A Fish Story

This is a story of a fish named Steve.

Annie and I went out to Kowloon Restaurant this past weekend. If you've never been, it's kind of a all-Asian restaurant. It has Szechuan, Polynesian, Hong Kong, Thai, Sushi, Cantonese, and even some American dishes. As such, the menu is huge (it's numbered, and the highest number I noticed was in the 500s). After quick some deliberation, I decided upon a Thai dish called Plu Ray Fish, or something like that. The dish contained fish with a hot pepper sauce, something that sounded delicious and different. Annie ordered some sort of chicken and vegetable dish, and we ordered an appetizer plate. The appetizers were great. Then, without fanfare, enter Steve, stage left.

I apologize for the poor photo quality; my cell phone camera sucks.

Apparently, I had neglected to read the entire description of the entree, specifically the part that read "whole fish". And so it came to Steve, on my plate, staring back at me in my seat.

Suffice it to say, I'm not a big fan of fish bones in my fish, and I lacked the eating skills to adequately separate meat from bone.