As a child, way back when, I would fish with my father and I’ve caught my share of rockfish (striped bass) – however hard that it is to believe. Rockfish was always a celebration in our house. My father was a true fisherman, he caught the fish, cleaned them and we all ate them. My mother would prepare them simply, butterflied, topped with thin shavings of carrots, onions, salt, white pepper and butter and baked sealed in an aluminum foil envelope. Wishing I still had the picture of my father holding a 25 pound rockfish he caught for it would be up here for all to see his joy and pride.
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