Trout in Wasabi from France

I saw “wasabi” and “France,” so I said sure and ordered. Did not love, but you might.

One thing I expect no one here will be happy with: the wasabi. There was zero, zilch, nada, the null set. Not mild horseradish; just completely zippo horseradish. Sigh. Shouldn’t I know by now not to be lured by the siren song of label-mentions on European cans? Yes, yes I should. But nope, I’m still a dope.

The trout are packed in extra virgin rapeseed, that’s canola for us Amurricans, which is fine, neutral. Indeed, it ought to have been capable of delivering a solid wasabi punch just fine, but nope.

What about the fish, though? Well, here opinions could well vary. These are troutlings, small fry, smaller than nearly all brisling sprats other than the KO crosspacks. (And there’s also only 65 grams of fish, versus 85 grams in a can of Tiny Tots, for example.)

They’re whole fish, with just heads and (mostly) tail fins lopped off. The trout are very soft, softer than KO sprats—which may just be the nature of trout this young—which you might call appealingly delicate, but which I found unsatisfyingly smushy.

I really, really missed the horseradish. Even a more opinionated olive oil would’ve helped. With trout you don’t even get the briny, marine notes of the ocean. Instead, you’re left with something slightly pond-watery. Or a slight aquarium note, which was—again, for me—an unfortunate association, since the little fish look awful pet guppie-ish splayed there on the platter. I sprinkled salt, spooned garlic chili crunch, and shook rice wine vinegar on them, and finished my lunch like a big boy.