By: Karen WeHunt Harden, Contributing Writer | wharden1950@gmail.com
The first time I remember going fishing was at Lake Edwin Johnson off SC Highway 295, going down towards Pacolet. I caught a terrapin turtle on a cane pole while participating in a catfish contest. The last time we went fishing together was to Smith’s Lake off Dairy Ridge Road near Camp Croft. Jumping over a little creek, I barely missed stepping on a semi-aquatic viper, a.k.a the cottonmouth water moccasin.
Since my fishing days were absolutely over, I focused on learning to fry fish instead. Mother purchased flounder or perch at Community Cash when it was on sale. Mother bought it frozen in a rectangular log and thawed it out under cold running water. It did not take long. This gave us time to make coleslaw and cut up potatoes for French fries. Mother was a big fan of plain salt and pepper, so she taught me to pat the fish dry after it thawed. I learned not to put too much salt or pepper on it and then dredge the fish in white self-rising cornmeal. She taught me to put the fish in the hot Wesson oil slowly away from me so it would not splatter. Her heavy cast iron frying pan was not huge, so it took two rounds of frying to get it all golden brown. We drained the fish on a platter lined with paper towels. It was tempting to pinch off a bite of the hot fish, and I did snag a bite or two sometimes before everything was ready.
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Author: aryanethsales
