1. The French dish truites aux amandes; made with just butter, lemon, parsley and almonds, it is simplicity itself.
2. Seared trout fillets with a sauce of Marsala wine, cream and Japanese shimeji mushrooms.
3. Good old fish and chips, made with trout in a beer batter; it tasted better than some sea-fish I have eaten.

Once I have gained a little skill, I fully intend to hit the mountains and coasts of Japan with my fly rod. There is plenty of game here such as several species of native char and trout, a version of the famous taimen, Hucho perryi, called “itoh” in Japanese, and even our very own Asian salmon, the cherry or masu salmon (“sakuramasu”). Of course these creatures would probably not end up on my dinner plate, as perhaps due to my increasing age I feel less inclined to kill and eat my catch, but I will be sure to send you a photographic record of my fishing trips here.
Cheers,
Adam

Adam and pure gold.

Nice job Adam!

The editorial is 3 pages long, but it’s a great read and I recommend you start at the beginning. However if the internet has modified your behavior patterns, or you’re the type of person who enjoys reading the last page of a novel first, you can skip to the end for the fishing report and food.

Here I will describe the process of making my first bamboo fishing rod, with a few photographs. Some of the stages, particularly the lacquering, I was unable to photograph as I had my hands full; also some of the tools and techniques are trade secrets that must remain in the workshop. For beginners it is usual to start with a rod for either madai (red snapper) or shirogisu (Japanese whiting) with a bamboo body and fibreglass tip. Since I go fishing for whiting much more often than for snapper, I went for the latter type. The first step is the selection of bamboo; there are many varieties, of which about six or seven are used for rod making. My teacher showed me a variety from his stores, which is bamboo which has been cut and then dried for a number of years. So long as the bamboo is kept free of burrowing insects, it can keep for decades; some of his best bamboo is from his own late master, whose stock dates back to before the War. Unlike bamboo ‘cane’ that is split and fashioned into rods in the West, bamboo is almost always used whole for Japanese fishing rods.

Continue reading Making A Traditional Japanese Bamboo Fishing Rod by Adam Guy…

Looks like this Red Snapper bit off more than it could chew! My question is what do you think happened to the animals that ate the snappers flesh, do they get poisoned too?

The photo was taken in Fiji by Jack Hynes, I found this photo and more on his Flickr page.

Adam Guy writes:

One of my fishing buddies volunteered to drive, so we decided to go fishing for a flatfish known locally as ‘ishigarei’ (Stone flounder; Kareius bicoloratus) from the port of Kashima, which is on the Pacific coast of Japan, in Ibaragi Prefecture. My mate and I took three each, including one good-sized fish each; since this was the first attempt at this kind of fishing for both of us, we did quite well.

Unusually the ishigarei does not have scales, but instead a few bony protrusions (the Japanese refer to them as ‘stones’ hence the name) on the skin on its dorsal surface, that produce copious amounts of a rather foul-smelling fish slime. However, if one removes these the fillet of the fish possesses a firm, white yet oily flesh that is quite delicious. Also, unlike most flatfish, they grow quite large and can prove quite amusing to catch; the largest one I took was 47cm long and put up a tremendous fight. To ensure their anglers enjoy the eating of their catch as much as the fishing, most boathouses will kill, bleed and de-stone the fish that you catch for you when you get back to port, and give you salt to rub into their skin to reduce the slime, before packing the fish in ice and going home.

When it came to eating my catch, first I made sashimi. It was quite delicious, without a hint of the smelliness of the live fish, with just the right balance of texture and oiliness. Each fillet is quite long, and preparing sashimi leaves one with a strip of skin that is a shame to waste, so I deep-fried these till crisp, to make an excellent accompaniment to a cold beer. I left the skin on another fillet, and simply chopped it into chunks, dusted these with flour and deep-fried them, and then smothered them with a Thai-style hot-and-sour chilli sauce, with lots of ginger and garlic, and topped with shredded spring onions. The rich flavours of the sauce go well with the white fish, which is sealed in neat crispy parcels…you couldn’t eat better anywhere in Tokyo!

Cheers,
Adam Guy

As always thanks for your contribution Adam!

You can also check out Adam’s other “From the Table” contributions like Japanese Cuttlefish and Japanese Flounder (different variety of Flounder).

How do you catch fish in water over ten meters deep using a rod that does not have a reel, or even guides for your line? Simple: fashion the rod from bamboo, hollow out the centre and run the line through the middle and out the very end of the rod. Wrap your spare line around a couple of pegs at the other end, and you are ready to indulge in the traditional Japanese fishing technique known as tebane.

I first started using this technique to catch a fish known in Japanese as haze. Its scientific name is Acanthogobius flavimanus; however, there appears to be a lack of consensus over its common name in English, with references calling it spiny goby, yellowfin goby or spotted goby. For the sake of simplicity, from here on I will refer to the creatures as just ‘goby’. Gobies are a small, seasonal fish widespread throughout Pacific Asia, and grow up to 20cm in size; they favor muddy habitats and are tolerant of a wide range of temperature and salinity. The traditional goby fishing season starts in September, when the fish migrate from rivers and estuaries to the sea, in order to spawn. Boats packed with goby fans leave port early in the morning from all over Tokyo and Yokohama, and head to sheltered coves and bay areas where the gobies are known to congregate; although the general regions are fairly well known, each skipper has his own secret spot, usually well-managed and handed down from generation to generation by word of mouth. The best goby points are those that are inaccessible from land, preventing others from casting or throwing nets from the shore, and where the waters and tides are relatively calm. When I go fishing for goby, I always use the services of a boathouse called Fukagawa Fujimi, which is located in the southeast of Tokyo. Fujimi is one of the longest-running such businesses in Japan: they have been a family-run affair since before the beginning of the Edo Period, over four hundred years ago. The skipper, a lean, sun-tanned Tokyoite known to regulars as ‘Captain Beard’ due to his whiskers, is famous for both his prowess at catching gobies (which is quite fearsome) and for his no-nonsense, old school approach to not just fishing, but to life in general. Although his countenance is often intimidating to newcomers, he is always happy to take the time to teach beginners – in his thick, east Tokyo accent – the science of traditional goby fishing with bamboo rods, and as a novice I count myself lucky to be able to learn from his vast experience.

Continue reading A Different Kind of Fishing, by Adam Guy

Japan, as an island nation, is surrounded by sea: to her east, the vast Pacific Ocean, the west, the Japan Sea and to the north, the Sea of Okhotsk. Correspondingly, Japan is blessed with a great variety of fish and marine life, large quantities of which end up on the nation’s dinner tables. Japan is also fortunate in that her islands span several climate zones. The southern Ryūkyū Islands, including Okinawa, are tropical, and are home to many varieties of reef-dwelling fish and invertebrates; the northern island of Hokkaidō, on the other hand, has a temperate climate similar to a northern European country and is famous for trout, salmon and cod fishing. In between, one is entertained by a multitude of different climes and corresponding aquatic habitats, each with their local specialty produce: the warm, calm Seto Inland Sea provides nori seaweed, giant mudskippers can be caught on the mudflats of Ariake, cool mountain streams burst with rainbow trout in Nagano, the waters about Izu Peninsular are home to sardines and squid that are cured in saltwater and sun-dried by the locals right on the seaside or the famous deep-sea crabs of the Japan Sea, taken and brought to table so rapidly that they can be eaten raw.

In addition, Japan is lucky that the northward flowing, warm ‘Kuroshio Current’ runs parallel with and south of the main islands, bringing with it a huge range of large, migratory food fish such as skipjack, yellowtail and bluefin tuna. Kuroshio literally translates as ‘Black Current’ or ‘Black Tide’ and gains its name from its dark blue colour when viewed from afar; its waters originate in the Tropics and are very warm, allowing coral reefs to thrive further north from the Equator than any other reef system in the world. The volcanic Izu Islands, approximately seventy miles south of the mainland, lie directly in the flow of this current, and are a magnet for big game fishermen from all over Japan seeking that once-in-a-lifetime marlin, amberjack or grouper. There are also many marine and coastal habitats unique to Japan, such as Tokyo Bay and the Seto Inland Sea, which boast endemic species and are rich sources of foodstuffs to entertain the palates of the natives. The recent popularity of sushi and other Japanese-style foods in North America and Europe is testament not only to the great culinary traditions of the country, but also proves that almost anybody can enjoy fish when it is fresh, and prepared correctly.

Continue reading An Introduction to Fishing Japan