Last night the Mister and I ate fish and mixed seafood ceviche at Ceviche House in Warr Acres (NW side of Oklahoma City). Ceviche components can vary greatly, but it is typically a South American preparation of fish "cooked" in the acid of lime juice. I use it as an example of denaturing proteins with changes in pH (rather than heat) every semester in my intro classes and I receive blank stares. Last night the ceviche was very "bright", almost overwhelmingly so, and quite tasty. The Mister's big dish of fish ended up being a bit too much of one thing; the soft texture of the fish calls for some contrast, which was provided by shrimp, mussels, calamari, corn nuts and some hominy on my plate. A different use of acid than anything in my daily life.
We'd been talking about eating ceviche since I started acid year. Last night seemed like a great opportunity because we had a babysitter and were heading into "the City" for a knife skills class, but as of 5:30, we thought we had been thwarted, again, and were happily eating Thai food next door to the closed Peruvian place. The Mister inexplicably rushed us through the Thai meal and as we were pulling out of the strip mall, we simultaneously realized that he was under the impression that our class was starting a half hour earlier than it was and the ceviche restaurant was now open. So we parked and had second dinner immediately after first.
That this is a fairly mundane story reflects how well-suited the Mister and I are for each other. Most of my readers nodded through the previous paragraph and found nothing particularly unusual about us driving an hour and a half each way to take a knife skills class, eating highly-seasoned ethnic food, or calmly turning a miscommunication into a chance for bonus food.
I'm aware that in the world at large, this combination might not be exactly normal.
Thanks to the Mister for sharing spicy brightness with me wherever we can find it.