Here is a little story about Fugu and my strange fascination for it.
When I was little, my parents took me fishing. Fishing was not a normal activity we did as a family. And from what memory, I only went fishing a handful of times, which made it even more special I guess.
Anyway, on one of those unusual occasions, Appa let me hold the fishing road for some time and I ended up catching a what-the-6yo-old-me=thought-as stone.
It was actually a Fugu.
Amma got very excited and went on explaining to me about the stone-like fish.
That it was a Pufferfish (Fugu) and that it’d puff itself if poked. She then told me to go ahead and poke it with my hand (which, apparently, is a not something you should do).
The 6yo old me did it, because why wouldn’t I?
And yes it puffed! Eventually, we then let it loose, back to the ocean because, as Appa said:
“We don’t eat Pufferfish”.
At that time it made sense to me because it was small and looked so ugly.
But then I grew up, went to Japan and learned all about the Fugu dining experience. That fueled my childhood fascination for it.
Is it weird that I kinda want to finish the cycle — of catching, letting go and learning more about it — by eating Fugu?
Ps. On the same note, I also fished and learned about jellyfish on that day. Which I ended up eating in Beijing. Curiosity satiated. Fugu will be next. It’s on my bucket-list.