I love him like I love Fresca.

So... my boyfriend is pretty much obsessed with fish. Not quite Troy McLure-obsessed, but almost. In spite of living in the Midwest, where there are decidedly few opportunities for actual delicious seafood, he craves it constantly. There is pretty much never a time when there isn't some fish sitting in our freezer, waiting to be cooked by me for his tummy. He could be content to have a fishy-centric supper every day of the week, and probably some lunches and breakfasts too.

Now, I like fish, but mostly because I've recently discovered that it doesn't taste like gross, which is the opinion my mother holds. Having grown up knowing that opinion, I shared it until my boyfriend shared with me the joyous experience of sushi (something a Japanophile like me cannot resist for love or money or even a nice juicy steak). So, I like fish, and go out of my way for a nice sushi meal, but there's still a part of me that is aware of when the fish isn't cooked to its full potential.

As I am most frequently the cook in question, this is problematic. On the one hand, I have this wonderful but crazy man interested in salmon, and perch, and hali-butt, and all sorts of other things he finds at the grocery store. And on the other, there's me, asking... "How the fuck am I going to cook that and not turn it into utter fail?" The only method I've had any real success with is baking it with a combination of spices that I discovered on one recipe website or another; and even then, it's touch-and-go (I too often overcook it, which makes it dry and awful). So often, Nick and I will be standing in front of the freezer doors, and he'll ask, "Do you think you can cook sole?"

Sure, I can cook sole. I don't have a recipe right off the top of my head, but I can find one. I've found that AllRecipes.com has a pretty good selection, and being able to read comments by folks who've tried these recipes is also helpful. But no amount of incredible, easy-to-make recipes for outstanding types of fish can overcome my ability to totally fuck shit up.

I'm lucky he'll eat anything no matter how crappy it tastes. And I need to figure out how to broil shit, just for a change of pace.

Woe, woe, woe!

I made my second excursion to the local library today, having finished the three books I'd joyously acquired on my first trip. Today I made a more serious exploration of the library and discovered that it was not as magical a place as I'd previously imagined. Woe, for the paperback section is startlingly small; many of the books I have long-hoped to track down and immerse myself in are not to be found!

It was with a great deal of dismay that I wandered through the shelves today, searching for authors that I am at least currently familiar with. The collections I found were either nonexistent, woefully incomplete (often to the point of being diminished by my own collection). Today I was in luck. I found three thick books to take home with me, but future trips will have to be more planned out. I cannot go back and simply hope to discover.

Still, it's better than running through my own stale collection again and again.

I'd call that joy.

Library cards are magical things. They bring magic into my life.

Whoops!