I have to confess to finding this a bit of hard work this time. There was a large tray on display of what I can only guess was fish tripe. The place didn't smell bad at all, but my asthma was playing up and somehow with all the water on the floor and that tray of offal I was thinking longingly of nice neat frozen fillets or tidy little tins. However, being a stalwart tightwad, I joined the queue and even instructed Bill to snatch up his chosen box before someone else grabbed it. The woman behind the counter identified cod, haddock and the little red gurnard.
I was thinking this was un-processed fish, like the sign said. As we walked home along the prom there were swarms of birds: seagulls, herring gulls and rooks. I wondered if they would swoop down on the bag Bill was carrying but apparently they had easier sources from the cars full of folks eating fish and chips. When we got home I put on my rubber gloves and took up a knife, mentally girding myself to gut each of the fish. It's been years since I did this, but it must be rather like riding a bicycle. As it turned out all but the small gurnard were already gutted, so I just did that one which was easy enough once started. I'd never seen one of these before. It reminded me of a small dragon with all the red spiny bits; his mouth was nearly like a bird's bill, a funny creature it was.
I weighed up the fish and it came to 4.8 kg or 10.6 pounds; less than 50p per pound. Sure, some of that is in the heads and bones and I'm afraid I'm going to waste the opportunity to make fish stock as it's completely out of my comfort zone to even consider what I might use it for. I'm from Oklahoma, remember, I didn't grow up with a fishstock heritage. I bagged three of the fish large separately, and put the smallest cod/haddock in with the gurnard. That's four fish meals for future.
We'll both have a fine meal off that single large fish and for about the same price as a tin of tuna. You can't say fairer than that.