Steamed Soy And Ginger Fish

[wcm_nonmember]<!– –><div style="text-align: center"><!– –><img src="" alt="" scale="0" style="max-width: 30%; margin-top: 20px"><!– –><!– –><h2><!– –>Unlock this Story<!– –></h2><!– –><p style="padding-bottom:25px"><!– –>Stories from the 'Bucket List' book are only available to members<!– –></p><!– –><a class="et_pb_button" background-color: #ffffff"<!– –>href="/product/digital-club-membership/">join the club</a><!– –></div><!– –><!– –>[/wcm_nonmember]<!– –><!– –>[wcm_restrict]<!– –><!– –><div class="page" title="Page 44"><!– –><div class="section"><!– –><div class="layoutArea"><!– –><div class="column"><!– –><!– –><p>You always remember the first time you try durian, but when you try soy and ginger fish on the same day and that’s the thing that really stays with you, then you know it must be something to shout about. For Lucas, it was the <b>combination of aroma and texture and taste</b>. His grandma served the dish with sticky rice and steamed Chinese sausage on the side.</p><!– –><!– –><p>There is a real story behind this dish that Lucas can remember distinctly 25 years later. His Chinese grandmother and very English grandfather left the far east after living in Hong Kong and Malaysia, where his father grew up. In the late 80s, they moved into a modest house in suburban Nottingham, UK. The kitchen was very much his grandma's domain and felt like it had been transported from a <b>Hong Kong apartment in the 60s</b>. Along the counter were various tools and contraptions of assorted shapes, colours, sizes and materials, all neatly stowed of course, and none more important than the rice cooker, worn by use but as reliable as ever; he doesn’t think he remembers being in that kitchen and it not being on.</p><!– –><!– –><p>There were glass jars of various dried things and old coffee pots of others, all alien to Lucas then but very familiar now. The rice-cooker became a serving dish, the lid lifted, the steam wafting into his face carrying with it the smell of fresh sticky rice and garlicky Chinese sausage that had been placed on top to heat through. Then the fish, of course; the <b>sweet, salty, gingery smell of the fish</b>, its eye cooked and opaque staring up at him, it being flaked apart and being made to try it. He even remembers the tap of chopsticks on the table, and clatter of Chinese spoon on the melamine plate. What once was a house that smelt of dried fruit, incense and imperial leather now smelt gloriously of fresh spice, soy and garlic.</p><!– –><!– –><p>He hasn’t had the dish more than twice since the last time his late grandma cooked it. Lucas suspects the recipe is simply a whole white freshwater or saltwater fish, steamed with ginger, garlic and spring onions, with soy and chilli sauce on the side.</p><!– –><!– –><p>Lucas <b>wouldn’t change the dish in any way</b>. In fact he’d go the opposite way and keep refining it until it was exactly as he remembered it, though there are ways to personalise the recipe. He says that fish, especially whole, is something that is not cooked enough in the UK but something so easy that it should be enjoyed more often.</p><!– –><!– –></div><!– –></div><!– –></div><!– –></div><!– –><!– –>[/wcm_restrict]