Patrick Durkin: Smallies get more doubt than love on anglers’ menus

During summer fishing trips to Canada in the 1990s, my wife never assumed we would catch enough fish before noon to feed our three daughters shore-lunch on the nearest island. So, we never left the cabin without hotdogs in the cooler.
“Just in case,” Penny said.
Realize, too, that we aren’t snobby about which fish we eat. Although our girls fought over walleye cheeks, we never held out for “walters.” For shore lunch, we regularly pan-fried northern pike and smallmouth bass on the old two-burner Coleman stove.

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