Nectar of the SEA ...

Write about catching and or cooking and or eating your favorite seafood ... tell me about crabbing in the Carolinas ... fly fishing ... that favorite pub nobody knows about that serves the most glorious fish n chips ...oysters on the bayou ...loup de mer ... or grilled octopus ....

Make your work a true sensory experience ... I want to taste the brine and or feel the warmth of the kitchen ...  

Poem or prose ... old or new (as long as it didn't win a previous competition)... One week ... Up to two entries

http://charbroiledoysters.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/charbroiled-oysters.jpg

http://www.bassfishingguidesusa.com/images/bass-fishing.jpg

http://www.fluxmagazine.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/Fish-Chips-3.jpg

on a deep sea expedition into mariana's trench long,long ago unknown by mortal men sweet baby prince under the orders of big daddy ray liotta discovered malt liquor and gave it to us all.our father ray liotta who art in heaven already new but this is where he sent his only son sweet baby prince to find a pencil thin moustache and what it sounds like when doves cry.. i shall now pay homage...but maybe i'm just like my father....

FLIRTY FISH

Something’s Kind’a fishy
Something’s not quite right
I Smelt something ishy
You can bet your Bass I’m right

Beware of alluring lures
Rainbow Trout bright
So many enticing colors
Under cover hookers
That nibble but never bite

Instead of a Mermaid
You’re a sucker for the Crabs
And to your dismay
Your Lutefisk is full of Shad

For Satan is the Master
The best impersonator
Beware you become a keeper
For that Muskie baiter

“Life isn’t catch and release, Punk!”

Bosbok Strand

Winter months spent at the sea
Every day a treasure hunt
Catching prawns next to the lagoon
Picking up oysters fresh from the beach.
Periwinkels in the shallow pools
And of course mussels when the tide comes in.

Back to camp we head
Anticipating our epic feast.

A potato bass is sliced and cleaned and fried in a garlicky butter mix.
Grill some snoek over an open fire caramalised in the best home made apricot jam
Next we make a mussel pot with cheesy white sauce to add
Soon we fry the winkels, snails and other goodies with some white wine
The oysters we serve chilled, straight from the shell with a dash of lemon juice
All of this to be topped off with a fresh greek salad and traditional flatbread

These were our most treasured meals in our winters by the sea
These are the meals I'll never forget for as long as I live and breath

Buckets and Beaches

I'd often pick places to visit by their name
when you travel like I did you get creative
mandatory too was that I could go fishing
a favorite was Destin, on the gulf of Mexico
like destiny or destination without the ending

I'd always arrive with the windows and top down
smile growing wider as the ocean got nearer
ready to park the car and grab a cold beer
and a bucket of steamers with a seaside view

My son would usually nap and miss the drive
wake up hungry and ready for the drawn butter
and food we really had to work for, as he called it
we'd get a table outside and watch the waves and sky
he'd get a strawberry daquiri without the liquor
I'd get a pina colada with extra


I'd talk about my new tackle and what I aimed to catch
he'd talk of finding buried treasure
like sharks teeth or gold
we would laugh as the seagulls shouted overhead
watching the surfers and small boats stretch to the horizon
we'd joke about things like the music
how every place around there played The Beach Boys
and Jimmy Buffet like nothing else existed
except for Lynard Skynard, of course

then that tin bucket would arrive
packed with oysters, clams, crabs
scallops and corn on the cob
all you heard for a while was snap and crack
as we ate a meal that required a tool set

I'd get a Pabst Blue Ribbon and a Scotch
he'd get a brownie with hot fudge sauce
then we'd walk back out to the car like new people
fresh people

The sand dunes and perfect skies
palm trees and suntan lotion smells
still permeate my mind on command
but, the way the sunlight would hit my boy's eyes
make him squint as he looked up at me with a big smile
that's what I recall most
because it's why we were there

Thank you all for your submissions to date ... You've kicked this off well.  

For her, it was fried clams, breaded and crunchy
To go with the fries and tartar sauce, for all who got the munchies
My Nana ran The Restaurant and did it well
People of her age remember, the sense of home and the smell

It was called many things back then, even a beer joint and a dance hall
But it was the 60s, and it was where everyone met for fun and food, one and all
She dropped them into a big bucket of flour seasoned with salt and pepper, just so
And from what I remember, you could get baskets to go

Then, she dipped them in eggs and into fine bread crumbs which she would grind
Deep fried, of course, each morsel was turned until perfectly fried
The place was busy day and night, it was known for the fried clams that she handmade
For the lunch crowd, couples, and teens be-bopping; they sure made the grade

They were served in open cardboard boxes; wax paper laying up and over the sides
And the pile was heaping, hot, and golden, and as a little girl, those were what I first tried
But seafood was not my thing, just watching her do her magic was enough
And she had mouths to feed, droves of people drifting in just to try her stuff

When I was little, I’d spin on the stools at the bar
And the waitresses gave me chocolate milk, and winked at me from afar
As I waited for my Nana, after school, as her forehead sweat and she cooked
I must admit that after my first cheeseburger, I was hooked

But it was the fried claims that were her claim to fame
My uncle remembers them better than I, because he prepared them that way, the same
She would dump the ingredients into five gallon buckets for him
He worked beside her, when he wasn’t at school, always with a boyish grin

She knew a guy with a truck, that came daily from down on the coast
After digging them from the sand, packing them, as they sold the most
I can only imagine the work it took to shuck them, she had a big guy for a cook
He had no choice, she gave him orders; which he just took

Sometimes, I’d watch through the window outside, as I sat on the steps out back
Never did I let her leave my view, she was my Nana, and that was that
She took care of everyone, and loved her workers as her family; it was shown
Later in life, and, eventually, they came to love her, as their own

She gave parties on holidays, and shared in the fun as midnight would ring
On Saturday night’s, when the place was crowded, she didn’t miss a thing
But it was during the day that she was the most busiest as she made
Those fried claims that she served on the busiest of days

almond boil haiku

straight from hammond creek..
crawfish submerged.. almond boil..
ready for.. twist.. suck

poorman’s bite


frail skeletal sticks fallen down in clusters of defeated soldiers
they never looked like appeasing mouthful flesh filled bites
erected to slightly curved or in full bows
after their crowded catch, quickly done to deaths
a while though wriggling like visibly magnified rod viruses
salted excessive all over their see-through skinny surface
laid long to be  sun-dried  on shimmering seasands
to safe shrunken mummies, in dullness yet in pretty crispy changeover
fried shallow or deep,to be the fisherman’s crunchy bite
in turns, either in-between his many handful rice balls
or with a fine country-side millety porridge in whoosh-y swallows
or snacking along with his cheap shore fermented  
      drowsy mudpots of Sunda kanji*


these  Dry Anchovies Fry



*a type of fermented drink from rice porridge

Primogenito ... Uma ... 7th_son - thank you for entries ... Scrumptious one and all.

Sellicks Beach

I remember times back
when I was a little lad
holidays spent at the beach house

I would always get excited
when the sea air
would hit my nostrils

after unpacking
and settling in
it would be
off to the beach
check out the tide
jump in for a swim
maybe toss a line in


days spent with hand lines
rock hopping the reefs
with the odd jetty
thrown in for good measure
spearing swimmer crabs to pass time
waiting on those surf rods
to get a bite
fishing for sharks by moonlight

eventually
it would be back
to clean the catch
feasting on the bounties of the sea

These all made my heart hum with fond memories in one way or another ...

HarleyQuinn's piece stood out for it's simple but eloquent language and crisp delivery.  Overall the piece encompassed everything I was looking to see ... Catching the sea treasures ... cooking it with other homemade goodies ... a communal feast with family & friends ... 

I enjoyed uma's piece for this reason as well.  

mikimoondancer your work was right up there ... Your scribe took me to my favorite lobster box in New England ... I could taste that Pabst and Scotch 

Thank you ALL for writing for this ... Salud! 

thank you, lobo
this was fun!
congrats to harley and summultima
a lot of good reads in here

unique foodie comp, thankx many to u LSP!
congratz harleyquinn, mikimoon n all:)