The flesh of the sharp-nosed sturgeon of North America (Acipenser oxyrinchus) is like coarse beef, quite firm and compact, but very rank and unsavoury. The Indians of New Brunswick cut it up in large pieces and salt it for winter use. It is only eaten by those who can obtain no better fare. The flesh of a young fish is much more delicate than that of an old one; when stewed with rich gravy, its flavour is not unlike that of veal.
Mr. Wingrove Cooke, in his account of a select Chinese dinner, says:—‘The next dish was sturgeon skull-cap—rare and gelatinous, but I think not so peculiar in its flavour as to excuse the death of several royal fish. This fish, being taken from its brazen, lamp-heated stand, was succeeded by a stew of shark fins and pork. The shark fins were boiled to so soft a consistency that they might have been turbot fins. The Chinaman must have smiled at the unreasonable prejudices of the occidentals when he saw some of us tasting the pork but fighting shy of the shark. He probably, however, did not know that the same occidentals would eat with relish of a fish which they themselves enticed to their angle by a worm or a maggot. Next in order came a soup composed of balls of crab. I have tasted this better prepared at Macao. It assumes there the form of a very capital salad, made of crab and cooked vegetables.’
The fondness of the Chinese for all gelatinous substances is well known, and has been described by all those who have visited that country and partaken of their banquets. In addition to employing animals and parts of animals which are rejected in other countries, as articles of diet, they import various substances which can be valuable only as yielding gelatine of different degrees of purity; of these we have examples in tripang, birdsnests, sharks’ fins, fish maws, and agar-agar, a fucus.
The fresh water lamprey (Petromyzon fluviatilis) was formerly of great importance as a delicacy, and also largely used as bait by fishermen. In Germany another species (P. Planeri) are taken in large quantities, fried, packed in barrels by layers, with bay leaves and spices, sprinkled with vinegar, and thus exported to other countries.
The sea lamprey (P. marinus) is held in high estimation by epicures in the United States and elsewhere, but is not eaten in the British American Provinces. It is a formidable enemy to the royal sturgeon, fastening upon its belly and eating into the flesh; and not unfrequently a sturgeon has leaped into a canoe, in its efforts to disengage itself from several of these troublesome parasites.
Lampreys, well known to have given a fatal surfeit to Henry I., when made into pies, were anciently esteemed a ‘pretty present.’
Eels appear to have been early favourites, particularly in the monasteries. The cellaress of Barking Abbey, Essex, in the ancient times of that foundation, was amongst other eatables ‘to provide russ aulx in Lenton, and to bake with elys on Shere Tuesday:’ and at Shrovetide she was to have ready ‘twelve stubbe eles and nine schaft eles.’ The regulation and management for the sale of eels seems to have formed a prominent feature in the old ordinances of the Fishmongers’ Company. There were artificial receptacles made for eels in our rivers, called Anguilonea, constructed with rows of poles that they might be more easily taken. The cruel custom of salting eels alive is mentioned by some old writers.
The flesh of the eel (Anguilla vulgaris), being highly nutritious, is excellent as food, but is sometimes found too oily for weak stomachs.
Eel pies and stewed eels cause a large demand in this metropolis, and some 70 or 80 cargoes, or about 700 tons a year, are brought over from Holland. The total consumption of this fish in England is estimated at 4,300 tons per annum. Eels are very prolific. They are found in almost all parts of the world.
An abundance of large eels of fine quality are caught in the rivers and harbours of New Brunswick.