Tilapia with Lemon and Some Pickled Crap Thrown on Top

In order to make this promising tilapia you first have to have put in the time to pickle some crap. I’ve been into pickling lately. However, since I do most of my pickling sober I haven’t blogged about it. Pickling is a long drawn out process and my parole officer explicitly stated that I am not allowed to be drunk for the appropriate amount of time it would take to make that blog.

 I have been putting all kinds of shit in water salty enough to make even a veteran gourmand of the captain’s pudding blush. Currently I’m trying a daring process of fermenting salty plums I picked from my yard with rosemary and lemons in a brine of red wine. It might need to be thrown away in a few weeks. After all,  I'm not afraid to admit that I am scared of death which is a thing that can happen when eating the fruits of experimental pickling. 

With that said, In honor of the amazing Martha Stewart, I am going to leave any and all pickling instructions entirely out of today’s recipe. 

First, I was going to make this fish with a peach. But after some basic research I said all fucks to that.  

Instead I took the tilapia and put it on a big tin foil  sheet which my geriatric cat had already started to lick just a tiny bit because he has a plastic fetish and he felt tin foil was close enough substitute. Also, he hoped I would plop raw fish in front of him while he just happened to be practicing eating it. 

I did not change out the tinfoil because I love our Mother Earth. Also I figured that the heat will naturally bake off any cat anus germs.

 I covered those fishy bitches in salt and pepper and a healthy splash of that provincial herbs mix before slicing one lemon in a fan of thin slices over the top.  Then I realized my coconut oil was starting to get old and it heats better than olive oil and it also fights some kinds of brain diseases though when I was  younger I was told that it would just make us fat.  Ah, the miracle of transformation! Of course globs of coconut oil were strategically placed around the fish like tiny mounds of iced cream!

 I was rudely startled to discover that  I had no fresh garlic in the house. No one really has any good excuse to ever be out of garlic even if you engaged in a month long garlic festival ...  especially if you have engaged in a month long garlic festival. I don't understand those poor  bastards who try to tell me not to put garlic in my food because they claim in does something funny to them.  Be a man, poop it out. Don't you know that some people actually pay extra to have their colon washed with water nearly as fresh at your toilet bowl's before having them stuffed back inside?

Since I did have pickled garlic and pickled onions by the handful I was saved. It’s best if you have a tiny food processor in which you can throw in the garlic cloves and those thar Herbs du Provence and pickled onions in order to make a jaunty puree which you can spread across your fish before you roast it . However, if you live in a residential group home then there is a good chance  that someone threw the entire apparatus (cord and all) into the dishwasher on the second day it arrived from Costco. At this point you have only been able to use it  for a shallow yet  Dadaist invoking vase.  In this case mash the pickled garlic  and sprinkle across the body of these four brave yet bold fish that gave their lives to eventually travel though your lower intestines before going back out to sea in a slightly altered form.

 Also, don't forget to spread the finely chopped pickled onions!

I put a splash of lemon juice for good measure, because can one really trust  a lemon slice to deliver lemony goodness? No. Like a Republican senator’s wife, It’s just kinda there to look pretty while he finds the real business in a gutted bathroom stall in Downtown Detroit. Okay, maybe more gay downlows happen in D.C., but isn’t Detroit just perfectly picturesque?

By now you have everything in place. All you have to do is seal that fish into a tinfoil rosey vaginal pouch like a newly reconstructed hymen. Be sure to shush it and tell it God knows it’s still virginal and that her fish is all blessed and fresh inside.

Put on the grill for 10 to 15 minutes, or until that flakey fish just quivers and falls apart at the slightest touch from an assertive man’s hand, like God intended.