This year I had help as I made the gefilte fish. Ari is a curious puppy who wants to check out anything new on the counters. As he gets bigger, nothing much is sacred. For him, stealing something off the counter is even better than stealing underwear off the drying rack.
The fish always starts with a stock made from the bones, heads, and skin. Not exactly a pretty picture, but definitely the way to a good fish stock (that turns into bouillabaisse after Passover).
By midday the fish patties had come out of the broth and were stored away in the refrigerator with their little carrot slices to sit in a thin layer of broth awaiting tomorrow night's seder.
Tonight we got a sneak preview as we each had a piece for dinner. The fumes from the horseradish pronounced it sufficiently potent. But there is always a concern before the first bite of fish when I wonder if I got the seasoning right -- enough salt and sugar, but not too much. Every year is different, but my husband always declares it to be just right.
Happy Passover! May you extricate yourself from any unpleasant situation just as the Jews did as they left slavery in Egypt.