When I tell people that I enjoy fishing, chances are the first question I’ll get is Have you ever caught a Marlin? I will usually say, No because it doesn’t taste good. Right there lies the difference between what I think of as fishing, and what fishing means to many others.

To clarify, I sense no conflict between these two “camps” of fishing because they’re often interchangeable. For example, fishing for tuna is almost always done for both sport and food at the same time. The sensation you get from fighting any fish is the same whether you’re ultimately going to release it or eat it. It’s what happens after the fight that matters.

Ultimately, the reason I don’t fish for sport is that I don’t see the need to exhaust, injure or possibly kill fish when I have no intention of eating it. For me it has to do with respect for the animal, and don’t feel that sportfishing is inherently a respectful activity. If the police started arresting people on the streets with the only intention of releasing them, you probably wouldn’t feel any gratitude when being released.

I don’t eat every fish I’m legally and morally entitled to keep. I’ve released quite a few for many reasons, stemming from already having enough all the way to not preferring that fish’s flavor. However, I’ve rarely fished days without hope of catching something delicious.

The merits of fishing are debatable either way, but at the end of the day everybody has to eat something. I feel that I’ve treated my body and the environment better by eating a fish caught myself, rather than something snagged in a gillnet with tons of bycatch. Or something worse like the abomination that is your average hamburger.

Do you fish for sport, food, or both? Would you make an argument for either?

I started fishing not that long ago, and have since felt a small sense of guilt when discarding a fish carcass. I never had this feeling before, but personally seeing to its end changed my outlook, and I do my best to use everything now. These are some ways I’ve learned to use every part of the fish.

Body

For most fish, the meat from the body is going to primarily be found in the filet. Once you’ve cut this off of the fish, you’ll notice that there’s a lot of meat left in-between the bones in the skeleton. What I usually like to do then is take a short, sharp knife and scape as much meat off of there as possible. Depending on how well you can filet a fish, this might mean a lot of extra meat. You can make fish cakes with it, or just flake it onto something like your pasta.

When I cook a fish whole, such as trout, I actually peel the skin off and take the meat off of the bones. The meat that’s normally in all the nooks and crannies of the fish skeleton are very easy to remove after it’s cooked, so that’s an option. The best part of this meat is that it’s usually the more tender and flavorful than the filets (in a good way).

Head

For me the fish head is one of the most underrated parts of an animal, and there’s no other way to prepare it than by slow-roasting. Something amazing happens as the head cooks slowly in the oven – it becomes more and more tender as the gelatin begins to melt away and seep into the remaining flesh. This means that while other parts of the fish are very sensitive to overcooking, this part actually favors the longer cooking times.

In larger fish, eating the cheek is a delicacy in its own right. The cheek meat, for many of the aforementioned reasons, is much more tender than filet meat. Even though I’m normally not fond of Alaskan Halibut, the cheeks are absolutely delicious.

Bones

Fish bones are actually an excellent source of calcium that rival even milk. I usually enjoy the softened bones of canned sardines, but for a fish that you just caught I can’t imagine gnawing on the leftover bones. Luckily it’s fairly well-covered that you can deep fry those bones into something palatable. There’s a good starter recipe at Serious Eats.

The other thing you can do with bones is make fish stock. This would generally be preferred for leaner fishes like Halibut, Rockfish or Lingcod. Fattier fishes can be used, but they tend to taste fishy.

Skin

One of my favorite treats is what I call “fish bacon”. With that leftover skin (assuming you don’t keep it on the filet), try seasoning/frying it in a pan with some oil – just like, yep, bacon. I prefer the fattier fishes like Salmon or Trout for this, but most scaled fish skins will work.

Other parts

What’s left? The gills and stomach of course, but I’m not suggesting you eat these! The gills will not taste very good, as it’s where much of the blood in a fish is stored – which when left to touch the meat gives it the foul seafood flavor everyone hates. The guts, while you can use these for some things, shouldn’t be consumed in the vast majority of fish. Mercury and other toxins concentrate here more than anywhere else, so it’s safe to recommend discarding these.

Do you use the entire fish? What are some other ways to use the leftovers?

Cold winds, heavy equipment and dodging park police – every time I go crab fishing from the beach I deal with at least two of these things. It’s worth it once you can taste that perfectly fresh, buttery strip of crab meat from a creature that was just fighting you 20 minutes ago. This is why I like to catch my own Dungeness crab. Most people think to catch them in a net from the pier, but those who want the big ones will catch them from the beach. Here’s some tips on how you can too..

On any given day, at least 40 groups of people line Pacifica Pier during crab season each year. If you think about how many large crabs are under the pier at that moment, you begin to realize your prospects of a decent crab haul are pretty slim. This is what draws me to more isolated beaches with a snare and fishing pole in hand. With the added regulations, extra equipment and skill requirements, the barrier to entry is high enough to deter most from doing it this way. Besides, who has heard about catching crab with a fishing pole?

Regulations

Like every government document, the California fishing regulation book is the size of a small novel and reads like a terms of service brochure. However, if you don’t follow them you can get a big ticket, especially since fishing laws don’t give you the benefit of the doubt. Since I read them every year, here’s what you need to know:

• California’s recreational Dungeness crab season starts in November and typically lasts into June. Keep an eye on the Department of Fish and Game calendar for the season’s start/end times.
• You can only keep up to ten Dungeness crabs that are a minimum of 5-3/4 inches in width, and you must have a measuring device on you. This can even be a 2×4 piece of lumber cut to 5-3/4 inches, as long as it’s accurate. You also need to learn how to measure a crab.
• You can’t catch them anywhere in California. For starters, the entire San Francisco/San Pablo bay is closed to Dungeness crab harvest year-round.

Equipment

If you’re not deterred by regulations, here’s the equipment that you’ll need:

• Crab Snare. Not all crab snares are equal- try to find one which has weights attached, and a slim profile. Think local bait shop before big box store.
• Fishing license. 1-day, 2-day and annual are all available, and you can buy them online.
• Bait such as frozen squid or sardines. Most recommend squid because of how well it holds in the bait cage when crabs are picking at it. Sardines typically turn to mush too quickly, but they can sometimes be the flavor of the day for big crabs.
• 9 – 12 foot fishing pole with a medium-heavy or heavy action
• 25 – 30 lb. test fishing line
• Waders (or waterproof boots, at least)
• Crab measuring device
• A 5-gallon bucket

Before you go

There’s just a couple more things you need to know before heading out:

• Keep an eye on the ocean conditions. Having a high ocean swell is good for surfing, but prone to knocking crabs off of your snare are you’re reeling them in. It could also mean the difference between you having a comfortable, dry trip and one where you’re soaked. Winter weather can be unpredictable, so I like to look on sites like Swellinfo. Anything “waist”-high or lower is ideal, which is about 3-4 feet.
• Know the tides. While you can catch crabs on any tide, I have more success on incoming tides (when the water level is rising). This makes sense since the water is pushing food closer to shore, which the crabs follow.

Technique

Now that you’re an expert you need to find a beach. Dungeness crab typically reside in sandy environments, but keep in mind there has to be a food source nearby as well – think a rocky area that leads to a sandy environment, or anywhere that’ll collect nutrients in the ocean.

Once at your beach, load up your snare with bait and pack it as tightly as you can. Walk up to the shore and wade as far into the water as you’re comfortable. Cast the snare out into the waves ahead of you – keep in mind that if crabs are around you don’t need a huge cast, but you want to get your snare beyond the first set of breakers so the waves don’t move it around too much.

After casting, open the bail and go back up the beach. Once you’re in position, close the bail and reel in the line slack. If your snare has enough weight and the waves aren’t too big, you won’t feel the snare moving much. If your line goes slack or the current pulls too much, you’ll either need more weight on the snare or it needs to be re-cast further.

If you’re content with your snare position, wait between five and ten minutes to reel in your catch. With a snare, you’ll need to “set the hook” to get a good grip on the crab’s legs. Start moving towards the water with the rod tip pointed down, reeling up the slack as you go (just be careful not to pull the snare). Once you’re near the edge of the water, pull back in a sharp, fluid motion so the snare gets pulled quickly – this closes the loops around the unsuspecting crabs’ leg. Start reeling immediately and consistently. You can’t let the line go slack for a second, or else the crab will be released. If the reeling is getting too difficult, start walking backwards up the beach. This keeps the line tight while you struggle to keep reeling.

You’ll know you have a crab if reeling is much more difficult than reeling in the snare alone. If it feels empty, stop reeling immediately and just let the snare drop back down to the bottom. Otherwise, keep going until the crab is safely on the beach. Measure it before going too far, so you can easily release it. If it’s 5-3/4 inches or larger, congratulations! Fill your bucket with some fresh seawater and put the crab in there. The crabs will use up all the oxygen in the water quickly, so try to change the water every 30 minutes to an hour (depending on how many crabs you have).

Finally you’re left with the fun task of hauling a bucket of crabs and your equipment back up the beach. This after you’ve worked your arms off reeling them in from the ocean. But nobody said getting the freshest crab possible was easy!

The sun in San Francisco can be so deceiving. Despite a picture-perfect view of the Golden Gate Bridge, I was freezing in strong winds that had literally just come from the arctic. Despite this I was intent on learning what kind of seafood lie yards away from the bars, restaurants and attractions that I frequent any given day in my home city.

After my first tour with Kirk Lombard I couldn’t help but be curious about his Inner City Fishing Tour, which promises to show you what edibles you can find on the urban shores of San Francisco (for better or worse!). Luckily my girlfriend was reading my mind and surprised me with this romantic Valentine’s day gift.

While the last tour focused on clams and other mud dwellers, this one focuses on whatever the hell you can get. Among the easiest you’ll find are mussels and limpets stuck to the rocks along Marina Green. With a little bit of work, you could catch rock crab, herring and even Monkeyface eels.

Like anyone, I was at first a bit skeptical about the safety of seafood from a bay so notorious for it’s mercury, PCB and DDT levels (among other toxins). However, the overriding theme of this tour was to dispel any misgivings you may have about eating what you catch here. Kirk made several points on this:

• Observing where bay mussels gave way to ocean mussels, suggesting that more fresh ocean water goes through this area
• That crabs actually retain so little mercury in their meat that you can eat 5 servings a week
• Some fish like halibut, salmon and herring spend most of the year in the ocean, and only come into the Bay to spawn
• Not every sewer pipe to the bay is used. The one we were working by hasn’t been used in years

Despite learning a lot, we certainly weren’t catching a lot. After a fairly dramatic delivery of bait by boat, Kirk had cast out a snare to try and catch some crab (See: Catching crab from shore). Without anything to show for 20 minutes of effort, we moved on and actually found a couple of them, tauntingly waiting in a quiet area of the harbor. We were able to coax one out to play, under the curious eyes of the increasing tourist traffic.

We continued down the jetty to try our hand at poke-polling for Monkeyface eels. This technique involves sticking a baited hook attached to a stick under rocks, and pissing the eel off into biting. Unfortunately we had no luck with this either, despite staying after class.

The highlight for me came with learning how to use a cast net. It’s one of those things where if no one shows you, you’ll look like an idiot for quite a while trying to figure it out. Luckily I got the hang of it pretty quick and will have to make the investment in one sometime soon!

If this stuff (and baseball) interests you, you should definitely check out Kirk’s Blog and his tours sometime.

What a December! We just wrapped up four Crabsgivings this month, where we invite friends over to feast on fresh live Dungeness crab. This is always fun because I cook the crabs on the spot to the awe and/or horror of friends who witness the delicious tragedy. Headcount this year? 50 crabs. I should start scratching a tally for each crab on the side of the steamer.

Starting this year, we decided to serve other crab dishes in addition to the freshly steamed crab. The crab cakes really stood out with everyone, so I took the time to figure out how I did them rather than my usual “a dash here, a pinch there” method.

Recipe

Makes 18 small crab cakes

Ingredients:

• 1 lb. fresh Dungeness crab meat, cooked
• 1/4 cup crab butter (the yellow juice from the head)
• 1/4 cup crackers, crushed
• 1/2 cup panko breadcrumbs (for mixture)
• Extra panko breadcrumbs for breading
• Flour for breading, about 1/2 cup
• 1/4 cup Safflower mayonnaise (regular is ok too)
• 2 eggs
• 1 tablespoon Sriracha hot sauce
• 2 teaspoons soy sauce
• 1/2 teaspoon fish sauce
• 1 teaspoon sesame oil
• 4-5 cloves of garlic, minced
• 2 stalks of green onion, chopped
• 1 tablespoon olive oil

For aioli:

• 1/4 cup lemon juice
• 2 teaspoons paprika
• 2-3 cloves of garlic, minced
• 1/2 cup Safflower mayonnaise (regular is ok too)
• 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
• salt and pepper to taste (about 1/2 teaspoon of each for me)

Start by preheating the deep fryer to 350 degrees F (you can also pan fry on medium-high heat). Sauté the green onions in the olive oil until soft, about 3 minutes. Combine soy sauce, eggs, fish sauce, sesame oil, Sriracha, garlic and mayonnaise in a mixing bowl and stir until it’s consistent. Then add the crab, crackers, panko breadcrumbs and green onion and continue mixing until the crab meat has flaked, and the mixture has a pasty consistency.

In a separate shallow dish, combine equal parts panko and flour. Roll the crab cakes into balls about the size of an ice cream scoop, then dip in the breading mixture until coated. Set aside and flatten them slightly.

Drop the finished crab cakes into the fryer and cook until just golden brown on the outside, about 1.5 to 2 minutes.

For the aioli, simply combine all of the ingredients into a mixing bowl, and use an egg beater until it’s mixed evenly. Serve with the hot crab cakes.

We scour the featureless mud looking for something only our guide can see – a tiny hole in the sand. I get distracted for a second when the same mud tried to suck my shoe off, and look up in time to see our tall leader in a Santa Claus hat jump in the air and land in the mud. A geyser of water spits a foot into the air between his feet and he exclaims, “That’s a good one!”. This is Kirk Lombard, and I am on my first sea forager tour.

In no time he’s shoveling the mud away and places a homemade tube fashioned out of a wide PVC pipe around the spout. After digging for over three feet he reaches in to claim his prize: a horseneck clam. “It didn’t get this name because it looked like a horse’s neck,” he proudly exclaims.

Kirk is an interesting guy – an eclectic mad fisherman of sorts who can tell you almost anything about life in these oceans. His mission is to educate people about local, under-harvested, yet delicious species of sea creatures as alternatives to exploited ones. His blog, The Monkeyface News, is a site that I’ve read consistently for nearly three years, and has opened my eyes to all of the delicious seafood that I would have never thought to buy.

After digging up several clams with great effort, we got to navigate the web of intertidal life among the rocks. In it he pointed out a plethora of edible sea life, including mussels, limpets, sea urchin, and kelp. More importantly he warned about harvesting them in a responsible way and taking care not to destroy the habitat they live in.

We then set out in search of a fish that Kirk got his brand from – the Monkey Face eel. He’s always quick to point out that it isn’t actually an eel, but a prickleback. He has credentials, too. Kirk holds the California state record for this eel, er, prickleback. Unfortunately we were bad luck for him this particular evening, and he wasn’t able to catch one. Luckily someone else shared their catch for us – which included three pricklebacks and a very nice Cabezon.

He then hurried us back on to shore because the harvesting of shellfish is illegal at night (to protect the sensitive abalone fishery). Quite possibly being one of the only people on the tour left with an appetite, I took home a nice bounty of mussels, clams and a couple of greenlings. These became part of a lovely seafood stew the next evening to the delight of my brothers.

I’d highly recommend the tour if you are interested in this sort of thing. Even if you never attempt to harvest anything on your own, you’ll find newfound respect for seafood which will hopefully make you a better consumer! His tours can be found at http://seaforager.com/tours/

For many people, the image of “fishing” is one that takes place on a pristine lake or stream, not unlike the beautiful imagery from A River Runs Through It. Contrast that to my first couple of years fishing overcast days in the rough Pacific Ocean for a venemous fish; this concept was foreign to me. However, I finally got one of those trips out with my Uncle when visiting him in Bridgeport, CA

Ever fish for trout? How do you feel about eating them versus pure catch and release?