Fish heads, fish heads, roly poly fish heads...

... fish heads, fish heads, eat them up YUM!

Well, that's what Cohen *would* have done if we'd let him!

A little story: Cohen is obsessed with fish. When we go to the grocery store, if he catches sight of a whole fish at the fish counter, he wants me to buy it. He's not happy with nice little fillets - no, he wants the whole fish, head and all. Guess that's boys for you.

So a few days ago when we were in the Chinese marketplace near our house and had stopped at the fish section so that the kids could check out the live crabs and lobsters and assorted shelled and finned beasties, Cohen started asking for a fish. There was a variety of whole fish to choose from, amongst them Pickerel. I had never cooked a Pickerel before, but as they are rumoured to be the "tastiest of the freshwater fish," I decided to give one a try.

The guy at the fish counter scaled and gutted it for me (thank you!) and after he handed me the bagged fish body, Cohen insisted on holding it. He held on to that bag all through the store - "my fishie!!" - and I swear I caught him cradling it like a baby. LOL

Upon our arriving at home, Cohen wanted to eat it NOW. I told him it was for tomorrow's supper, and after the fit that resulted from the fish being put into the fridge, Cohen was content to simply talk about the fish. Non stop.

When we woke up the next day, the first thing Cohen asked for was the fish. "Can we have it for breakfast?" "No, hon, it's for supper." "Oh, OK. Mom, I think I want to eat his tail." "Alright then." "Mom, I think I want to eat his head." "Um, you can't really eat his head, hon." And on it went throughout the day.

Fast forward to supper time. I get the fish out of the fridge, wash it up, attempt to debone it (key word being attempt... I think it's much easier to do after the fish is cooked - will try it that way next time) and get it in the oven. As we sit down to eat, Cohen requests the head. I tell him that he can't eat the head, but he can eat the fish that is on his plate. "No," he says, "I want the head here. I want him to watch me!"

Um.... ok, that's a little creepy... LOL

 

So, I complied. I put the creepy baked head on a plate and brought it in to the dining room. (Am I fuelling a future serial killer? haha) I'm sure that at the age of three and a half he doesn't exactly grasp the concept that he wanted the head of the dead and cooked fish to witness his flesh being eaten. Only the two grown-ups at the table understood the creepiness of the request. Cohen, in his innocence, was simply being a gross boy.

He even talked to it...

Then Laurel wanted a turn...



Wee friggers even argued about who would have a turn next!

So there you have it. Our strange family (well, our strangeass kids!)

For the record, Pickerel isn't all that great. We'll stick with Trout and Salmon. And I still can't get that song out of my head... ♪ ♫ Fish heads, fish heads, roly poly fish heads, fish heads, fish heads, eat them up YUM! ♫ ♪