After a rainy night in June or July, and the foggy, drizzly morning that often followed, Pa might forgo his usual rainy-day work, such as fixing fence or cleaning out the calf pen, and suggest we go fishing. Farm work kept us so busy in summer that we fished only a few times during those months. But we loved fishing, and we always had our cane fishing poles at the ready, tucked up under the eaves of the corncrib where they would be out of the weather but retrievable with the first hint that fishing was a possibility. The poles, purchased at Hotz’s Hardware in Wild Rose, were twelve to fourteen feet long, long enough so we could toss a line out into the lake from shore, but not so long that we tangled one another when we fished from a boat. We used thick green fishing line, all wrapped around the pole, as we had no fancy fishing reels. Our rule of thumb was to have the line half again as long as your pole—thus a twelve-foot pole had eighteen feet of line. Big red-and-white bobbers were fastened to the line, but only tentatively, as we’d have to adjust them according to the depth of the water. We each had a hook (also from Hotz’s, where they were sold in bulk) tied to our line and a couple of extras in case a monster fish managed to tear a hook loose. (That never happened in my experience.)
Once we had retrieved our poles and tied them onto the roof of the 1936 Plymouth, we found an empty pork and beans can, grabbed a six-tine fork from the barn, and went digging in a moist spot behind the chicken house where earthworms were usually in abundance, unless it happened to be a drier than average year. We counted the worms as we found them, usually declaring that three or four dozen were enough.
Then we were off to Norwegian Lake, talking on the way about whether the fish would be biting and what we might catch. Arriving at the lake, we stopped at the Thompson farm, which had boats for rent—leaky wooden boats, one dollar for all day.
Pa took the oars and rowed us to a place where he said the bluegills would be biting. Not long after we dropped the anchor, baited our hooks, and flung our lines into the water, sure enough, the bluegills began biting. After a couple of hours, we had twenty- five or so hand-sized fish, some larger and some smaller, in the five-gallon pail that we had brought along. One of us kept an eye on the leaky boat, and if necessary did a little bailing to keep our feet from getting wetter than they already were. When the fish are biting, who pays much attention to whether the boat’s filling with water?
Herman fishing from a boat, 1968
Back home, with our fishing poles tucked up under the corncrib eaves and the extra worms dumped on the ground behind the chicken house, we cleaned our catch, looking forward to a fish fry that evening.
PREPARING PAN FISH FOR COOKING
For bluegills, sunfish, and perch, the commonly caught pan fish, we removed the scales, cut off the heads, and removed the entrails, in that order. We’d do the scaling outside, as the scales tend to fly in every direction. (For those concerned about bones, take hold of the back of the fish and spread it open, which reveals the back and side bones. Most bones can be removed in one motion.) Then we’d wash the fish in cold water, and it was ready for the cast-iron skillet. Pa said there was nothing sweeter than eating pan-fried bluegills caught in cold water and prepared within a few hours.
This ice fishing group in 1956 included (left to right) Herman Apps, Frank Kolka, Donald Apps, Darrel Apps, and David Kolka.
Summer fishing was more fun than a necessity. But Pa took ice fishing more seriously, as winter-caught fish were a major supplement to our meat supply. Not that ice fishing wasn’t fun, as long as you dressed for it, had a more than average amount of patience, didn’t mind sitting by a smoky campfire, and could put up with nonstop storytelling. All of the above were integral parts of ice fishing when I was a kid.
Mount Morris was our favorite lake for ice fishing. It was relatively shallow, with a goodly population of northern pike along with bluegills, sunfish, bass, and perch, and it featured a wooded area on the west side where we could build a campfire, get out of the wind, and still see our tip-ups. Occasionally Pa would bring along his pan-fishing equipment with the idea of snagging a few bluegills, but this was clearly a cold weather project as the fisherman hunched over a little hole in the ice, far from the warm campfire, hoping a bluegill might bite. (Mostly they didn’t.) What we really wanted were northern pike. The bag limit was five pike per person per day. We usually did not catch our limit, for that would mean twenty fish for me, Pa, and my brothers. But we did sometimes return home with ten pike, ranging from two or three pounds to five pounds or more.
We fished most days during Christmas break, and on winter weekends when school was in session. Ma packed a lunch for us, and we were off to the lake. We usually arrived at the lake by ten or so, after the barn chores were finished. At our fishing spot, we were often greeted by the Kolka boys, Jim and Dave, who liked ice fishing. My uncle Wilbur was usually there too, along with the Nelsons and the Keenlances.
At noon we found a forked stick in the brush along the shore. Then we opened our lunch pails, dug out our sandwiches, and toasted them over our smoky campfire. The sandwiches were often cheese, which would melt just a bit, or perhaps bologna, which tasted so much better when it was roasted a bit over the fire. Crisp apples and Ma’s homemade chocolate chip cookies rounded out the noon meal.
Winter days are short, so by four in the afternoon it was already becoming dark as we headed for the car with our day’s catch. Back home, we cleaned the fish. The common way of preparing northern pike for cooking is to filet them, meaning you cut strips of the meat away from the backbone and skin the fish before cooking it, but Pa did not believe in fileting fish—he said it wasted too much meat. Instead we scaled them (leaving on the skin), cut off the heads and removed the entrails, and then cut the fish into pieces about two inches thick. (To those who might complain about bones left in the fish, Pa had no answer other than telling them to eat around the bones.) Ma prepared pike in a variety of ways, including frying and baking. Pa also pickled northern pike to preserve it—a process that caused the unwelcome bones to disintegrate.
Dip fish in milk. Sprinkle with salt, pepper, and paprika. Then roll in flour, cornmeal, cracker crumbs, or bread crumbs to coat. Heat oil or melted shortening in a pan. Add fish quickly and cook over medium heat until fish is crisp and golden on the underside. Gently turn with a spatula and cook until the fish flakes easily with a fork. Total cooking time is about 8 minutes. Drain fish on paper towels and transfer to a platter. Keep warm until ready to serve.
Homemade Fish Sauce
1 cup mayonnaise
1 tablespoon sweet pickle relish
1 tablespoon minced onion
1–2 tablespoons lemon juice
Salt and pepper
Garlic pepper sauce or Tabasco sauce (optional)
Mix the mayonnaise, pickle relish, and minced onion in a bowl. Stir in the lemon juice. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Tastes better if you refrigerate for an hour before serving. For a spicy sauce, add garlic pepper sauce or Tabasco sauce to taste and use less pickle relish.
1 cup flour
2 teaspoons garlic powder
½ teaspoon salt
⅛ teaspoon pepper
1 egg, beaten
1½ cups beer
2 cups crushed cornflake cereal or bread crumbs
1 pound fish fillets, cleaned and ready to fry
Oil for frying
Set up the fish-coating stations like this:
Mix together the flour, garlic powder, salt, and pepper in one bowl.
Mix together the beaten egg and beer in another bowl.
Have the crushed cornflakes or bread crumbs ready on a plate.
When everything is ready, prepare each fillet, keeping one hand “dry” for the flour bowl and crumbs plate and one hand “wet” for dipping into the egg and beer. Place the fillet in the flour and lightly dust with flour mixture. Place fish in egg-and-beer bowl and turn to coat thoroughly. Dip the egg-coated fish into the crumbs and thoroughly coat all sides.
Heat the oil in a large, deep skillet. Fry the fish until golden brown and the fish flakes easily with a fork. Place fried fish on layers of paper towels while waiting to serve.
4 to 6 freshwater fish
Salt and pepper
2 tablespoons lemon juice
¼ cup butter, melted
Clean the fish and rinse well in cold water. Season with salt and pepper. Mix the lemon juice and melted butter. Put the fish in a greased pan and pour the butter and lemon juice over the fish. Bake at 350 degrees until the fish flakes easily with a fork, about 30 minutes.
Baked Northern Pike
1 large onion, chopped
Butter
2 northern pike, cut in 2-inch-thick slices
1 can (16 ounces) seasoned stewed tomatoes
Salt and pepper
1 teaspoon basil leaves
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a pan, sauté the onions in butter. Place the pike slices in a greased baking pan. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Place lightly cooked onions on the fish. Spoon the tomatoes over the fish slices. Sprinkle the basil over the fish. Bake until the fish flakes easily, about an hour depending on the thickness of the fish.
4–5 slices bacon, uncooked
2 pounds fish fillets, cleaned
½ cup condensed tomato soup or homemade tomato sauce
2 medium onions, sliced
Salt and pepper
Lemon slices
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Place 2 slices of bacon in a greased baking dish. Place fish on top of the bacon. Cover with remaining bacon. Mix the tomato soup with enough water to make a sauce, or use tomato sauce. Add the sliced onions and salt and pepper to taste to the sauce. Pour carefully over the fish. Place lemon slices on the fish. Bake until the fish flakes easily with a fork, about 30 minutes. Check the dish during baking to be sure there is liquid in the bottom and add water if necessary. To serve, place fish on a platter with bacon and sauce from the pan.
Pickled Fish
These are the directions as they were written on Eleanor’s recipe card:
Clean fish. Cut into pieces. Soak in salt water, 1 cup of salt in 1 quart of water, for 24 hours.
Drain the fish and rinse. Soak in clear vinegar for 24 hours. Save the vinegar for brine.
Boil 9 cups of vinegar, 2 cups of water and 1 cup of sugar and 2 tablespoons of pickling spice.
Pour this over fish and pieces of onions. Ready to eat in 24 hours.