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Fish, fish, fish



I state that I do not recommend reading this post for vegetarians.
Men, you know, usually like sports. Not that this physical activity in general is lacking, but still sports that he himself is another matter. Specifically, the San Blas, the sport here is to go fishing with a gun in apnea, ostensibly to feed his wife, daughters and other hungry mouths, but we all know that women here are other reasons and have to do with the primal instincts that are very far.
addition to the mysterious (to me) pleasure boat bobbing up on the reef, then stay for hours to soak before a hole where he fled a fish, waiting to see who first gets tired of waiting for the other soft the position, Alexis is also a day of fishing a few hours of pure escapism, in total freedom, his wife and two illegitimate fruit of his loins, which are abandoned to their fate in the boat with the sailor's promise on time: "I come back soon. "
A little 'how to go to be partying with friends at the bar at the bottom.
I push for responsible fishing, or fishing is just what you eat (and eat all you fishing), also because our fridge is not working well and is not able to hold the fish, which then be cleaned and cooked the same day they are caught, even if a ton of fish.
I say now, I like the small fish. They can flake, gut and fillet a boat without a slaughterhouse, and appropriately private head and tail are in the oven or pan on the barbecue or by boat, as well as in our fridge.
the avoidance of doubt, here the concept of "small" is not the same as we in the Mediterranean. Choosing
as a measure of my Chiaretta 85 cm, or Anna, who is pretty much a meter high, we say that a fish is a small, clearly, a big fish is a clear, a huge fish and Anna is a scary beast is a clear and a half.
However, even during the worst days I have never succumbed to the temptation to put my daughters in the oven, so I can not say with certainty, however, at a guess a half clear in my oven is barely there.
I have now made this postulate: the size of fish caught is directly proportional to the smile of the fisherman. So as I see from afar the glitter of the teeth of the children, returning from their bar, the more my heart is almost overwhelmed by the fate that awaits me.
smile sighted at 50 meters equals one hour minimum of butchery.
Smorfia clenched teeth, a nice dinner tonight in pasta with tomato sauce: his wife consoles including the fisherman disappointed for a day and breathing a sigh of relief!