The Best Fish I Never Ate

In 1987 and 1988, my brother Jerry and his wife Donna were working as missionaries in Kenya.  In October of 1987, their first son, Jonathan, was born there.  Since Jonathan was my parents' first grandchild, we were all anxious to meet this new addition to the family.  So we decided to have our family Christmas in Africa that year, and all but my brother Jeff flew to Kenya for the holidays.

We had a grand time.  I got to visit with some old friends (this was my second trip to Kenya; my first trip had been four years earlier) and meet new ones.  We all experienced the warm welcome and generosity of the Kenyan people and of course saw some spectacular sights and amazing wildlife.

While there, we took a real tourist vacation to the ocean.  About 30 km. south of Mombasa there's a lovely beach called Diani Beach.  We rented a villa there for three days.  It was a wonderfully relaxing time.  We were right on the beach at the Indian Ocean.  There was a coral reef a few hundred feet out, and we took a small wooden boat out there to look at the sea creatures on the reef. 

We were informed that local people could be hired to cook and clean for us while we were there.  So we hired a local man by the name of Sam who worked for us for the princely sum of 50 shillings (about $4-$5 U.S.) for the entire time we were there.  Sam was terrific.  He would show up early in the morning.  If we were not up yet, he would wash the car or do the laundry and hang it up to dry.  And then he would cook three meals a day for us.  We loved the delicious tropical fruits, and had made a visit to a local market to buy some - mangoes, papayas, passion fruit, bananas, pineapples - and we asked Sam to make us a big bowl of fruit salad for breakfast.  Well, we ate the entire bowl.  And we asked for more fruit salad for lunch.  I believe we ended up eating a big bowl of fruit salad at every meal he fixed for us!  Sam seemed a little amused at our love for his fruit salad.  But it was really delicious.  At the end of our time, we gave him 75 shillings instead of the 50 he has asked for.  He seemed overwhelmed by our generosity, but we felt a little cheap.

When we had been to town to pick up the fresh fruit, we had to, of course, bargain in the market for the fruit.  Jerry told us that we got cheated, and we had paid far too much.  It didn't seem like much to us, but Jerry and Donna had long since gotten over the charm of the bargaining system, and of the fact that prices were higher for them than they were for the locals, simply because of the color of their skin.  They had become ruthless bargainers.

And so, one morning, a local boy came to our door, peddling his wares.  And what he had that morning was a single, huge, spectacularly beautiful, deep blue parrot fish. 

If my recollection is correct, the fish he had was even bluer than the one in this photograph.  It was beautiful.  It was obviously very fresh - the eyes were bright, and it looked as thought it had been caught only minutes before.  It was huge - at least a foot long, thick and meaty, and more than enough to feed all of us.  I wanted that fish for my supper.  And Donna came out, and began bargaining with the boy.  He gave her his starting price, and she gave him one much lower.  He came down a little, and she went up a little.  On they went, until the boy reached his limit.  He refused to come down any farther.  And Donna refused to go up any farther.  At this point, they were only three shillings apart.  But Donna said, "No!" and shooed the boy away with a dismissive wave of the hand.  He left on his bicycle, with that gorgeous fish still in his basket.  I was too stunned to call him back and tell him that I'd be happy to pay the 3 shillings.

"But Donna!"  I exclaimed, "You were only 3 shillings apart!  That's A QUARTER!!!" 

"It doesn't matter," she snapped, "It's the principle of the thing."

"But I wanted that fish," I whimpered to myself.

I never did find out how parrot fish tasted.  It was the best fish I never ate.

If I had a fish like that today, I'd probably debone it and stuff it.  As a matter of fact, I prepared a red snapper much this way for the rehearsal dinner for Jerry and Donna's wedding.

Baked fish stuffed with seafood

1 large 3-5 lb. whole striped bass (called "rock fish" in Maryland), red snapper, or parrot fish (if your sister-in-law hasn't driven too hard a bargain)
6 medium or 12 small shrimp
6 scallops (or 1/4 lb. small bay scallops)
1 cup crab meat
2 T chopped parsley
2 T chopped onion
1/4 cup chopped celery
2 cups soft bread crumbs
1/2 cup melted butter
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp Old Bay seasoning (if you can't get Old Bay where you live, use another seafood seasoning, or a combination of cayenne pepper, black pepper, celery salt, and thyme)
Salt and pepper


Debone the fish.  It's not as hard as it sounds, and it makes for easier serving and eating.  Here's how to do it.

The fish will have a slit in its belly where it was cleaned.  Extend that slit all the way from the head to the tail.  Doing so exposes the backbone.  On the front half of the backbone, rib bones extend down the sides of the fish.  Using your fingers and a small, sharp knife, pry those rib bones away from the flesh of the fish, all the way up to the backbone.  Once all the rib bones are loose, use the same technique to loosen the backbone, and pry it away from the flesh of the fish.  Now, grab the fish's head at the gills, and gently snap it backwards so that it separates from the backbone, and do the same thing with the tail.  Now you should be able to lift away the entire backbone and rib bones in one piece.  Carefully feel the fish to ensure all the bones have been removed.  If you find any, pull them out with a pair of tweezers.  The fish is now ready to be stuffed.

Preheat oven to 400°, or fire up the grill.

Peel and devein the shrimp.  If using the 6 large scallops, cut them into halves.  Pick through the crab meat to ensure any pieces of shell have been removed.

In a small skillet, saute the onion and celery in about 1/4 cup of melted butter.  When the vegetables are soft, add them to the soft bread crumbs, parsley and seasonings, and toss until well distributed.  Now, add the seafood and mix carefully so as not to bruise the shellfish.

Spread a double thickness of aluminum foil on the bottom of a long, shallow baking dish, big enough to accommodate the entire fish.  Be sure to use enough foil to be able to wrap the entire fish.  Pour about half the remaining melted butter onto the aluminum foil, and smear it around (this is to prevent the fish from sticking to the foil).

Open the fish and sprinkle the insides with salt and pepper.  Lay the fish in the baking dish and loosely pack the stuffing into the fish.  Fold the fish over the stuffing.  There's no need to tie it, because the foil will hold it together.  Pour the remaining melted butter over the top of the fish.  Now, fold the foil over the fish, and seal it with a double lengthwise fold.  Tuck the ends of the foil under the fish.

Place the fish in the middle of the preheated oven, or carefully lift it onto the grill, and close the grill cover.  Bake for 45 minutes.

Take the fish out of the oven and let it rest for 10 minutes, still sealed in the foil.  (If you are cooking on the grill, be careful to use two lifters to remove the fish to a serving platter.  Remember, it's boneless, and will fall apart easily.)

Remove the fish to a serving platter.  Carefully open the foil, and use scissors to trim the foil down to the edge of the platter.  Do not attempt to lift the fish out of the foil - it will fall apart.

Cut the fish into slices, and serve.  Serves 6.

Here's a picture of my wonderful sister-in-law Donna serving her famous turkey soup on the day after Thanksgiving.  I've long since forgiven her for the fish incident.