So this Lake Michigan tradition involves a huge pot of boiling water, fire, and three layers of scrumptious food. The potatoes go in first, then the onions, and finally the white fish (ours was pulled from the Lake the previous day.) Fish can be quite oily, and since oil is lighter than water, it rises to the surface of the pot of boiling deliciousness. To prevent the fish from tasting oily, kerosene is thrown on the fire, causing the whole thing to boil over, ridding the food of the oil. Just watch (you can tell by my whoop of pure delight that I inherited my father's love of explosions and my mother's love of being the loudest at the party):
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At our fish boil, an ity-bity babuska (smaller than Damen Elaine) grabbed my arm, yelled something in Russian, and pulled me in the opposite direction from the flames. She was tiny, but boy was she strong!
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