Country Eel Stew. You Know What it Tastes Like.

I love the earthy practicality of Common Sense in the Home. Here's another fine example:

Let's be honest: who hasn't been duped by one of those city slicker eel merchants? And who really has time to consider the diets of urban eels compared to those of more pastoral climes?

It's not just us. Even Freud had eel issues.

"Since eels do not keep diaries," the investigator, 19-year-old Sigmund Freud, wrote to a friend in the spring of 1876, the only way to determine gender was to cut and slice, "but in vain, all the eels which I cut open are of the fairer sex."

Poor Sigmund appears to be the victim of his own envy.

But I digress.

The advice is just so darned useful. For example, the suggestion about avoiding a three pound eel, despite the obvious draw.

(Three pounds is a big fella by anyone's reckoning.)

But I digress again.

So you start with a one pound country eel and THEN you add butter.

This affirms one of my culinary beliefs: add butter and anything tastes like chicken.

Stew that is.