Colorado has its fresh water trout.  Texas has it redfish bay.  Cities have their fish and chips.  And I’ll have fish any place, just make it fried!  Fried fish.

Scene One:  A pan full of trout barely past fingerling stage, cooked on an open fire in the Colorado Rockies.   The pickup camper is in position to give a little shelter from the afternoon sprinkle, the folding chairs are pulled up close by the fire.  Turn only once, fish are crispy and delicious.  Food fit for a king—a poor king but still a king.

Scene Two:  How perfectly delicious are the redfish caught in the Gulf water of South Texas!  Fish fried in the motel kitchenette.  “Don’t turn the fish too soon.”   But that requires patience.  Those fillets are almost an inch thick.  So turn, turn, turn, turn.  The crust is beginning to fall off.  Turn again.  “Are you sure this stove is getting hot enough?” Finally a call that the fish is fork-flaky ready.   Food fit for a king—a poor king, but still a king.

Scene Three:  Crunchy good in fast food chains.  “I’ll have the number seven, please, with vinegar and tartar sauce, please.” Get the forks and napkins.  Let’s sit over here opposite the door.  A bit grungy in here.  Oh, but taste that crunchy fish!  Food fit for a king—a poor king, but still a king.

My requirement for enjoying fish—make it fried and give me plenty.  Poor, rich kings.  Six ounces of fine, fine, fish—braised, browned, blackened, sautéed, seared, stuffed, grilled, rolled, or raw.  Too bad they don’t get to eat with me—mountains, gulf, city; fish—fried and plentiful.  Poor, rich kings.

(Assignment for Blogging lesson ten, favorite food.)

About oneta hayes

ABOUT ME Hello. To various folks I am Neat’nee, Mom, Grandma Neta, Gramma, Aunt Neta, Aunt Noni, Aunt Neno, and Aunt Neto (lots of varieties from little nieces and nephews). To some I’m more like “Didn’t you used to be my teacher?” or “Don’t I know you from someplace?” To you, perhaps, I am a Fellow Blogger. Not “fellow” like a male or a guy, but “fellow” like a companion or an adventurer. I would choose to be Grandma Blogger, and have you pull up a chair, my website before you, while I tell you of some days of yore. I have experienced life much differently than most of you. It was and is a good life. I hope to share nuggets of appreciation for those who have gone before me and those who come after me. By necessity you are among those who come after me and I will tell you of those who came before. Once upon a time in a little house on a prairie - oops, change that lest I commit plagiarism - and change that “house on the prairie” to “dugout on the prairie.” So my story begins...
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  1. Absolutely beautiful writing, Grandma Blogger! I love the poetic voice of your entries and I look forward to reading more of your stories from days of yore.

  2. Love the fish fry idea..great idea to do three in one this way. Now I’m hungry. 🙂

  3. shoreacres says:

    We used to vacation in Minnesota, up on Leech Lake. There were plenty of fish fries there (Walleye) and it was the most delicious fish ever. Unless, of course, you count the fried catfish at our favorite place alongside the Mississippi river. Or the pan-fried perch called sac-au-lait in Louisiana. Oh, yum!

    Now, I dote on fried oysters and shrimp. There are other ways to fix those that are just as good, but none are better.

  4. oneta hayes says:

    Hey, you have opened up new horizons for me. Yours sounds wonderful.

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