Pritong isda smells foreign to my friends. Scales flaked off with a cleaver, gutted to its eyeballs, fried in a pan with rice until the smells — residual oil dripping off crispy hardened morsels, used the night before to fry … more »
is the name on the matching teal jackets
we bought on Christmas Eve so long ago
from the Taiga store
because it was three p.m.
and Mountain Equipment Co-op was closing
so their staff could celebrate… more »