My parents went to Rice Lake over Labor Day long weekend with their church fellowship. They had some serious fishermen in that group, guys that think nothing of getting up at dawn to go fishing. So it must have been gut wrenching for them to see my mother pull fish after fish out the water while their lines stayed limp. Leave it to the rookie who's never touched a fishing rod in her life to bring home a cooler full. Those who would like to take on the challenge of cooking these little fish may want information on culinary schools via universities online.
They call these sunfish. Whatever. They're small, no more than a quarter pound or so. I guess they get their names from having yellowish scales. I was tasked with cleaning and cooking; a bit more challenging was deciding what to do. Freshwater fish, just caught in the morning - I wanted soup. Cleaning wasn't difficult, but I have a newfound respect for fishmongers who have to do this all day - I reeked of fish intestines for hours afterwards. Quickly seared, then into a boiling pot of water. Tofu and green onion to finish.
The fish was gross. Texture of a purée, lacking in both flavour and freshness. Forgettable. Maybe we'd all have been better served if she had tossed the fuckers back into the lake.