Last night was the annual fish fry at our church. I was definitely in the minority as I made my way to the front of the line and entered the all purpose room. I saw the sea of grey hairs with a few shiny spots all sitting down with their heads bowed and chowing down on the crispy cornmeal coated fish.
The menu was sinful. Fried fish, french fries, hushpuppies, coleslaw (almost as good as my dad’s) white beans with pepper relish, fried pickles and for dessert- peach cobbler and coca cola cake. I love how fellowship tastes.
You never really know who you will sit with at these things. Our family tries to sit together at one of the long plastic covered tables. And then I ended up chatting the night away with someone I have smiled and waved to a million times in the church hall any given Sunday morning but never really gotten to know. I had found my kindred spirit of hot sauce. We must have talked about hot sauce for at least thirty minutes. I can’t wait to try it on popcorn as she suggested and we both agreed that hot sauce on fried fish was the only way to eat it. It’s funny how hot sauce will bring people together.
After all the babies and second helpings had been passed around, we headed home with our bellies and hearts full of goodness that comes from sharing fish and breaking bread together.