
Last night I had fish for dinner. It was cod; broiled with salt, pepper, olive oil, and lemon. It was wild and caught from a sustainable fishery. Most importantly, it was delicious.
Eating fish isn’t a typical topic in fly fishing media.
Given, I didn’t get anywhere near my cod while it was still alive. Admittedly there is a disconnect between the paper-wrapped filets I bought at the store and the muscles underlaying the patterns on trout that I fawn over. One is fish. The other is a fish. On the surface that distinction sounds ridiculous. A lot of people don’t understand.
Eating fresh, farmed tilapia at a rural village in Guatemala I saw how confusing this distinction can be. A local and I had been talking, and he knew that I fish for a hobby. Each of us two tilapia in, he asked me how it tasted compared to all the fish I caught in the states. Even if my Spanish was better, I don’t think I could have justified myself enough to assuage his bewilderment.
His circumstances led to the black-and-white thinking that fish are food. In fly fishing culture, our black-and-white thinking says that a good many fish are absolutely not for eating.









