Anna Maria Island, December 11, 1986
Don’t underrate mullet
By Gib Bergquist
This Cracker loves mullet!
Since we are now at the height of our local mullet season, I would like to share with you
a little mullet adventure I experienced in Puerto Rico.
Lake Guajataca glimmers
like a diamond set high in the mountain. Its outlet to the Atlantic Ocean is Rio Guajataca
which, for most of the year, is a dry river bed. During the dry season, the ocean builds
up a beautiful sandy beach across the mouth of the river bed — effectively disguising
the river’s existence to the casual visitor. 
I awoke one morning to
meet the dawn and greet the sun, as is my custom. As I walked the beach I observed an
awesome thing. Torrential rains during the night had caused the lake to overflow. The
resulting flood flashed down the mountain and washed away a section of the beach. What had
been a quiet beach was now the mouth of a raging river abounding in fish. I’m not
sure whether the fish were trying to go upriver or out to sea — they seemed to be
swimming in both directions. My guess is probably some of both.
As soon as word of the
bounty had spread the local country folk appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, with their
castnets and washtubs to harvest the bonanza.
I climbed to a small
promontory in order to get a bird’s eye view of this phenomenon. Much to my surprise,
below me, swimming in the quiet water of the instant flats created in the flooded low
areas surrounding the river’s mouth, were large schools of mullet. Having left my
castnet in Anna Maria, I thought I could best serve as mullet spotter to the castnetters
below. In my best “Spanglish,” I shouted out and pointed out the swarming
schools to the netters. To my utter dismay, I was completely ignored.
By now I was in a mullet
frenzy. Believing there must be some sort of communications gap, I tried again.
The netters below were
beginning to wonder about that shouting gringo 
above them who kept madly pointing to the water
beyond their nets. But they continued to throw their nets into the swiftly moving water
and pull them in full of small sardine-size fish. Each time, the fish were dumped into the
washtubs and the netters turned around for another throw. One of the netters finally
realized what I was shouting about and said “no senor, ese pescado no sirve.”
(Those fish are worthless.)
I, for once, was
speechless. Could he possibly be referring to my noble vegetarian delicacy?
Yes, it is true. Mullet
are not eaten there, having the stigma of saltwater catfish here.
The fish they were netting
are called “pesetas.” And they are eaten head, scales and all in a delicious
fish chowder. Some of my non-cracker friends have expressed the same attitude about mullet
as my Puerto Rican friends — suitable only for bait. How sad.
Now I don’t want to
set off a run on the mullet like chef Paul Prudhomme has done with his blackened redfish,
but I would be remiss if I didn’t share with you my cracker recipe for fried mullet.
Here it is:
Cut fresh boneless mullet
fillets into nuggets of about two mouthfuls. Set-up three bowls in assembly-line fashion
leading to a frying pan. Put flour in the first bowl, evaporated milk in the second and
cornmeal seasoned with a little paprika, salt and pepper in the third. Place enough oil in
the frying pan to cover the nuggets and preheat to about 375 degrees. You may have to set
the temperature higher to keep your frying temperature during the cooking process.
The morsels are quickly
rolled in the flour, dipped in the milk, and rolled in the cornmeal before they are
dropped into the hot oil. Quick-fry the delectable chunks until they are golden brown.
Remove and drain on paper towels. Serve with cheese grits and cole slaw. To prepare cheese
grits, cook grits according to the package instructions — then stir in butter and
your favorite freshly grated cheese. Cheddar works just fine.
Enjoy!
From Cracker's Crumbs, ©1995 Gib Bergquist