Uh...fish?

I thought I had outgrown it - but the taste made me shudder and for a second I was sitting at the dining room table again, long after everyone else had been excused, with a plate of fish in front of me.  Although I am sure that my memory exaggerates...the plate heaped with fish, and it was so late that the windows looked pitch black.  I can vaguely see my little sister, with wet hair and wrapped in a bathrobe, peeking in to see if I was still sitting there.  Hours I sat at that table, I'm convinced, though I've no memory of how this standoff ended.  

I was miserable.  My Mom and Dad were making a point.  Fish was good and good for you - everyone liked it, especially those living in England (which we were at the time).  But to me, fish had a terrible taste and a really bad smell.  I believe that I developed a distaste for fish during the time that I lived near my Irish grandfather.  His favorite meal (which we often ate when we visited him) was creamed cod fish.  Because of tradition (I have to imagine) he always bought dried salted cod - and my aunt turned this into a nasty smelling goop consisting mostly of a thick white sauce with chunks of fish. One whiff of the wooden box that the dried cod came in and my stomach turned. 

So, tonight's catfish chunks looked good, but had that taste that I associate with creamed codfish - and I just couldn't eat anymore.  Fortunately, the cook felt the same...and the catfish will not be served again. 

Now, if it were salmon....Yum.