Poor Kate. She's had a rough day - having been viciously attacked by one of our streams as we walked to the waterfalls on Strzeleki. It jumped up and attacked and bruised her buttocks and wet her shoes, jeans, jacket, blouse and somehow missed her hat and camera. And then we tortured her with the smell of fresh Anzac biscuits (cookies, American friends) and prevented her from devouring the double batch. Then we left her fingers raw with digging for pipis (aka clams) in icy water. And then to add brutality to assualt, torture, and freezing, I threatened her with snot. Well, raw oyster. I am one of those cooks that believes that you have to taste (unless toxic raw) all the ingredients raw, so you can learn how cooking alters them, and therefore what cooking methods work for different tastes. Raw seaweed yesterday, raw oyster today. I was under the mistaken impression I was being nice. Oh well. It appeals to a cook. And I did cook her very own squid for her, which she liked much more than the snot.
Thrownetting today produced a large number of small mullet, one small Australian salmon, and no less than 4 flounder - all close-ish to legal size, but I put them back as I didn't have a measure with me. Oh and five palm-size crabs, which I kept for Tal Grottli (uses whole little crabs to flavour stock). I really need a proper crab-hunting expedition soon - there must be millions about, judging by the holes. The problem with crabs is of course inverse-square law as far as getting meat out is concerned.
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