Josh Ronish is the newest addition to the Bullpen at Grapes. He brings to our number a love of wine (which is a first base issue with us) and a very interesting background that adds to our diversity. If you are interested in that sort of thing… he is part Asian, part French Canadian, part Native American, part Swiss… and a little bit of Endor tossed in for good luck.
He was raised in Schenectady, New York. It had been my home as well for the four years I attended Union College. When I tell folks, “when you smell shit, it’s Schenectady… when you step in it, it’s Troy…” they chuckle. When I mentioned it to Josh his chuckle was the chuckle of sharing… of knowing. Based on that alone, it was easy to give Josh the benefit of the doubt.
And there were other stories. He raced motorcycles and a real bad accident nearly cost him his life. He no longer races motorcycles. He is an accomplished tattoo artist… and evidence of his artistry is on display when he sheds his shirt… he loves single malt whisky. And he loves to fish.
For a man of many interests, it seems that fishing is his passion, maybe even his calling. If there were a First Reform Church of the Tasty Trout, he would be its Minister.
Josh is not on the clock ’til noon… which gives him time to get a couple of hours of fishing in, take home the keepers, clean and cook them… and then bring in his latest recipes to share. At 12:15PM when we tuck into striped bass in a Mediterranean Mushroom Sauce, it’s not only fresh, it’s good beyond belief. It is clear that our Josh also knows his way around the kitchen.
And if he hasn’t had his fill of fishing in the morning, during our 5:00PM – 6:00PM break, he heads over to the Norwalk River, some 150 yards from our front door, and casts his line to see what the River will yield.
His stories of catching fish from that location seemed to strike at credulity. But then came the day when Wally (our Wizard of I.T.) and John (our Proprietor) trailed after Josh, braving the light rain to watch Josh do his stuff.
At the point where the Norwalk River crosses underneath U.S. Route 1, its width is no more that 15 yards, the depth no more than 18″, and the River appears more rock than water.
The stalwart band of outdoorsmen clambered down the steep bank (probably violating some City Ordinance)… Josh to fish, Wally & John to observe. Josh picked his way on the rocks looking for a suitable location to drop his line. His trained eye found a slightly deeper pool, and this pool “spoke to him.” It wasn’t long before he was engaged in a significant battle with a fish of substantial size.
Josh had hooked a good-sized fish nearly 2′ in length. And this fish was decidedly unhappy about being taken out of the water. It flapped about mightily and Josh had difficulty disengaging the hook. His ultimate victory was not without cost… his trousers were splattered with blood from catching his own hook.
By the time I saw the fish back in the Bullpen, it was already gutted and cleaned, ready for planking. I looked in his pail, “Holy Shit, Josh, what the hell is that?” I thought it looked like an ichthyosaur; but kept that observation to myself.
He proceeded to examine the catch more carefully… “it’s a Rainbow Trout… but at this age it’s also known as a ‘Steelhead’.”
I look at Josh and see pride in his eye… proud as a true fisherman would be… proud as someone experienced in the finer points of angling.
The old fisherman who Hemingway wrote of in his exquisite Old Man and the Sea was no “angler”. But he surely would have shared in Josh’s passion and pride.
The Old Man and the Sea was the first book that I read without being required to by the English Department. I picked it up as a result of loving Spencer Tracy’s portrayal of the lead role in the film.
When that huge fish lugged Tracy further out to sea and he had to eat raw fish for nourishment, I watched half in amazement, and half in revulsion.
I guess I have never really shed the revulsion of eating raw fish. Only today, eating raw fish is not confined to poor Cuban fishermen being carried out to sea… it has spread its popularity to affluent citizens who flock to establishments featuring its preparation and service: sushi joints.
This Japanese food form is a culture unto itself. How it is ordered, how it is prepared, how it is served all contribute to the aesthetics and the dinning experience. One thing is for sure… there is no “middle ground” when it comes to sushi… it’s not something that you can just be OK on.
And while I do no like it, there are too many folks I know (and respect) who love it. In fact, I can think of no one who I know besides me (and my Sister & my kids) who do not go “ga ga” over sushi.
I do not lose sleep over this.
In 1980, I can recall going to a party at the Vetrano’s in early November. About sixteen folks were there… and after a post-election straw poll was taken, it turned out that I was the only person who did not vote for Ronald Reagan.
I didn’t like Jimmy Carter (although I voted for him in 1976)… but I would rather have eaten rat poison than vote for Reagan. I had cast my ballot for the Third Party Candidate, John Anderson.
Still it remained that in a room of 16 people, I stood alone. That my friends (including Ellen) treated me like an insane Aunt troubled me not.
And so, too, on Saturday night, in the company of Best Friends Sandy & Gary, enjoying the hospitality of Akasaka on Whalley Ave in New Haven, I could love their company, and at the same time distance myself from the raw fish that they loved and appreciated.
On an intellectual level, I am fascinated by the huge success of sushi (and sashimi… I guess the more “pure” form, served without sticky rice to buffer the taste of the raw fish).
I stand alone in a room filled with sushi and sashimi lovers. It’s OK. Me? I can’t wait for Josh to bring in the results of an excursion to Cove Inlet in Stamford… fish caught, cleaned, cooked… all with loving care.
I stand by my belief that fish should be swimming free in the wild, in an aquarium or cooked in a superb manner.
N.B. I couldn’t figure out a way to put origami into this sketch; but I liked the title too much to change it.