“They shared the monkfish-liver pâté and the finely chopped tuna and scallions with ginger sauce.
"Remember the time we had puffer fish at that restaurant in New York?" Isaac asked as he tasted the monkfish.
Elliott slowly shook his head as he answered. "How can I forget? I was scared to death. Every time I have liver, no matter where it comes from, the puffer-fish liver crosses my mind. I sat there praying that the chef knew what he was doing when he cut out the poison part."
"You didn't seem scared," said Isaac.
"That's because I didn't want you to think I was unadventurous. We had just met then. I was trying to impress you."
"Well, you did," said Isaac. "I'd been in town for only a few months, and I thought you were such a sophisticated New Yorker. I was trying not to seem like a rube."
"You know," said Elliot, "I read that Japanese fish farmers are mass-producing poison-free puffer fish."
Isaac shrugged. "Kinda takes the mystique away, doesn't it? I mean, where's the thrill? Where's the risk? You might as well be eating tuna.”