A Slither Of Hope
The Age
Tuesday January 14, 2003
To most, it's an ugly monster, but don't judge an eel by its appearance, says David Sutherland.
It's been a quiet afternoon lying on the bank of the Yarra and you're starting to nod off in the sun. Suddenly, your rod tip quivers. You straighten into a sitting position. Another quiver, then a jerk and you leap to your feet and grab the rod. Bang! Something weighty is on the other end and the rod bends into the shape of a crescent moon as you reel in the line. Is it a bream? A lovely trout, maybe? The water swirls but instead of silver flashing in the sun as you lift, you see a grey-black, snake-like thing wriggling on the end of your line. An eel. Oh no, you think, not again.
You grab the creature's neck in an attempt to unhook and throw it back, and it curls around your wrist like a greasy python. You can't get a proper hold and slime coats your palm as the eel slithers out of your grip. It ends up on the ground, covered in grass and dirt and in frustration you cut the line and leave it there. You tie on another hook, bait up again and throw the line back into the water. Maybe next time it'll be a bream.
This is a scene regularly played out on the banks of Melbourne's rivers and creeks. Only a small percentage of people deliberately fish for eels and know what to do with them once caught. To most, the eel is an ugly monster - primeval and fearsome - to be thrown back, if not killed and just left behind. Even the thought of preparing and eating an eel is enough to give the most seasoned Aussie fish lover the shudders.
But in many cultures, the eel is a delicacy. In Asia and many parts of Europe, the rich, sweet, firm flesh is an important part of the diet and is eaten with gusto.
Indigenous Australians relied on the high-protein, vitamin-rich meat of eel for ages before the Europeans came. The Wurrundjeri people of pre-colonial Victoria would time their corroborees to coincide with the seasons when eels travelled downstream in abundance. Large groups used to meet on the banks next to what we now know as Dight's Falls to feast on eel flesh.
The eel has played such an important role in the diet and culture of many countries that legends and myths have grown around it. In the Philippines, some believe that eels are the souls of the dead. In some European cultures, it is said that a person will be able to see fairies if they rub their skin with eel oil.
The very nature and life cycle of an eel is so unusual, so inherently weird, that it's no surprise some cultures attribute to it other-worldly characteristics. They look like snakes, for a start. And, let's face it, by any normal human standards, they are horrendously ugly (think of those beady alien eyes peering at you from beneath the surface as you feed the ducks at the Botanic Gardens). Eels live in dirty water and forage in the mud and detritus for food. And they're slimier than Jerry Springer.
No wonder they get a bad rap.
But the weirdness of eels is a source of fascination for others. Me, for instance. What other fish can travel across fields and paddocks and bushland? And what other creature is so hardy, so immune to temperature changes, so adaptable to circumstance? Stories abound of eels being taken out of the freezer, left on a bench under lights for a while and then twitching and wriggling off the bench and on to the floor.
My fascination with eels began when I was 10. We used to go fishing in the Yarra near Scotch College and catch eels, as well as yellowfin, bream and the odd trout. One day, we caught a couple and I'd heard somewhere that eel tasted OK, so I threw them (alive - yes, we were stupid kids) into a plastic supermarket bag. The bag was left sitting in the hot summer sun for a couple of hours and when it was time to go, I carried the bag of eels home on my bike, hanging from the handle bars, bumping against the spokes of my front wheel. When I got home, Mum said, "Yuck! I'm not cooking those", and I was about to throw them in the bin when I noticed the bag twitch. I half-filled my Granny's bath with water, dropped the eels in and within minutes they were swimming around quite happily. The next morning, I put them back into a plastic bag, rode down to the nearest stormwater drain (which ran into the Yarra) and released them.
Thinking about it now, 20 years later, I hope those two eels made it back to the river safely. I hope they led a full life eating worms and grubs and grime until they felt that strange distant call, and swam downstream to the bay, where they would have jettisoned their digestive systems to begin their trek north to the Coral Sea to mate and die.
Then their offspring (resembling tiny curled-up leaves and called leptocephalii) would have drifted back south with the currents, until they sensed fresh water nearby, swam to the river mouth, underwent another transformation to become glass eels or elvers, and then moved upstream to turn into the brown, slimy, slithery things we know as eels.
I reckon I might just grab my dusty fishing rod and try to catch myself some of their offspring. Catch them, then prepare them. Grill, steam, then grill them again. Maybe coat them in a sweet soy glaze with mirin and sake and sugar, like the Japanese do. Sweet, juicy, eel - mmmm!
Save the parents, eat the kids. Now, who said eels were monsters and humans weren't?
Eel is available from Claringbolds, Prahran Market, and stall 35 at the Queen Victoria Market.
Grilled eel (Unagi kaba-yaki)
Serves 4
Ingredients
1 eel, filleted
Sauce
200ml mirin
60ml sake
200ml soy sauce
40g sugar
eel bones and head
Method
• To make the sauce: Combine sake, mirin and soy in a saucepan with the sugar, eel bones and head. Simmer for about 20 minutes or until the mixture has a sticky consistency. Discard bones and head.
• Thread a long metal skewer through the centre of the eel fillets. Grill or barbecue eel for 2-3 minutes on each side, then transfer to a steamer basket set over simmering water. Steam for 5 minutes, then return eel to grill, brushing frequently with sauce, for another 2-3 minutes on each side.
• Serve with rice.
Grilled eel lasagne
Serves 4
Ingredients
1 whole grilled eel
6 sheets wonton pastry
45g mixed lettuce (mesclun)
4 shiitake mushrooms
20ml soy sauce
20ml balsamic vinegar
40ml extra virgin olive oil
about 1 tsp Japanese mountain pepper (sansho)
Method
• Slice eel lengthwise through centre into two thin fillets, then cut each piece in half. Sprinkle with sansho.
• Add wonton pastry sheets, one at a time, to a saucepan of boiling water and cook for 2-3 mins until tender. Drain.
• Arrange 2 pastry sheets over the base of a 10cm x 20cm rectangular baking dish.
• Arrange half the mixed salad on top of the pastry. Place half the eel over the salad. Top with another layer of pastry. Cover with remaining eel, salad, and pastry, gently pressing down on the layers.
• Finely chop the shiitake mushrooms and combine with the soy, balsamic and olive oil. Slice lasagne into 4 and serve at room temperature with the shiitake vinaigrette.
© 2003 The Age