Source: MODERN FARMER, 1/31/22


I grew up swimming in the muddy Rappahannock River in Virginia where the catfish are so plentiful, sometimes they’d bump right into me, scaring both of us. We could catch dinner in our backyard, which made a difference to us as low-income farmers. Even today, I can reel in a dozen blue catfish in less than an hour, more than enough to feed a family. Those golden fried fillets of white, flaky meat dipped in cornmeal and flour with a sprinkle of Old Bay, and the catfish chowder my mother makes from scratch, taste better than any fish I know. 

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