My dad made up a way he liked to cook halibut when I was a kid. I didn’t like beer battered fish because it sogged up too easily, so for me he modified the concept. Instead of putting beer into the batter and using a wet coating, he would marinate the chunks of fish in a combination of beer and salsa for a couple of hours. Then, he would dip the marinated fish into corn meal seasoned with lemon pepper and cajun seasoning and deep fry that. The first time he made it, we didn’t have tartar sauce, so mom improvised and used coleslaw dressing mixed with more lemon pepper for dipping. From then on, we never had that dish any other way. Everyone I knew loved that preparation. When I got married, I shared that with my husband. When we divorced, I couldn’t afford halibut and he could, and the kids would come to my house with tales of daddy making them fried halibut and I would get SO angry. I told him he couldn’t use that recipe, *I* got it in the divorce! I don’t think he paid any attention.

Anyway, when dad died last month — the very DAY it happened, my ex-husband made a big batch of dad’s fried halibut, just the right way, and brought it to my kids and I. I couldn’t decide whether to be pissed or grateful for a minute so at first, I just cried. But, I knew my dad would want me to be happy and take the gesture as one of kindness and enjoy the meal. So, I did.

So, there. A meal and a story.

For your mom. ❤

I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but I know I want it to be spelled right and punctuated correctly. I guess that’s something.