Glad to hear, that you’d, conquered your fears from long, long ago, now, you just need to, get honed up on your basic skills in preparing fish, translated…
As I was growing up, I’d followed my dad in his multiple wonder trips of dining experiences, this not only made me into an even pickier eater, I was able to state out the ways to make the dishes, it’d made me looked bad, compared to my parents who were both, amazing cooks. Whether my parents were hosting a meal, or cooking for the New Year’s, my father took over, but, everything like the cakes for the occasions, the radish cakes, the year cakes, the other sorts of celebratory food items, they were, my mom’s specialties, she’s amazing at making these, the looks of the foods, delicious, taste, unbelievably good, and, following them around, I’d, carrying on the duties of the hostess.
On the year I’d turned twelve, dad gave me the sweet-and-sour fish used for the “Left Over Every Year” to me, he wanted to see how good I was, with the multiple years of “trainings” I’d had with him. Turning on the stove, as the oils heated up, the fish, swam into the wok, as dad left me alone in the kitchen, I’d become, flustered. What are the steps, to frying fish again? When should I, flip it over onto the other side? I’d searched hard, for my dad’s familiar, skillful method of cooking in the past, but, found none, I’d gotten amnesia before the stove now, and, a fish got friend, to many bits and pieces, it’d died such a, tragic death.
The following year, my younger brother by three years volunteered to make the sweet and sour fish, as my dad looked over at me, then, at him, “Can you manage it?”, hey! This kid not only fried the fish to a golden crisp, he’d gotten the dipping sauce just right, even the pineapple shrimp balls were, chewy and juicy, it was, delicious, dad finally has someone whom he could pass his cooking skills down too, hooray, fireworks! But, he’d sighed, “the pigs didn’t get fat, instead, it was the dog who got big!”, and ever since, I’d become, my younger brother’s sous chef.
As my mother-in-law was younger, she was, a head chef, so naturally, her cooking skills were, undebatable, and I was a, great cook, only in theory, and, so, she’d, supposed that I can actually, cook as well as I’d talked, but not even close, and my mother-in-law forgot to “make sure”, and handed her son to me.
The third month after we were wed, my mother-in-law brought over two fish from the seas home, said, “Long loved the ginger fish soups, this fish is still very fresh, make some for him tonight, add more cooking wine.”, left me, in a panic.
Holy! Not fish again!
Fish soups doesn’t need any frying, it shouldn’t be too hard on me, I’d sliced up the ginger, poured in some rice wine, before I scoop it up and put it into bowl, add some green onions for flavor, the two fish lay flat, in one piece, success! But, as my husband came home, he’d become, dumbfounded, before he started praising me, I’d started, boasting, “Delicious and nutritious fish soup, not pale by comparison to that famous fish soup from Tainan!”
It surely, was nutritious, but, the fish wasn’t gutted!
Well, look on the bright side, at least, you’d, conquered your past fears of dealing with fish, you just need a little EXTRA practice in cooking the various fishes, and you will, eventually, be good at it. This showed how much childhood experiences impacted someone, but, it also showed, how if you’re willing, to give it a shot, then, you can, overcome your childhood experiences eventually, with the right measures being taken…