The Eel Story

Those who know me have already heard this story but I keep getting encouraged to post it again so here it is.

It’s a true story and still gives me the willies just thinking about it. It involves me a recipe for pie and an eel.

You can download the whole seven pages of woe here as a PDF but here’s a brief snip from the tale:

Something to remember when slaughtering eels is to never panic and begin slashing at your own hands with a sharp knife. Not a good thing to do.

The knife blade dug into my left hand just at the first knuckle, leaving a neat V-shaped cut that flapped open and bled freely. An eighth of an inch to the right and it would have severed the tendon to my index finger.

I shook off the offending serpent and retreated to the kitchen sink. As I washed my hand, peeling eel grease out of the wound, and bandaged myself, my anger boiled up inside of me. How dare such a simple creature attack me? After all, I am a superior being. I reside relatively high on the food chain. I am a human being, dammit! That thing’s not going to get the best of ME!

Oh yes - I still bear the marks.

My friend Ben has suggested I re-stage the event for video but I am not so inclined. I am not now afraid of eels nor am I reluctant to reprise the pie recipe – it was, after all, quite delicious – I just think it would end being like Woody Allen and the lobsters in Annie Hall, so that won’t be happening.

But the words live on.

Enjoy.

Cheers.

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One Response to “The Eel Story”

  1. [...] week I posted my old remembrance of the grisly and botched slaughtering of an eel in my kitchen to make a pie. The recipe was named [...]