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The other day a friend sent me one of those silly Facebook posts asking me to name a food that I could eat daily without tiring of it.  Though I suspect I would eventually get tired of anything, I replied with, “catfish.”  I don’t know about y’all, but I have yet to find a way to prepare catfish that I do not enjoy.  Fried, broiled, baked, and blackened are but a few ways I like it.  Just throw a couple of hushpuppies on the plate with the fish, and I have a complete meal. 

Speaking of hushpuppies, I am reminded of the ones Mother used to make.  She did not use a great deal of shortening in her iron skillet, so her mixture did not form balls when she dropped it into the skillet.  Instead, it formed more of a flattened shape sort of like fry bread but fatter. 

Daddy said that they were grown up puppies and called them, “hush dogs.”  We didn’t care what he called them.  They were delicious!  Mother could fry some of the best fish to go with them.  That was often a Friday or Saturday night feast at our house.  Many times, we would be joined by Willie Dee Brown’s family. 

They loved Mother’s fish fries as much as we did.  Willie Dee and Peggie had been best friends of Mother and Daddy for years.  Daddy had really missed his buddy when the family lived in Memphis and was thrilled when they returned home.  Though we are not related, I have always thought of them as kinfolk. 

Daddy loved to fish and spent much of his free time doing just that.  He tried all sorts of things for bait.  He kept a big worm bed, but I guess he liked to give the fish a variety of offerings.  I have no clue how he ever came to try it, but he found out that Grandma’s homemade lye soap was eagerly accepted by the catfish.  I don’t know if any of the other kinds of fish liked it or not, but that didn’t matter.   Catfish were what we preferred. 

So, Grandma’s lye soap began to disappear from its place in the window on the screened-in back porch next to her wringer washing machine.  Daddy confessed that he was using it for fishing and asked if she could make extra.  Since Grandma loved fried catfish as much as any of us, she was happy to oblige. 

We ate many fish who had succumbed to the temptation of lye soap before the remainder of their population began to lose interest in the bait.  That is when Daddy started catching them with hot dog pieces.  Later he advanced to chicken livers.  Finally, he went back to the traditional worm bed. 

   I loved to go fishing.  Mr. Grover Hodges said that I had the patience of Job, but I just enjoyed sitting under a tree and watching the water.  It was so relaxing.  When Dale and I began courting, I tried to interest him in fishing.  He didn’t seem to care for it, and after we moved to Alabama, I seldom had the chance to go. 

We would always be too busy when we made a quick trip to Toccopola, and after Daddy’s death I seemed to give up on the sport.  Now that we are back in Pontotoc, I often wish for the opportunity to cast my line and relax under a tree.  It is great to think about, but I know it is not going to happen.  I guess the best I can do is to let Dale take me out to eat at the fish house every so often. 

I never buy and cook catfish at home since Dale doesn’t like to eat them, but I do make hushpuppies.  You don’t have to pair them with fish to enjoy them, and Dale will eat the hushpuppies.  I have even found them to be my preference over cornbread with boiled cabbage.  I discovered this many years ago, shared it with Mother, and she agreed with me. 

I generally think of Mother and Daddy and all the good suppers we had with the Brown family whenever I am enjoying a plate of catfish.  I laugh about Mother’s hush dogs when I fry hushpuppies, and dream about going fishing when we take a trip to the lake.  Indeed, I think I might be able to enjoy eating catfish every day.  It would be like watching reruns of old tv shows and remembering how much I enjoyed them.  I am glad my friend sent that silly Facebook post my way.  She has no idea how much pleasure it has given me to reply with that simple word, “catfish.”

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