The second I bought it in London, "Borders" (for once was in Waterstone's). This maybe what you can find. It is interesting, examines the history of cod fishing from a historical and sociological view. Account, for example, that "arrantzales" chasing Basques Newfoundland cod reached long before Columbus, but fell silent as dead so that no one stepped on fisheries:
One issue that has always interested me and I do not stop if I have time to visit when traveling, are the fisheries. In other blog entries and I have put photos of fishmongers in Helsinki and in Cape Verde. I'm not going to repeat, which is getting this post pesadota and are about ten photos. For example:
A fish market in Almaty (Kazakhstan). I still dream of the fishmongers in some warm nights. So smiling, so immortalized, so obviously sympathetic, and that they did not buy anything.
A fishmonger in Trouville (Normandy). There, they have everything, designed especially for those coming from Paris weekend (Deauville-Trouville is a traditional site for the Paris vacation) and I will prepare a frigolite box with ice. I was not going to Paris, but from Brussels, but nevertheless sold me a good turbot and langoustines well packaged.
Selling Colchester oysters in the tower London, beside the Thames. Delicious, God help me.
A supernercado in Tokyo. As shown, human contact is not his forte. You can not tell the fishmonger: "Ehhhh, Manu, I pongah that Bisho, to Tie the eye could"
The fish of "Harrods" in London. Although not go to buy anything, once you've seen the kitsch of the monument dedicated to Diana and Dodo the Fayed, do not miss stopping by the "food hall". They are spectacular.
The cod boutique in Madrid. I have never entered, but I've always liked his appearance.
And finally, here is the picture of a fish shop in Brussels. You must imagine what nationality is the owner. I must say that I took the picture a few days of the World Cup, not all year and passed.
and nothing else, I think for now, enough is enough. You'll have a good weekend.
Fisherman Blues. The Waterboys
