Sophie’s First Fish

So today I took my children and did something that I have never done in my entire life–caught a fish, processed it, and ate it.

We went to the local bait and tackle shop, and got Sophie, at 4 years old, outfitted with a tiny rod (2 feet long, with her favorite movie motif–Frozen), hook, bob, and bait. We went down to the local fishing pier into the Great South Bay (we hit up Blue Point Pier as it’s a stone’s throw from home, but we had been to Mascot dock as well, which is 5 minutes from Blue Point Pier), where a whole bunch of nice, elderly gentlemen couldn’t wait to show Sophie how to fish. Thank whatever deity you believe in for them because I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, and with Martha on my hip, the possibility of teaching my oldest how to catch a fish by myself was low. They were more than happy to give pointers and to answer any questions we may have had.

For five hours we kept casting (she is surprisingly very good), and things kept chomping down on our bait but not sticking. It was unfortunate because the fish were literally jumping out of the water–we’d see them flip up and splash back down. We’d pull up half a bait here and there, and were so disheartened I called my husband to ask what we were doing wrong (his father taught him and his brother how to fish during their summer vacations.) We ended up going home and waiting for Adam so I could take Sophie again and use up all the bait we got.

He told us, as we were leaving, we better bring home a fish.

I don’t think either of us expected her to actually catch anything this time around–after all, it’s late in the day, the fish must be all full, but it was nice just to be able to spend some one on one time with her while Adam took care of Martha.

However, against all odds, she threw her little line and as she began reeling it in, something bit and started splashing around. I screamed and yelled, “You got one! You got one!” which made her scream and yell, “I got one! I got one!” and she quickly reeled it in while we both screamed our heads off. There were just some teenagers on their bikes nearby, and they looked at us like we were crazy.

We managed to calm down enough to get it off the hook and threw it into our bucket. By the time we finished marveling at it, it was dark, and for the next half hour, nothing, not even a ripple touched our line. A group of dads came by with their daughters as well, hoping to catch something and they took a look in our bucket and told us that we had, in fact, caught a snapper. A baby blue fish. Whatever that is. They said this size is good eating because when they get bigger, they get oily and very fishy. You’re allowed to keep 10 under 12 inches, and 5 more if they’re over 12′.

Sophie played with the kids a little and then decided to start heading back. I had been talking to her and preparing her for the fact that we were going to take it home, kill it, cook it, and eat it. She seemed somewhat hesitant but brightened when I said daddy was going to show us how. (He’d been telling me about how he knows all about fishing and had gleefully received my call so he could let me know everything I was possibly doing wrong.)

We walked in the house and she all but shrieked down the hallway, bouncing to Adam and begging him to “Hurry. Come see what we got!” The look on his face was disbelief, and then abject horror when we both looked at him, bright eyed and bushy tailed for him to show us how to process this fish.

“We… have to whack it in the head to kill it. Then we can filet it.” he said meekly. Was it our imagination or was daddy looking a little green?

Okay, I was really apprehensive about this part. I have never taken a life from a creature with a higher brain function than a crab, and for some reason, fish have always had a tender spot in my heart. (Probably because my nickname in Chinese happens to be “Little Fish.”) But I was willing to try. What would be the best way?

A mallet.

We don’t have a mallet. I then remembered an excerpt from a book years ago that said a quick and humane way to kill fish or rodents is to put them in a bag and quickly whack them against a counter.

Adam walked away after that, his heart too soft to watch me kill a fish. Sophie also wandered off as well, though I don’t know if she did so because she was afraid or if she was distracted.

I took a deep breath and hurled it against the counter with as much force as possible in my puny arms.

I’m not going to lie–it hurt me when I did it, and I’m pretty sure it emotionally scarred me, but I knew I had to do it fast and hard so that it wouldn’t suffer. I think it was an important step for me to come to terms with what I did.

Adam came out afterwards to help, and he whacked it again just to make absolute sure it was dead. Sophie also came out of hiding and began looking on in interest, even asking if she could help. I had her pull up a chair so she could watch while I worked.

The knife I had was not sharp enough, and for such a tiny thing, the skin was surprisingly difficult to pierce. I realized I was going to destroy the meat if I just continued to hack at it.

After much debate and realizing I wasn’t going to be able to filet it with my dull knife, I decide to simply gut it, scale it (Adam showed me how), and fry it up in the pan with butter, herbs, lemon, roasted tomatoes, and a splash of alcohol.

This is where the lesson for Sophie came in. After I scaled it and placed all of the ingredients on the counter, I told her we have to thank the fish for giving its life so we could eat. She solemnly thanked the fish, and while my back was turned, told me, “Mommy, I also bowed to the fish. Is that okay?”

This made me tear up and I told her that it was very nice, that it’s important to be grateful for where our food comes from.

(The recipe will follow soon)

After we cooked the fish, we gathered around and I took a bite. I’ll be darned but there is really nothing as tender, juicy, and flavorful as freshly caught fish. Adam, while initially wary, began eating, and then Sophie ate it too. She was a bit reluctant at first, but then she realized how delicious it was and kept asking for more. The fish was small, but we picked it clean.

I think the most important thing is that we all felt a sense of accomplishment as to being able to hunt and process our own food. I believe we gained valuable skills today, as well as possibly start supplying ourselves with essentially free protein.

Fish A La Sophie Recipe

• 1 Blue Fish (or more, if you managed to catch more), scaled and gutted
• 1/4 lemon wedge
• 1 tablespoon butter
• 1 tablespoon all purpose flour or cornstarch
• Cherry tomatoes, halved
• Pinch of Salt, Pinch of pepper
• Herbs (I used rosemary, basil, thyme)
• 1 teaspoon white wine (or Jack Daniels which is what I used today)

1. Dust the blue fish with flour or cornstarch, salt and pepper. Set to the side.
2. Heat butter in a pan over medium high heat, careful not to burn, and place herbs in pan until fragrant.
3. Drop the fish in and fry until both sides are crispy and golden. Add cherry tomatoes and roast. Add alcohol.
4. Remove from pan, place on the plate with cherry tomatoes and squeeze the lemon wedge over it. Enjoy!