for the love of cream

 

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I felt like fish on Tuesday night. After our run, sweaty and gross, we stopped into Loblaws and picked up some halibut on sale. Even though it was the cheapest fish at the seafood counter, at about $6, it’s a more “expensive” meal, considering that doesn’t make leftovers. But, I digress.

We decided to bake the fish, then top with a sauce. Now, sauce means cream sauce if Graham’s in the kitchen. I’m more of a non-cream user. I don’t think you really need it. To me, cream is a crutch. To Graham, it’s the only kind of sauce to make. He started out with a chopped tomato, capers and caper juice, with herbs in the frying pan, just warming. I got the fish on tin foil, in the oven, the potatoes boiling (Graham) and the frozen roll warming (me). Then, the sour cream made an appearance. Before I could object… into the pan it went. I teased Graham that his favourite colour is salmon pink… the colour that everything turns when cream is added. I don’t know his exact words, but it went something like this: you’ll love it when you eat it.

I ate my words, once again.

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