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. “You have to hold the fillet like this—dip it in the egg first, then the flour!” directed Riley, my five-year-old seafood instructor, his Kiwi accent… Continue reading Finding Kaimoana

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