Last week, my son Josh and I spent a day fishing on my aunt’s farm pond. The pond hasn’t been fished much in recent years, and the fish population is a bit out of kilter. It’s overcrowded with small bluegills and bass.
That was good for us, though, because it meant we could keep all the little bluegills we caught and not feel a bit guilty. Getting rid of the overly plentiful panfish will help the lake produce bigger fish. And that meant we had a huge mess of fish to eat when we got home.
My wife and most of my sons, like many people I know, prefer all their fish filleted, even bluegills. No bones, please. I, on the other hand, consider myself something of a bream connoisseur, and I much prefer that my bream be pan-dressed, never filleted, to facilitate the most thorough enjoyment of these scrumptious wild treats. This is done quite simply. Remove all the scales with a spoon, cut off the head, remove the entrails and, voila, you’re finished. Leave the fins, tail and skin on. They enhance the unsurpassed flavor of these popular panfish.
With the fish thus prepared, I dredge them in seasoned cornmeal and drop them in hot peanut oil. After a few minutes, they’re cooked up golden brown and crispy, and as far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing in the world I’d rather eat.
There is, however, a certain way to enjoy such a meal to the utmost. First, pick up the cooked fish (it’s OK to use your hands) and eat the tail. If the fish has been properly fried, this morsel will be crunchy and slightly salty, the piece de resistance. Proper etiquette demands that you nibble your way slowly from the outer edge to the point where the tail joins the body.
You should next grasp the fish’s dorsal fin (the one on top) between your thumb and forefinger, and strip it backward, pulling it and the bones beneath it out of the fish. Munch the crunchy ends if you like, and then discard on your bone plate. (Bream should always be served with a side plate on which the inedible remains can be placed.) Do likewise with the remaining fins.
Now, insert the tip of a fork in the back of the fish, where the dorsal fin was pulled away, and twist slightly to separate one of the fillets from the bones beneath it. Grasp the fillet with your fingertips and gently pull it away in one piece. Near the belly portion, toward the front, you will notice a few small bones—the ribs. Pull these from the flesh, and discard. If you have proceeded properly, you now have in your hand a boneless piece of bream, golden-brown and crispy on one side, and snowy-white with a filigree of tiny black veins on the other. This you may eat.
To complete your pleasurable task, hold the remaining piece of fish, fried-side down, and insert your fork beneath the bones, lifting slightly to pull them away. The bones and cooked fish should separate easily, and by tugging a little, you will soon have the fish’s skeleton in your hands. Discard to the bone plate. Remove any rib bones that remain, and you will have, once again, a boneless fried fillet that is as sweet and delicious as any piece of meat God put on this earth. Eat. Enjoy. Proceed to fish number two, number three, number four and so on, until the fish are gone or your belly is too distended for comfort.
When it comes to good foods, it just doesn’t get any better than this. I’m already looking forward to another day at the pond so I can replenish my stock of little bluegills. The first mess, caught last week, has already disappeared down the gullet of yours truly.
