On Food: Brook Trout

Sometimes it pays to not go home, even when you want to.

The Fish

Short story: I started fly fishing around 2012, thinking I would become a creek and stream trout angler. I bought some stuff. And then came the realization that although I lived in Vermont where there is good trout fishing, where I was living was mostly warm water and big fish—not trout for the most part.

I don’t really like to drive. So coming to terms with driving a ways to fish didn’t settle well. At least at the time. So, after a year or two of frustration, I learned to fish warm water. Changed my expectations. Caught a few fish. Then started catching more fish.

In 2023, I moved to rural Maine. Most of what I had learned in Vermont about big water and warm water fishing doesn’t work here. This is brook trout and salmon country. Cold water. Old habits die hard. I’ve been slow to learn these cold water fisheries. Lame, I know.

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My turkey season never really got started this year. Few birds have been around where I have permission and with Maine Guide exam prep and other non-sporting considerations going on in my life, I haven’t tried much. I did have a dalliance with a Tom earlier this week. Got him coming in with some clucks, but he decided I wasn’t worth it and moved off. I never saw him so it didn’t hurt too bad.

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Back to fishing. I have been getting out a little. I’m making myself learn this cold water fishing. I do enjoy it. I have a spot where my dog can self-entertain. It’s good fishing in early spring when there are lake trout, called togue around here, and brook trout in shore. Casting from the breakwater and dock at this sole public access point works. Later, starting in early summer, panfish, a few trout and smallmouth bass are there. Today was in between. After maybe 90 minutes of disinterested fishing, I was ready to go home. Semi-sulking. There were some nice bass visible and they would follow my streamers, but no takers as they are nest-minding. I finally caught a tiny pumpkinseed to avoid the skunk. But I was done. Rationalized that I’m just getting my casting in order and sorting my stuff. I broke down my gear and hiked out.

The parking is across a road that has enough traffic to make crossing with my unleashed bird dog a bit scary. So I usually stand at the public boat launch and collect the pup, wait for a good moment, then gallop him and me across to the truck.

I was standing there, looking down in the water waiting for the pup to accept we were leaving. He didn’t want to go. I decided to give him a couple more minutes. I looked at the water again. It’s the outlet for the lake at that spot and the current through the gate is pretty good. I realize after a couple of double takes that there were a few trout there. I wanted to give in to the “time to go” vibe. Confidence was low. But then I imagined the voice of a guide I worked with last fall: “You have to stay with it until the bitter end.” I tried to man up. “Stay and go for these fish” I heard myself think.

I gathered the pup, we raced furiously across. I got to the truck. My dog loped along, sad faced. He does this when we approach the truck before the drive home. I dropped the gate, put away the 6 wt daily driver and grabbed my 4 wt bamboo. Swapped the streamers for some small stuff and headed back to cross the road again. Pup was confused but thrilled. When I said “OK” he went back across to play in the water at full gallop. I walked across and tried to pump myself up. I rigged up. Tied on a copper john. The fish were close. I’m basically sight fishing, jigging. They looked off my copper john. I tried a midge. Meh. I’m really not expert at this stuff. Confidence was already dropping, not that I have much. I put on a hare’s ear nymph. I let it drift at them. They were right in front of the outlet grate. I tried about 6 times. They hit but won’t take.

Vintage bamboo 4 wt. Akron Medalist. Maine brook trout.

A few more swings. Then he took it. Strip set. Fish on. No line out so that was it. I imagine my guide’s voice again: “I told you so. Good work.” Persistence and humility pay dividends.

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I made a Meta post and got some ideas for cooking from Hank Shaw’s Hunt Gather Cook group. I went for a pan roast in bear fat with some late season ramps I scored, along with a sauté of jerusalem artichoke, shiitake and the ramps. Served it on boiled wood nettles which are coming into season. I’ll be doing a post on the wood nettle soon. One of my favorite wild plants.

The Meal

Trout stuffed with a bit of lemon and ramps.

Carbon steel pan sear in black bear fat

Plated brook trout

Filleted and buttered. So tasty.

I learned a lot in 2 hours of fishing. All of the learning seemed to be in the last 10 minutes. But really, the learning was to keep my head in. I was frustrated and headed for home. I needed to get over the first 90 minutes. Fortunately, I found a way to get my head back into the right headspace and got a nice fish.

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Of course, now I’m planning to work harder on my cold water fly fishing. I’ll probably let the last two days of turkey season go. I’ve got 3 turkeys in the freezer. I need to get my tying bench cleaned up and start tying some stoneflies and other daily driver stuff for the season ahead. Tight lines all.

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Remember to enjoy your time making good food. Make your cooking time fun and full of love. Eat slowly with your family, friend and loved ones. Tell the important stories of the food.

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Good cooking, good eating, good loving - K. Paul