Tonight I cooked up a big ole barracuda in my grill pan. K brought it home from work; one of her staff fished about eight of them out of the Pacific Ocean. This one was large and muscly - MUCH bigger than my upper arm when flexing - and even though he was headless he was a terrifying sight to behold.
K was having trouble deboning him and I shouted something helpful like, "Just rip his spine out" or something like that until I went in to the kitchen and took a good look at his spine which was not like some cute and harmless tilapia bones -- no, this was a long train of herkin animal vertibrae, with long pointy-ass ribs that would spike you in the mouth if you weren't careful. "This is more dinosaur than fish," I said. "Prehistoric." And we didn't even have to look at his toothy face.
So after this battle royale to separate his P90x-ified flesh from his man-bones, we ended up with some lumpy filets that I marinated in some soy sauce and mirin and green onions and garlic and then plopped them in the grill pan and cooked them until they looked like savory corn fritters.
And then we ate them and it was almost 9pm by this time because we had to allow for the marination and I must say they were kind of nasty. Gamey, if such a thing could be said for fish. Not at all delicate, like the sole I cooked up last week. The marinade definitely competed with the flavor of the fish, for better or worse. Better?
There's still another arm of barracuda in the freezer, but I don't think we can handle an encore. We've had our quota of 'cuda.
1 comment:
Yeah, I heard that they are 99% bones. But I think I saw a guy eat one once on Man vs. Wild.
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