The Blue Sunfish

She laughed, "How about snow peas stuffed with cream cheese? Or how about veggie sticks! With ranch or, get this... blue cheese dipping sauce. Oh, I do miss America sometimes."

"How about church lady sandwiches?" I added.

"I love them!"

We both laughed.

"You're right though, Rose. That was meat. Raw meat at your end of the plate, then in aspic which was, I guess, pickled, and then the goose liver, which has to be just borderline ethically criminal."

"But sooo good."

We both chuckled smiling to each other. She was absolutely stunningly gorgeous sitting across from me. "I must say Rose, I'm really enjoying this tafelspitz experience so far." I raised my glass to her.

"Good," she answered smiling with happy tooth gap as she picked up her glass too, "but we've barely started."

I checked out the wine label. "I've never even heard of this. Gruner Veltliner?"

"Gruner is green. Veltliner is, I suppose just the name. In Austria it's basic white wine. And that's what this meal is, basic food. Nothing pretentious at all."

"Pate de fois gras?"

"Simple country cuisine which today has been elevated into the stratosphere."

"I guess."

"While you were in the shower back at the hotel, I called our benefactor. He was delighted that we've narrowed the search to an area roughly the size of a fingerprint on your map. And that was before I discovered the three watersheds. And he is absolutely delighted that you've agreed to go on the expedition."

"There's that word again."

"He really is delighted."

"That's nice."

"We've got the green light to mount the expedition. The planning starts... now."

The pony-tail waiter returned and picked up the empty appetizer plate and filled the space on the table with two aluminum trays, "Be careful," he said, "these are hot."

"Thank you," we both said in unison.

"Okay, so who's going on the expedition?" I asked once the waiter walked off.

"So far, just you and me. Do we need anyone else?"

"No but I think we should probably get a canoe."

"Can you put together a list of what we will need from a logistics point? I'll augment that list with the fish collecting equipment that we'll need."

"I presume you are going to come away with live fish."

"Ideally, yes. Our benefactor is certainly expecting that. Scientifically though, just a single scale would suffice. But the plan would be to come away with several dozen fish. Plus, I need to provide an accurate description of its habitat."

"How do you plan to catch them?"

"A net, or a trap, or both.

"And transport them?"

"In plastic bags of water within, basically, coolers. Is there an airport at Sioux Lookout?"

The waiter returned, balancing two bowls and placed them on the table. "For the soup, I'll bring more bread," he said as whisked himself off. The bowls were empty except for what appeared to be some wet noodles and shredded vegetables.

"I dunno, the railway runs through town, though."

She tapped her cell phone screen several times, typed, tapped again, "There's an airport there. Excellent. So we can state that the expedition ends with me, at the very least, climbing into an airplane in Sioux Lookout, with several coolers of fish and making my way back to Europe as quickly as possible."

"Okay."

She typed on her screen again, "Actually, that's going to be a limiting factor on how many fish we can get."

"What's that?"

"The length of the runway," she read her screen, "5300 feet, asphalt. I don't think that's very big. I wonder if it can take a LearJet."

"What?"

Pony tail guy and another waiter approached the table each, placed copper pots on the aluminum racks and then proceeded to ladle out some broth from each of our pots into our soup bowls. "Enjoy."

"Thank you," we both said.

Each of the copper pots had a slab of grey-brown meat swimming in a broth, a bone with marrow floating away and a variety of obviously root vegetables. We picked up our spoons.

"Oh my god, is this ever good," I said after just one mouthful.

"Mmnn, it is. I love this soup," Rose concurred.

I couldn't stop shoveling it up.

"The lifting capacity of whatever plane, or jet, that lands and then takes off from Sioux Lookout," Rose said as she filled her spoon and lifted it to her mouth, "is dependent on the length of the runway," she chewed on a noodle then continued, "water is heavy."

I was listening, but lost in my glorious soup as she continued. "Lepomis are like cichlids, they'll fight. I'll want each one in its own plastic bag. I'm limited by the lifting capacity of the aircraft, which is then limited by the length of the runway."

"Helicopter?" I suggested with spoonful in front of my face.

"Yeah, but then it's getting silly. We don't need a lot of fish." She tilted her bowl and scooped some soup.

"Well I would say a LearJet is getting silly." I ladled a little more broth into my bowl.

She did the same adding a bit more broth to her bowl, too. "Well, I happen to know that our benefactor has one." She put her ladle back into her copper pot, as I devoured another spoonful. "I don't know what model, though. I assume they can fly trans-Atlantic."

"I have no idea. I'm just a simple painter." I said as I tilted my bowl to retrieve my last bit of broth and egg noodle.

"Oh, this is so good," she said as she finished off the last of her soup.

I sat back and picked up my wine glass, "Simply outstanding."

Rose picked up her wine glass too. "Where do we start? And how soon can we get there?"

"Well, right now, there's probably ten feet of snow on the ground." I said. The waiter noticed that we finished eating the soup and came by to collect the empty bowls."

"Thank you," I said to the waiter, and then turned back to look at Rose who smiled up at the waiter. "We were there at the end of July," then I added, "blackfly season, and this is really important, Rose, will start around the end of May, as soon as the ice goes out and last a full month." I took a sip of the cool wine. "Trust me, you don't want to go then."

The waiter returned with two empty plates and set them in front of us.

"Thank you," I said and then continued to Rose, "so, I would say...July first?"

Both waiters returned carrying two more slightly smaller copper pots and two more bowls. "Wow, this looks good," I said. In unison they both ladled a piece of meat from our respective copper pots onto our plates, then a two inch long morrow bone, some of the vegetables from the broth and then what appeared to be finely chopped spinach from one of the smaller copper pots and then chipped golden potatoes from the other.

"Thank you," we both said.

"Please enjoy." The waiters whisked themselves off.

"What is this?" I asked Rose.

She pointed with her fork at the new copper pots, "A creamed spinach, rosti potatoes, although in Switzerland we wouldn't call it that, this," she pointed to one of the bowls, "is apfelkren, which is basically a mixture of creamed horseradish and applesauce..."

"Hmm." I interjected.

"It's to go with the meat..."

"Hmm," I interjected again as I reached to scoop up some.

"And I'm not sure what this is called," she pointed to the other bowl, "but I would say it's mayonnaise with a little cream and some chopped chives."

I dolloped some of the horseradish apple sauce onto my meat and the mayo mixture onto my potatoes and got to work eating it. "Oh my god, Rose, this is unbelievable," I said after swallowing.

She too swallowed her mouthful. "See I knew you would like it," she said smiling.

"When you said boiled beef, I imaged some rubbery abomination. This is amazing. I don't really need a knife; it's just falling apart. It's like the ultimate pot-roast."

Rose picked up a piece of bread and with her knife scooped into the morrow bone. "Traditionally," she said as she spread the bone marrow on the bread, "bone marrow is spread on toasted pumpernickel." Her pearly white teeth, gap and all, munched down on the dark open-faced sandwich which she created.

I did the same, "Oh my god, this is insane," I said after my first swallow, "never in a million years," I bit again, unable to finish my sentence.

"I told you, tafelspitz is an experience, not a meal."

"Mnnbb," I mumbled with mouthful.

We ate quietly for a few moments. The waiter came by and drained the last of the wine bottle into our glasses. "Would you care for another bottle?" he asked.

"Yes, please," I answered giving him a thumbs up before I realized that I should have deferred to Rose. "I'm sorry, Rose."

"For what?" She was scooping more spinach onto her plate.

"I shouldn't have ordered the wine."

"Why not? I'll want more wine, too." She was completely perplexed.

"I'm simply taking advantage of you and your benefactor's generosity."

"Nonsense!" She whipped her knife in the air to one side, "I'll not have any more of that. You're my guest, you'll get what you want."

Wheew! I think I blushed a little as I picked up my glass. "Cheers," I said as grinned.

She smirked seductively and picked up hers too. "Cheers to the blue fish."

We both had a sip.

"I'm blown away, Rose; this is all so good."

"Then let's take our time, the night is young."

I put my fork down, "That's right, we're not in a race."

"We are though, Kevin, to find the blue fish."

"I suppose."

"I wouldn't want anyone else beating us to it. Can we go before the end of May?"

"No, everything will be frozen 'till the end of May. And blackfly season would be just...suicidal." I fished out a little more meat from my pot.

"Okay, where do we start from?" she asked. "Where do we buy or rent all of our gear, such as the canoe."

"I own a canoe."

"But it will be two thousand miles away, Kevin. Can't we just rent one or buy one?"

"We'll need wheels. I suggest a pick-up truck so we just have to stuff the canoe in the back. I would say, realistically Winnipeg, Manitoba, I guess."

"Okay, so we can fly to Winnipeg, get whatever we need and start from there."

"I guess."

"When?" She asked.

"All of June will be blackfly season."

"I remember them in Rochester. They weren't so bad. No different than mosquitoes, really."

"Trust me, southern Ontario and upstate New York simply don't know what blackfly season means. It can be done, but we'd be living in full-on bug suits the whole time. Almost like space suits. I've done it before. I don't want to do it again. Trust me on this, Rose. By July 1^st the worst of it will be behind us."

"So Winnipeg July 1^st it is, then," she conceded. "Okay, how long should we plan for?"

"It'll be days and we'll need camping gear and all kinds of stuff."

"Fine, we'll rent a pick-up truck and buy or rent everything else that we need. Tents, coolers, nets, traps..."

"Sleeping bags..." I interjected, "cooking equipment, fishing rods and tackle, life jackets, food, beer. Rose, I've got all that."

"Perhaps, but remember the prime directive, you are not to be inconvenienced, financially or otherwise."

"And then what do I do with all that stuff after you get on a plane with the blue sunfish?"

"I don't know. Keep it. Give it away."

"Well for starters I'd have to drive back to Winnipeg to return the pick-up truck and canoe, if it's rented. Then what do I do with the rest?"

"Can't we simply rent everything?"

"A fishing rod? Towels?"

"I'll need a lot of towels," she said, "preferably white."

"Why?"

"White will help reflect the heat."

"What?"

"I'll explain later, so some things we'll simply purchase in Winnipeg."

"Which will take days to acquire and then I'll have to get rid of them before flying back, myself. What do I do? Take it all to a Salvation Army thrift shop or something?"

"Hmm. I see that's not ideal. Do you have a plan B in mind?"

"I do."

"And what is that?"

"I rent or borrow a pick-up truck in Toronto, load up my canoe, hell, I've even got two tents. One's a big nine-by-nine outside frame heavy canvas tent that used to be my parents'. The other one is the one I bought in Kelowna. I've got everything we need. Life jackets, paddles, cooking grille, sleeping bags, fishing rods, tackle, I've got it all. We load it all up and go."

"But as you said, it's two thousand miles."

"To Kingston, but yeah, it's like three days of solid driving."

"And then three days back, are you sure you want to go on this expedition?"

"With you? Absolutely." Is she out of her frikkin' mind?

"If it's going to be your canoe and equipment then you should be fairly compensated for wear and tear and depreciation."

"On a ten-year-old life jacket? C'mon, now you're being silly."

"No, I'm not and you should be paid for the time that you will be devoting to the expedition."

"What? That's nonsense. I see this more like a holiday."

"That's fair enough, but you should be compensated for your," she searched for the right phrase, "the impact to your business."

"That's just plain daft Rose. I'll be on a fishing trip holiday with a beautiful sexy woman," I leant in and lowered my voice, "who has... a bit of a fetish." I had to know if it was going to be a continuing thing.

It was as if the gap between her teeth was laughing through her massive smile.

"I told you the fun is in the hunt."

"Yeah." I was grinning like a maniac.

"Nevertheless, let's just leave that discussion for now. Let's talk about timing."

"Okay," I said taking a deep breath.

She thought for a moment, then said, "Just for a minute let's assume that once we get to Sioux Lookout, we'll find the right stream or body of water and be able to set up camp in one day. I know that may be optimistic."

"I don't know. After all, Marcie's cup of coffee was probably still warm. How many suitable places would there have been to safely pull off and park a cube van?"

"I guess we'll see. Nevertheless, I'll need at least another day to collect the specimens. Let's call that three days total."

"Fine."

"Then I'll need two days to clean the fish."

"Clean the fish? What do you mean?"

"It'll take that much time for their digestive tracts to be purged. We can't have them contaminating the water while they're being transported."

"Okay."

"Then I'll need another day to get them ready for transport and get them over to the airport in Sioux Lookout."

"And to pack up the camp," I added, "So, three days up, plus three, plus two, plus one, plus three more."

"Twelve days, for you. I'll be on a plane as you drive back."

"Right. So, realistically two weeks."

"For you yes. I may simply meet you in Sioux Lookout. I'll have to find out about the LearJet and the flights. Maybe some of the things I can transport."

"Hmmm."

"I'll need an oxygen tank, a bunch of coolers, bags, chemicals I can fit in my purse. I'll have to make a holding pen. No, you can buy one... I'll make a complete list. We'll both make lists."

"Ha! Okay, item number one on our list has to be condoms." I said hopefully.

"Hmm... I... as long as you're a careful explorer, I don't think we'll need them. After all we do have to consider the combined weight of all those condoms...as you suggested...in a canoe."

Good answer, actually. "Not only that, but the environmental impact from all that spent latex..."

"Horrifying."

I waved my hand dismissively, "Condoms are off the list. Next?"

We both broke out in a fit of laughter.

"Can I ask a question?"

"Go ahead," she said.

"What if we can't find the fish? How long to we keep searching for it?"

"That's a very good question. It will depend, I guess, on how much time off work you and I can take."

"Or how long our benefactor is willing to finance our expedition," I suggested.

"Hmmm...I wouldn't worry too much about that. At that point his commitment costs will be more or less fixed. If we needed an additional week...everything is already rented or purchased. No, it'll be up to you and me. Plus, don't forget, there's another factor."

"Which is?"

"Men just want to run away from me. You'll be the same I expect."

"Well, that's just plain silly."

"Oh, is it? I guess we'll see. In my mind it's a big factor for the expedition."

"Why would you say that?"

"There's a very real possibility that after two or three days, you'll simply want to run away from me as quickly as you can, or, you may decide not to go in the first place."

"Rose?"

"Well I'm sorry to sound cynical, but I have thirty-six years of personal experience to fall back on in this matter."

"Maybe you're righ,t Rose. Maybe you are frikkin' crazy, but right now what I see is an intelligent beautiful woman, with a little bit of a kinky side to her, who has for whatever reasons, some serious confidence issues in herself vis-à-vis her ability to maintain a relationship with a man. Yeah, you're a little nuts that way. But I'm not going to hold it against you. And while we're at it, let me tell you this, yes, you're a Professor and I'm a simple tradesman and yes, you're waaay smarter than..."

"Stop!" She smacked her hand on the table. "I may be better educated than you, but that doesn't mean that I'm smarter than you."

I was taken aback a little by her sudden histrionic outburst, and so were the neighboring tables. Almost apologetically I said, "I was going to say that your education and my comparative lack of it, simply will not intimidate me. Even if you try."

She broke out in a massive tooth gap smile which she worked hard to quickly suppress.

We sipped our wine and almost uncomfortably smiled at each other for a moment.

After a moment she dropped her strained smile and looked off to one side, "Seriously though, Kevin, I know that you described Amanda's Barbie fishing rod. I assume you have some knowledge, some fishing skills."

"Hey, I'm Canadian. So... yes... what do you want to know?" I was glad she changed the subject.

"What did your niece use as bait when she caught the fish?"

"Worm on a hook."

She looked off to the side for a moment in thought. "Okay, have you ever fished for sunfish specifically?"

"Actually, I have. Lot's. I grew up doing that."

"Wonderful." She sipped her wine. "So, let me ask you this. If you were planning to catch a horde of little blue sunfish with your... fishing buddies... just east of Sioux Lookout...how would you go about doing it? How would you actually plan to catch them?"

I wasn't expecting that question at all. I had to think. This was an ichthyologist professor to whom I was speaking. It would be very, very easy for me to clearly demonstrate just what an ignoramus I really am.

I took a deep breath...

"Ultra-light spinning rod and reel, a pre-packaged pair, probably a Shimano or actually an Abu Garcia, a thin braided line—Seagar is fine, probably four-pound test, oh and maybe some of that fancy new titanium non-twist leader material, maybe a really small Mepps, off-hand I don't know what number it would be, #1 I guess, probably in gold or chartreuse."

Her face was blank.

"I'd cast from the canoe to the shade created by a tree on shore, if it's sunny outside. Nevertheless, the idea would be to position the canoe in a manner that would allow me to maximize the coverage area I can cast the little spoon to. If that doesn't work, maybe a floating fly or kind of like a miniature version of a Hula Popper, I've got one, or the tiniest Rapala-like minnow. Maybe a monofilament leader, I don't know. Maybe no leader at all. Sunfish don't really have teeth, do they?"

"Off hand, I'm not sure." She appeared lost.

"It all depends on the vegetation and structure. Once we find one sunfish, there will be others. Then we can switch to hook and worm and just haul them out."

She looked at me with some bewilderment in her eyes and lips.

"What?" I asked.

"I'm unfamiliar with some of the terms you used."