The bream bite was good on our most recent fishing trip, just as we expected, and since we had decided to eat some of the fish we caught, that was definitely a good thing. It was Lew’s idea to pack what we needed to cook a shore lunch: some cornmeal, salt, pepper, peanut oil, a few potatoes and onions, two big cast-iron skillets and a Coleman stove.
“Remember when we took Ma down there to fish, and she cooked those fresh bluegills for lunch?” he asked when we were planning the trip. “Well, that was probably the best meal I ever ate. I want to do that again.”
For all intents and purposes, Lew’s mom was my mom, too. I called her Ma Peeler, and during the 30 years or so I was a member of her household, she fattened me on a steady diet of delicious vittles.
Ma was a high-school cafeteria cook of the highest caliber, and it wasn’t in her nature to prepare a normal-sized meal. During rabbit season several years ago, for example, I took a couple of friends with me to hunt cottontails near her home. I asked if she would mind feeding our crew at lunch. She quickly agreed.
“Holy smokes,” one of my friends said when we walked into the dining room at midday. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this much food. My mom doesn’t cook this much for the whole family at Thanksgiving.”
We stuffed ourselves on fried pork chops, roast chicken, mashed potatoes, corn, tomatoes, peas, macaroni and cheese, homemade biscuits, sawmill gravy and three kinds of pie while Ma fawned over us like a maître d’ in a fancy restaurant.
If there’s one thing Ma enjoyed more than cooking for folks, though, it was fishing. Bream fishing in particular. So, Lew and I took her to Jones Lake with us one day to see if we could catch a big mess for our freezers. We did. By noon we had more than 100 bream in our cooler. But even there, in the middle of the river bottoms far from home, Ma couldn’t bear not to do some cooking when dinner time rolled around.
We pulled the boat up on the bank and fired up the Coleman. While the oil heated in big skillets, Ma peeled taters, and Lew and I cleaned fish.
“Better clean a few more,” she said when we’d finished pan-dressing two dozen fat fish. So, we did. An hour later, we sat there in the shade of 500-year-old cypress trees and ate 36 bream, along with a pile of fried potatoes and onions that could have fed an army platoon. She’d brought fried pies for dessert. And there wasn’t a smidgen left when we were done.
I’ve never forgotten that meal, and neither has Lewis.
Ma’s no longer here to cook for us. She’s fishing in heavenly waters now. But as my best friend and I sat beneath the old cypresses today and feasted on fresh-caught bluegills and fried potatoes, it was like she was there with us again, smiling ear to ear.
I could almost hear her. “Have a little more, honey. You’re gonna need your energy to keep up with me fishing this afternoon.”
Here’s the recipe we prepared on the bank of the lake.
Panfish and Taters
- 8 pan-dressed panfish
- 6 slices bacon, cut into 1-inch pieces
- 4 medium potatoes, peeled and cut into bite-size pieces
- 1/2 cup chopped sweet onion
- 1/2 cup corn meal
- 1/2 cup flour
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
Sauté the bacon pieces in a large cast-iron skillet until almost, but not quite, crisp. Spoon a little of the bacon grease (to cook the fish in) into a cup and set aside. Add potatoes and onion to the skillet. Cook, stirring, until potatoes are nicely browned and bacon is crisp.
While the potatoes are cooking, shake together the corn meal, flour, salt and pepper in a zip-seal plastic bag. Add the fish, and shake to coat.
Push the potatoes to one side of the skillet, then add the extra bacon grease and heat. Add as much fish as you can without crowding it, and cook until the coating is crispy and golden. Cook the remaining fish, and serve piping hot with potatoes on the side.
Be sure to check out one of our earlier blogs on eating bream, too.
