the story bazaar: Story 3: Fish Tales

I have one of the best possible dilemmas a 20-something brown girl living in Brooklyn can have. How can I eat a little bit better this week to prepare my body for all the wonderful strudel and schnitzel and knedliky and goulash that will all undoubtedly be caressed in a healthy dose of butter? I'm leaving for Eastern Europe in about 24 hours. I only have plans to eat.

Luckily, I live within a 10-minute walk of about three different farm-fresh butchers, organic fruit and vegetable markets and--this really is the best part--Fish Tales.

Fish Tales, Cobble Hill, Brooklyn

Lobster Tank at Fish Tales

The lobster tank greeted me. I noticed the lobsters notice me notice them. "Maybe one day guys, but not today," I thought and walked to the freshest fish in Brooklyn. Sometimes I like to see where this store takes me: Crab cakes, whole red snapper, or even a little lemon sole. Most of the time, I think you should walk in with a game plan. Which fish will grace your kitchen tonight? Do you have a good recipe to go with the fish you choose? Will you take the lazy option of trying one of their deliciously already-prepared dishes? (Me note: Their Manhattan Fish Chowder was actually featured on Throwdown with Bobbly Flay. They won!)

I knew what I wanted: A pound of shrimp for my spicy, Spanish-style gambas. Yum! They even did the icky part, shelled and deveined the shrimp for me, so my shrimp were ready to swim in olive oil, garlic and spices as soon as I got home.

Inside Fish Tales, fresh fish spread

I could probably eat all those shrimps

I handed Alex my card to pay for my shrimp. "Angelina," he said, "Nice to meet you." I politely made conversation back. "Your last name, that sounds Egyptian." I think that makes him about the third person to ever guess my ethnicity--down to the country--correctly. "I grew up in Giza, but I spent all my summers as a kid in Alexandria, where I ate fresh fish like this every single day," I bantered back with him, remembering how the fish bones would terrify me because they reminded me of teeny swords trying to attack my mouth. Luckily, he didn't ask me what kind of fish. Answering with, "The really delicious kind," would've taken away from my story.

Fresh fish and a trip down memory lane? I basically had the best time ever.