My experience is fairly typical: First time I tried caviar, I was disgusted; second time I ate caviar, capped with a little bubbly, I fell into a swoon. I have been in love ever since.
However, because of the reasons above (over-fishing, extinction), I have not enjoyed the roe for these last many years.
But there is a story...
Long ago, I got a deal on Iranian roe. My plan was for a few friends getting together for a five-course meal, designed by myself, using caviar in each course, a chef's Thanksgiving. (I will not go into the menu, here, but to say that I have tossed food for serious establishments.) I was as impressed with myself and my designs as my friends were looking forward to our dinner.
At the time, I was no longer a professional chef, but a professional salesman, one who often came home late. My four-year-old son shoved me awake the morning after one of these late nights, wanting breakfast. I asked him for another hour or two of sleep; "Dad needs just a little more rest, honey. You know how to make breakfast. Just wake me up in a little while..."
Once and always being a chef, I had tried to develop his palate: strange vegetables, cheap cuts of meat dressed well, sauces and sautes, slow roast and quick fire... Everything...
He only nodded his head, a good boy, trained in responsible cookery...When I woke a couple of hours later, I went out to meet him. He was watching The Lion King, of course, had all the empty tins of caviar opened before him, with a rack of soda crackers almost gone. He had black stains over his face and hands, black stains of roe going up his arms and down his neck. The Lion King roared...
He was scooping up the last of the expensive delicacy when I asked him if he knew what it was he ate. When I told him Fish Eggs, he shrugged his shoulders and ate the last bite. "Great," he said, going back to his movie.
My friends were surprised and disappointed when caviar failed to make it to the menu that night, until they heard the story (while listening to a Sansui G-5000 with a set of Heresy III's). Then, the chicken was fine, the rice sublime, and my boy a culinary hero...
