I’ve laid down a couple fish recipes lately and have another that I’ll put up soon. But first, I got the fish/fishing story you see below from a darn good friend I served with in the Navy it seems like lifetimes ago. Bill Fleming was – and still is – the real deal as both a river boat gunner in Vietnam and savvy intelligence officer both at sea on carriers and on land in Washington DC. We got a lot done together in DC while, at the same time, having our good share of laughs.

Bill posted this story on Facebook a few weekends ago. I got a good smile out of it and hope you do too.

Introduction: With nothing planned for lunch, our Lord provides, I’ve always been told. So, in pictures, this is how my (recent) Sunday of culinary experiences unfolded.

It all started about 6:00 A. M., much darker than it appears. The lonely dock became my church, sort of, with a congregation of one this morn. That’s the moon shining overhead, not the sun! I plugged for bass and jigged for crappie, turning up one undersized specimen, released to grow some more.

Noontime approaching, I discovered a large grasshopper trying to invade the door to our great room. “Oh, Grasshopper,” I implored, “how would you like to explore the domain of the mighty catfish?” Having no choice, I recruited Brother Grasshopper to the cause! Voila…! Soon, he enlisted the support of a lovely two-pound channel cat, and bang! We became a troika. Grasshopper even survived to tell the tale but dug into my hair, begging for early separation papers! “This surveillance mission is too taxing for an unarmed insect!” Grasshopper cried. Request denied!

This broke a three day skunk and called for a celebration at the cleaning station, but there’s something fishy about that opener! At any rate, a boater floating by called out, “Hey man,” is your fish fresh?” “No sir,” I replied, “Actually, he’s very well behaved!” With that, Mister Cattie and I repaired to the tram and ascended to the cookhouse. Yes, the Lord does indeed provide!

An array of options and decisions awaited. Hey, I’m no dad-gum cook, but I do fool around with this stuff whenever no woman is gracing the domain. Out of those spices, I used only the pepper, but the rest look really impressive lined up like that, don’t they? I also decided to try the beer batter breading for the first time.

With 100% boneless “tenders” cut, the only waste was the backbone on top. I’ve selected only olive oil lately. Peanut oil is fine but a bit heavier. Do NOT fry fish with any other oils, please. They might be “bad” for ya!

With the range set to about “6”, moderately high, I tossed in a small chunk for testing. When the olive oil began to sizzle and smoke a bit, in went the rest. Usually, I turn only once.

An offering of chilled Fruity Red Sangria by Franzia usually works for me. I can never remember what color wine is mandated with fish. Heh, if I were color blind, I’d never mess this up. Yet, I’ve become somewhat of an expert at choosing a vintage that pleases me, and that’s good enough for this poor ol’ country boy who’s still struggling to get by in the big city the best he can!

By the by, I’m using a 50-cent glass I picked up at a thrift shop on Kickapoo Street near the Homeland Store, so we wouldn’t be reduced to consuming our chilled Cold Duck in the room at the Class of 1965 Shawnee High School reunion in those flimsy plastic “hotel glasses”. As for a chunk of fish, it should be crispy on the outside and moist and flaky on the inside. No one was around to tell me if mine passed muster.

Having opted to consume all of the fish on the plate rather than starve, I did notice that my half skillet of catfish tenders delivered no “fishy” taste whatsoever. I’ll bet I could have blindfolded a fish-hater, and they couldn’t have told me what kind of meat this was. I’ll wager that a fish lover could NOT have identified the species, either. This experiment seemed to turn out an offering as sweet as flounder! Ah, and my fish is finger food. The fork is just for show, or in case some Easterner or a member of British royalty darken my door at lunchtime!

I was full, but neighbors Jeanne and Jerry offered me these two dishes before departing for church this morning, and Gary and Susie presented me with a tube of venison sausage the day before (destined for Virginia). Kenny’s wife Barbara cooks the best liver and onions west of the Mississippi, and such a feeder is planned. Kenny won’t eat the onions and Barb doubles them up, so I always get four-sies on the onions! Yum, yum…! I have the best neighbors on the planet who always enhance my “Grand Life” on Grand Lake!

Summary: Oh, I placed today’s fried fish on a cookie rack. Paper towels do soak up a bit of oil, then the flow reverses and sometimes saturates. Not good! And, once heated, olive oil loses much of it’s beneficial nutritional properties. As for my family, the best clan of folks a man could enjoy, let me tell you this beats frozen pizza all to heck. I would have prepared more if y’all were here, but alas! Every last one of them is in Virginia today. Oh, well… Bon appetite, my hungry minions!!