Blue-Backed Fish Set
Sometimes, you just crave a perfectly grilled fish.
"Excuse me, are you alright? Your eyes suddenly glazed over."
"Ah, sorry about that. Um... we'll take responsibility for this part—"
...It's absolutely not because this client reeks of perfectly grilled fish. Absolutely not.
Lunchtime's over, so I let my guard down...
Fishy smell. No, not fishy—it's that rich, savory aroma that's almost fishy. Even though I'd stuffed myself at lunch, my stomach growls again at this devilish scent.
Grilled fish. Grilled fish. Maybe grilled fish for dinner tonight.
...Personally, fish is kind of a hassle as an ingredient. Whether you grill it, steam it, boil it, or make a stew, those bones get in the way. As a kid, I was terrible with chopsticks and kept getting bones stuck in my throat, so once I grew up a bit, I fell hard for heftier, easier meats instead. Even now, it's not my favorite.
But sometimes the urge hits out of nowhere. A sudden craving for grilled fish. When you miss that unique fish flavor you don't get from pork, beef, or chicken.
Hmm...
But like I said, fish is a hassle. Great for home cooking, but the smell's an issue. Mess it up, and the stench spreads from your room to the whole building. Meat smells are one thing, but grilled fish can turn brutally pungent if you're not careful. Half a year ago, I actually got an earful from the neighbors for grilling stinky fish at home. Come to think of it, that time I had the same random craving as now.
But eating out feels... iffy. Not a price thing. It's more like... personal pride, I guess? Like I mentioned, I was bad at deboning fish as a kid. And yeah, even now, I hesitate to order fish in public. What if people laugh at how I eat it...? That vague fear.
Of course, I know most folks don't care how I eat. And I know it's pathetic to worry about this at my age. But knowing that doesn't make the dread go away.
That's why I grilled fish at home half a year ago.
"It's harder to fix at my age anyway... Hmm..."
Habits get tougher to break as you get older. Face? Stamina? Who knows. Whatever the excuse, it's true—they're harder to shake.
But thinking it over like this, it hits me: now's the perfect time to conquer this fear. If not now, it'll be too late.
"...Alright. Fish it is tonight."
Food's amazing like that—one ingredient off the table, and your options shrink dramatically. Meaning, if I can't get over this fish phobia now, I'll miss out on half the joys of fine eating forever.
Better to smash this trauma head-on. So, grilled fish for dinner. Time to devour all the stuff I've been avoiding ordering.
...That evening, I stopped by my usual sashimi joint.
"Welcome! Oh, it's been a while. Kid! Seat them in the back room! We have a guest!"
"Yes!"
A fish-person chef with a human lower body and his mermaid wife with a fish tail instead of legs—they run the place together.
"This way, please. Follow the waterway."
"Sure."
The mermaid staff guides me along the channels between tables. In summer, it feels like dining by a cool river—why I come so often.
Deep in the back, a private room separate from the main hall. They have hall seating, but as a regular, they give me the best spot.
"The usual sashimi set today?"
"No. Grilled fish, please."
"...Grilled fish?"
The mermaid startles. But she doesn't pry. If anything, she explains the menu extra enthusiastically, like she's apologizing for her surprise.
"Our blue-backed fish is cheap and fresh today."
"Then the Blue-Backed Fish Set, please."
"Got it. One moment."
Blue-backed fish. Mackerel, sardines, saury... the kind that grills up delicious. Oily, nutty perfection. Downside: red-fleshed ones lose flavor fast if not fresh. But even at their worst, they're reliably good. Solid tutorial choice for my first brave step.
"Banchan first."
"Thanks."
Ginger slices, kimchi, and three pieces of sashimi. White-fleshed fish. Like I said, I'm no expert. Tell me it's flounder or whatever, and I nod along. But that doesn't mean I can't appreciate the taste. The clean savoriness that blooms with each chew. As a kid, I wolfed down four or five pieces at a time, just loving the chew.
"Your Blue-Backed Fish Set."
"...Blue-backed fish?"
Blue-backed fish. Right? Perfectly grilled, golden-brown. Crisp slashes in the skin, oil bubbling under slightly shrunken flesh. Savory aroma punches the nose. Zero fishiness. They said fresh, but this fresh?
A whole fish from head to tail, visually mouthwatering grilled blue-backed perfection...
"...It's huge. What fish is this?"
...It is blue-backed, but way too big. Fist-to-elbow length. Not mackerel, sardine, saury, or even tuna.
What the hell is this?
"Onchamgodori. Specialty from the Andadashi Dimension."
"Onchamgodori...? Andadashi Dimension..."
"Peak season, so it'll be extra nutty. Enjoy."
"Onchamgodori...?"
I know the Andadashi Dimension. 99% ocean, marine life haven. Hometown of merfolk and fish-folk. And this is their famous catch...?
"Looks like mackerel... but totally different too..."
Forearm-sized mackerel. Blue back, white belly, skin pattern—it could be jumbo mackerel. But those spine-like gill spikes and ten eyes (five per side) scream deep-sea monster.
One thing's sure: despite the hulking size and fierce look, it smells incredible.
...Still, this is my tutorial. Starting with forearm mackerel? Difficulty scaling's busted.
"Won't finish it... but the price..."
75 pt for the set. Pricier than average meals, but fair for lunch. Other stuff's just cheap; this is a smidge above normal.
Assuming normal mackerel or saury. A beast this size? Feels like I messed up the order.
"...Hmm. Let's try it."
The longer you dither, the worse grilled fish gets. The oil under the skin—bubbling moments ago—is cooling, firming up. Better taste it before it cools more.
"Where to cut first... Huh?"
This weird fish... Onchamgodori, was it? Skin's tough. But lifting it, chopsticks to flesh—and whoa, it slices like whipped cream.
...Huh? The light touch, but the visual heft. Feels weightless on the chopstick tip. Looks huge, though. One casual swipe, and a fistful of flesh flops off.
Wild. Such a bizarre sensation.
What'll it taste like?
I pinch off a bite-sized piece and pop it in.
That's when I realize: this fish is all bluff.
"Ah, so that's the flavor!"
Soft. Incredibly soft. Air-packed ice cream? Whipped cream? Flesh melts in your mouth like that.
Light. So light. Stuff your mouth full, swallow—and the volume vanishes like gulping an air bubble.
But heavy. Intense. As it bursts like foam, umami explodes. Salted mackerel's depth, saury's nuttiness, sardine's oil—all packed and detonated!
Tuna? No. Different. More mackerel. Saury. Sardine.
"Yeah. Closest to mackerel, endlessly..."
Big size means packed umami. But the flesh? All foamy illusion. That's why it's affordable. Looks massive, but actual volume's just right for one meal.
Any fishiness, and it'd be unbearable. Air bubbles laced with stink? Gross texture, meh taste.
But this? Beyond fresh. Pure mouth bliss, nose-friendly aroma in airy bliss...
"Molecular gastronomy...?"
Yeah. Like foam cuisine in molecular cooking. Just grilled fish, but it feels that fancy.
Hit the jackpot with this ingredient. Way more fun than expected.