i went with some friends to a huge fish market tonight--stall after stall of fishmongers lining a long street. it was a fantastic experience: we selected our own seafood, bargained a bit, and then walked to the end of the street where we paid a restaurant to cook our finds. all for less than $10 per person.
the fish market is a chaotic place - the floors are wet with water, fish guts and mysterious grime; the vendors' constant shouting back and forth punctuated by the ripping of packing tape and the clatter of crates; bicycle carts lugging cages of crabs and towers of styrofoam containers weaving through crowds. this place is open 24 hours--imagine this constant hustle and bustle all day and night.
i love how fish look lying on their beds of ice: the flounders displayed like silver discs, pink salmon fillets nestled like fleshy bricks in a field of white, long ribbon fish dangling from tables like iridescent belts...almost as adornments rather than seafood.
my favorite find tonight was this little tub of golden fishies, their heads pointed resolutely up, some with their mouths open in mid-speech (or mid-song?):
i couldn't stop staring at this tub, and i had to take a picture. there was something about this image that was so arresting - like a scene from dante's inferno. they're like souls crying out from some pit, stuck in abysmal despair.or perhaps they are not lamenting at all but singing - a heavenly chorus of little golden fishes with voices that ring like crystal, tiny notes wafting to the skies.
cups of coffee: 2
mood: STUFFED from a great seafood dinner
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