Yesterday, July 25, my dad. my husband and I went fishing.
We met at 7:30 am. I guess because it's been so hot. Maybe because my dad likes to make us lazy kids wake up early.
My dad has a 'special' technique for catching channel catfish. It apparently works pretty well. We caught 8 fish totalling about 25 lbs, all of which my dad graciously let us take home.
My husband, the chef, could have cleaned all the fish in no time, but he generously offered to let me practice my fillet skills and clean all of them. This isn't really a big deal for me because I've watched my dad clean wild animals all my life. First you cut off their tails and hang them so they bleed out. Then you fillet both sides. With smaller fish (thankfully all we had that day) that's all. It sounds simple, but getting the knife to do what you want it to do without puncturing internal organs or slicing through bones is a little tricky.
I thanked something greater than myself for allowing me these fine fish, and whacked away.
Last summer the fish I cleaned couldn't exactly be called "filleted," but more accurately they were butchered. Yesterday though, with encouragement from Gus and little determination, I did a pretty good job of cleaning them correctly. We put away 3 baggies full of fresh channel cat and left some in the refrigerator for supper.
I went to school to work a bit, and when I got home, Gus had fish frying on the stove. The sunflower oil really is the bomb. He used only Kansas white flour for the batter and the fish came out light and crispy. A little bit of illegal (this month) seasoning, and I had a delicious local protein.
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