Finding Kaimoana

Sometimes I don't mind smelling like fish. Especially when it means I'm about to have a delicious meal. Wrist-deep in flour and bread crumbs, I was working for this dinner. β€œYou have to hold the fillet like thisβ€”dip it in the egg first, then the flour!” directed Riley, my five-year-old seafood instructor, his Kiwi accent… Continue reading Finding Kaimoana