
I've said it before, but this time I mean it. I'm never buying catfish again. Ever. Not in a million, billion years. Store-bought catfish has to be the fishiest, funkiest, stinkiest fish on this planet - which should be a crime because I know catfish is perfectly capable of being sweet and tender. You see, my father-in-law, Rick, catches catfish from deep within the lakes of Oklahoma. Before the water has a chance to drip down the fish's fins, he fillets, salts, and bags them. … [Read more...]

























