Outdoor Men Can Cook

The scene was grim: cold, starving men, eight hours travel from the nearest dirt road, watching their cook make a shambles of the first good batch of fish in days.

An hour later, dinner was served. I sat on a log to confront the half-cooked lump of gray flesh sitting forlornly in my bowl, spiced as it was with ashes, forest duff, mosquitoes and half-raw breading. At this point, I reached an important mental crossroads.

Using a calm, rational voice, I said very matter-of-factly — “Jim, if there are bones in this fish, I will be forced to kill you; right here, right now.”

The whole camp watched in foreboding as I lifted the first bite of walleye into my mouth.

It wasn’t bad, especially if you enjoy chomping a paste-covered pin cushion seasoned with dirt.

Fortunately, my threat was only a bluff. Instead of a canoe paddle, I merely grabbed a large flaming stick from the fire and chased Jim for a few miles into a leech-infested swamp until darkness fell. He escaped, not because he was faster but because I was compelled to stop twice and pick bone shards out of the roof of my mouth.

This incident, now being told in public for the first time, thus provides a perfect cautionary tale of why men should learn to be good cooks, especially if they’re outdoors enthusiasts.

After all, you can’t always count on having a swamp handy.

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