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          Hey there. I'm just chilling out with Mark this afternoon. The sky is grey, we're watching Serenity for the umpteenth time (this time with Joss Wheedon's commentary) and I'm picking away at smoked salmon. Every year Mark heads out with the boys for an Alaskan fishing trip and I am the lucky recipient of a freezer full of beautiful ocean salmon and halibut. I'm afraid of cooking it. I feel like it's this amazing gift yet every time I huck a fish in a pan or the oven I feel trembly, apprehensive, nervous, worried. I don't know what to do. For one I've never been a salmon fan but ... every once in awhile I'll have a munch of one someone else has made and it's perfectly moist and sweet and not too omega three-y tasting and it makes me want to keep trying. Besides it's good for you and if something tasty can be combined with something good fer ya then yay! But smoked salmon is not something I have trouble eating thus the present picking. What else? I might read, maybe a bike ride, oh! and eat. I'm hungry. Again.
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