Sam here. Yesterday when I woke up I had two very strange cravings: one, for a super cheesy omelet like my mom used to make me for lunch when I was little, and two, for beer-battered fried fish. One of these was much easier to satisfy than the other– on a break in between classes I went out and bought eggs, cheese, and butter (somehow my 6-person apartment was out of all three), and in minutes, had whipped myself up an omelet oozing cheese all over my plate, which filled me up for the rest of the day. But it didn’t satisfy my strange fish craving. I’d actually never made fish before, but that’s not surprising, considering up until a month ago I’d never really cooked anything (successfully). But, fueled with a lot of recent successes between me and Tyler, and choosing to ignore the stomach-shattering failures, I dutifully went out to Trader Joes and bought some cod. The recipe I found online (Gojee is my LIFE, and now that I’ve made Tyler start using it, it’s the basis of a lot of wonderful meals) called for haddock, but cod was on sale for $6, and I’m a typical broke college student, so cod it was. Plus, I mean, I was gonna fry it in beer. We’re not exactly refined foodies here.
Anyway, I was not actually intending to cook for Tyler, but I knew I wasn’t gonna be able to eat all the fish on my own, and also I ran in to Tyler in the hallway after my last class, and also I don’t really do anything with my life without Tyler knowing about it, so he ended up following me up to my room and helping with cooking. Usually, Tyler takes the lead (because he’s super, super bossy), and I do whatever he tells me to, so it was nice to actually order him around for once (kindly. I ordered him around kindly).
We started making the batter first. We probably didn’t beat the egg whites for as long as we were supposed to, but that’s because I gave Tyler that job 😛 I had this terrifying image in my head of me carefully slipping the batter-covered fish fillets in the pot of boiling oil and my entire arm/ kitchen/ building going up in flames, which made the resulting hiss and crackle seem relieving, but also very anti-climactic. The first few fillets I did not coat in batter long enough, so the batter almost immediately sluffed off and fried in little dough-wisps, but by the last fillet (of 5) they actually looked like they were supposed to. I still made my roommates eat the crappy-looking ones though, which they did gratefully, because, hey, food. I just reheated my roommate’s rice, because I’m lazy and she offered, and the peas took like 10 minutes. Frozen peas are the best.
I was very proud of myself.
My roommate snapped this of me and Tyler while making the batter. Nothing could be more indicative of our relationship.