A Fish Story

You simply cannot buy fresh fish here -- this just amazes me. Here we are, in a beautiful bay, right next to the ocean and the only way you can get fresh fish is (1) catch it yourself or (2) see Ramon. I've talked to a number of people here about acquiring fish and everyone says the same thing -- find Ramon and he will catch some for you.

Well, we haven't found Ramon yet (he likely hangs out with Captain Henry), but I was whining to a friend recently that I have been here six whole weeks and no fresh fish has yet appeared on my table. (And I will have to quickly add that Vince would love to go fishing but his schedule just hasn't allowed it recently) Over the weekend, the friend's husband called me to say that he had "shot" two fish for me. And, when he says shot, he means with a speargun. Both he and his wife are experienced scuba divers, and they routinely fish in this manner.

Our neighbor, Bob (not to be confused with his dog, who is also named Bob), was kind enough to filet the fish for us, since at the time Vince was at work.

One fish was a "cubera snapper" and the other is called a "permit" which was a new name to me. I was expecting something like the little trout you see in the grocery store, but these fish were both huge, and the snapper had teeth -- Vince says that is why it's called a snapper. Hmm....sounds logical to me. (That is Bob holding the snapper on the left.)




Here is the lovely permit. And, I will let you in on Bob's secret to fish photography -- hold the fish as far in front of you as you can. Makes any old fish look impressive. Although, these fish didn't need airbrushing techniques to improve their appearance -- they were both good-sized.

Sunday night we had two other couples join us for our fish feast -- I baked the snapper with onions, lemon slices, cherry tomatoes and some herbs, and a friend grilled the permit for us. (Vince was unable to stand yet due to his sciatica attack.) Well, let me tell you that the fish was fantastic -- especially the permit, which as strange as it sounds, tasted like chicken. No kidding.