• Minnowed martini



  • three ounces of gin or vodka

  • one martini glass

  • one rubber minnow- plastic/rubber (kitchen washed) bait

  • highball or cocktail glass

How to make it

  • in your cocktail glass pour three ounces of gin or vodka

  • add the rubber minnow

  • if after several martinis the minnow is gone you gulped...add new minnow and slow down

  • if after several minnowed martinis your minnow starts to swim in the glass...its time for you to stop the cocktail hour and let the minnow rest


Fish: it’s what’s fer dinner!


Pesco-vegetarianism means you eat veggies and fish, and I do that as often as possible so I’m considered one of these at times.  Carnivore, if I machinate the definition just abit means I’m an animal that eats other animals (not to be confused with a cannibal), so once again I feel included here. Finally if all I hungered for was a salad we have the plant eaters. Yeah I love my whole grain goodness so I think I have most if not all the food groups covered and I can comfortably eat with just about anybody who doesn’t dine exclusively on tofu.


If I just said I’m a full blown omnivore that would have covered everything but that’s like eating dinner without a salt shaker,  A shore lunch without the lake shore. Ice cream without chocolate sauce and that’s makes no sense so I go heavy on both from the sweetened dairy section.  


When things get a bit over cooked and perhaps under done, is where some folks won’t eat, can’t eat, or choose not to eat peanuts, meat, eggs, dairy and so on. The reasons can be medical, to I just hate spinach, but unlike a guy I fished with last Saturday I’m not upset with any of the other select refined palette food groups, actually I appreciate them.


We roasted tators lightly seasoned and then just before they were done we laced the skillet with sweet summer onions and the screen porch became an ambient aroma the likes of which Neptune may rethink his immortal state for one more bite. One heavy cast iron cooker half full of oil was spitting like a hissing bobcat when we added freshly breaded filets from blue gills and walleyes taking there final swim. All was right in the world or so I thought, until it got better.


Rod doesn’t eat fish. Rod didn’t eat one piece of fish. Rod is a non fish consumer. Rod was adamant about not eating one piece of fish flesh. I felt bad for Rod, so we ate tenderly around the issue and my picnic table. After Rod left my home two of my buddies behind his back started to tell me what a meal he was missing and how could he be so ridiculous.


They were starting to harp pretty hard on not even trying one bite of a sumptuous feast so I said boys you shouldn’t be so hard on him. If it wasn’t for his generosity you would have eaten less. See boy’s, I’m an all inclusive food processor. The trout whisperer


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A dusty trail