Back again.
Just telling you how the fish was cooked and how it tasted.
Firstly, dad put 2 garlic cloves and olive oil together in a bowl, then squeezed a lemon fresh from our tree into the bowl. Then he painted the mixture onto some aluminium foil, and all over the cleaned fish and inside the fish and lastly wrapping the five fish in the foil and baking them in the oven at 180 degrees for 40 minutes.
He served the fish with chips and herb and cheese tomatoes. A cook told us to bake them for 40 minutes and the flesh would just fall off the bones.
It did.
Dad pulled out the skeleton when it was cooked and the taste was great. It was tender with just enough garlic and lemon.
We also cooked the whiting and shared it around the table. It also tasted better than the bream. We shared a couple of the bream with our next door neighbours who like fresh fish.
bye for now,
Big Chris
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Monday, June 09, 2008
Fish for Dinner
Hi people,
Sorry it's been a long time. I'm back for one or two posts. On Saturday I got a new fishing rod for my birthday (Oma and Opa gave it to me). It came with a tackle box with everything in it.
That day we went to Caloundra to try it out. We fished for an hour and caught one fish, a bream. It was about 22cm long. The problem was... we didn't have a bucket... so we had to give it away. During that hour we had plenty of entertainment because someone nearby caught an eel, which we had to help them with - getting the hook out of its mouth with my special tool. They also caught a "happy moment" (that's only the nickname... I can't remember the proper name) which has a poisonous spike and the man got stabbed by the spike. The wound hurts for 36 hours! We got this information from a professional fisher.
The next day we fished for three or four hours and caught 6 bream, believe it or not! A lady walking past gave us a whiting because they didn't want to bring it home. So we got lucky. This time we had a bucket, and tonight we're eating the fish and I'll tell you how they tasted afterwards.
Bye for now,
C
Monday, March 10, 2008
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
New Story
Hello readers! I'm sorry I haven't been posting for a while, but I'm currently experimenting with writing a book. I don't know what the title is yet, but I've written Chapter One. I just wanted some feedback and advice. Here it is - I hope you enjoy it:
CHAPTER ONE: DEATH
The electric Audi TT4 drove down Oxford Street, its blue reflection glinting in shop windows. The man driving it was named Harold Dexter and he had just bitten into a juicy ham sandwich. What he didn’t know was that this would be his last meal. Harold checked his watch and swore. He was late for work. He stepped on the accelerator, adjusted the rear view mirror and combed his jet-black hair. Five minutes later, the car pulled up to a large modern building with automatic glass doors. Above the main door a sign read “GM Incorporated”.
Upstairs, Harold settled himself in his comfy chair behind a polished wooden desk. On his desk were two computers and a phone. The rest of his office consisted of a sofa and a glass coffee table.
A blonde-haired woman came in and asked, “Good morning, Mr. Dexter. Would you like a coffee?”
Harold said dimly, “No thank you.”
The woman walked out of the office, frowning. Mr Dexter never said no to a nice hot coffee.
Meanwhile, in the car park, a cleaner walked past Harold’s car. He knelt and attached a very compact bomb underneath the car. Just then, Harold’s phone rang. He listened, then replaced the receiver and walked out of the office. He told his secretary he would be going out for lunch and walked to the car park. If Harold had looked down, he would have seen the compact blue bomb attached to his car. Instead he opened the driver’s seat door, got in, fastened his seat belt and pressed the starter button.
Then it happened. The car blew up with a deafening boom. By the time rescuers arrived, Harold Dexter was dead.
CHAPTER ONE: DEATH
The electric Audi TT4 drove down Oxford Street, its blue reflection glinting in shop windows. The man driving it was named Harold Dexter and he had just bitten into a juicy ham sandwich. What he didn’t know was that this would be his last meal. Harold checked his watch and swore. He was late for work. He stepped on the accelerator, adjusted the rear view mirror and combed his jet-black hair. Five minutes later, the car pulled up to a large modern building with automatic glass doors. Above the main door a sign read “GM Incorporated”.
Upstairs, Harold settled himself in his comfy chair behind a polished wooden desk. On his desk were two computers and a phone. The rest of his office consisted of a sofa and a glass coffee table.
A blonde-haired woman came in and asked, “Good morning, Mr. Dexter. Would you like a coffee?”
Harold said dimly, “No thank you.”
The woman walked out of the office, frowning. Mr Dexter never said no to a nice hot coffee.
Meanwhile, in the car park, a cleaner walked past Harold’s car. He knelt and attached a very compact bomb underneath the car. Just then, Harold’s phone rang. He listened, then replaced the receiver and walked out of the office. He told his secretary he would be going out for lunch and walked to the car park. If Harold had looked down, he would have seen the compact blue bomb attached to his car. Instead he opened the driver’s seat door, got in, fastened his seat belt and pressed the starter button.
Then it happened. The car blew up with a deafening boom. By the time rescuers arrived, Harold Dexter was dead.
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