wild card: tilapia is the devil's fish

i hate tilapia.  i realize hate is a strong word, but i'm fairly certain it's not strong enough for the emotion i feel toward this fish.  i know what you're probably thinking.  "what?  i love tilapia!  it doesn't even taste like anything!"

this is a lie.

a few years ago, i made tilapia for the first time.  i baked it with an orangey basily sauce, and my sister loved it.  as she was singing the praises of this delectable piece of nomness, i was staring at my fish trying to figure out what happened between the plate and my tongue that turned every bite into a mouthful of potting soil.

i have avoided tilapia like the plague since then, even though it is the sweetheart of every seafood section on every menu everywhere, it seems.  and i am a huge seafood fan.  in fact, i am such a seafood fan that this past week i developed a very serious craving for fish tacos.  so i found a recipe and went to the local market where i buy my meat.  (yes, i have a local market where i specifically buy meat and cheese.  i have a separate one where i buy produce and a third where i buy shelf-stable things. because i'm a weirdo. this is why grocery shopping takes me so long.)  i went up to the fish counter and the only fish i saw was salmon and... you guessed it.  tilapia.  i asked the man behind the counter if he had any halibut hidden somewhere, but he didn't.  i asked him if i could make fish tacos out of salmon, and he said i could but a firm-fleshed fish like tilapia would be much better.  i stared at the tilapia.  it stared back.  somehow, i convinced myself to give it another chance.

oh, what a fool i was.

let's talk about the texture of this fish for a moment, shall we?  it's... wrong.  it's just wrong.  it feels like fake krab that they have to spell with a k.  i love fake krab, but it fully acknowledges that it's not natural.  tilapia, however, flaunts its weird texture like it's totally normal.  but it's not.  it's not.  still, i bit the bullet and cut up the tilapia into pieces while i was waiting for my oil to heat, trying to touch the fish as little as possible.  i dredged it and dropped it in the oil, at which point the tilapia released its full-force fishy funk.  i'm sure that would have happened with any fish, though.  cooked fish smells like fish.  that's just how it goes.  i assembled the rest of my taco and begrudgingly added the chunks of fish, telling myself that it was going to be alright.  the fish was going to be fine and the taco was going to be awesome.

i actually succeeded in chewing and swallowing the first bite, then threw everything in the garbage.

i read descriptions of tilapia as being "mild and slightly sweet," and i want to ask the people who taste anything pleasant in that fish if they are aliens.  tilapia is not mild, nor is it slightly sweet.  it tastes like a mouthful of basement.  and i think i gave it a fair shot, too-- two chances to prove itself tasty to me.  never again, devil fish.  never again.