Dreams of sole

When we discovered seafood grilled atop the pink himalayan salt slab, we turned into obsessed lovers of oceanic beauties. Entire evenings were devoted to the rinsing, caressing, patting dry preparation of seafood centered entrees. Our afternoon lovers’ chats spoke of rosemary or lemon thyme seasoned butter or infused olive oil. I dreamt of sauces, fresh herbs with mountains of irish butter cut with white wine and lemon juice, artfully drizzled over a grilled fillet of salmon, a steak of tuna or 6 ounces of baramundi. Ah, but sole is a beautiful piece of flesh to marry with the flavor of pink himalayan salt. The hot salt sings and sizzles with the sole. Sprinkled with capers and dotted with sauce we cannot make it to the table. No garnish just luscious goodness.