Wilf and I get into a solid argument at least once a day. Usually it’s small stuff, like who cooks most or does the laundry more often. These typically result in one of us giving in, sitting on the couch pouting for 10-15 minutes, and then forgetting it ever happened…until the next time. But sometimes we get into some really good disputes. Take last night for example. We argued for over an hour about sour cream. Well, I guess the sour cream was the catalyst to larger issues, but still, it was amusing. And so, while I will be posting on our recent trip at some point (we had a wonderful time, but it was strange to hear “White Christmas” playing when it was 30+ °C outside), I’m going to make my first entry of the new year about one of our other arguments this week. Well, no, it’s more about traditions. Well, actually it’s mostly about tuna. (Yeah, clearly not much has changed.)
But, before I get into that, I just want to extend major props to those of you who stuck with this sporadic blog for nearly a year. I hope the first week of 2014 has treated everyone well so far.
Typically, when I start writing about the situation regarding the decline of bluefin tuna*—which has been primarily driven by demand from the Japanese sashimi market since the late 1970s—my go-to introductory sentences include the words “luxury”, “expensive”, and “wealthy consumer”. The use of this terminology stemmed from a personal belief that bluefin was part of the upper echelon of gastronomic extravagance: the marine equivalent to a Kobe steak or Périgord truffles. Thus, you can imagine my complete surprise when I was in Tokyo this past month and saw it on the menu of every seafood restaurant in which I ate, or passed on the street. Literally, every single one—from 49th floor fine dining establishments, to curbside take-out lunch stands. I honestly could not believe that this fish was still so ubiquitous and, in many cases, inexpensive, when there is so much international pressure to reduce catches and allow for populations to recover.
I have no doubt that fall and winter will probably provide some excellent stormy days on which I can write something in a warm coffee shop. However, summer on the coast has been dynamite, and it physically pains me to be inside and/or staring at a screen on any sunny day. But, since I am trying to make this blogationship with WordPress a success, today I am caving in. (On the bright side, I’m sitting in the courtyard just outside Mink, and there is a very talented girl playing a violin. So life isn’t totally unbearable.)
salt heart | wet coast 