The catch of the day and the one that got away | Borrevannet, Norway

These days we are very thankful to have some semblance of normality here in Norway. Regulations are beginning to loosen, people are being allowed to move about more and more, and I even heard today that movie theaters will soon be opening up again.

Gatherings are still limited to 5 people, but traveling within the borders for non-work related things is now allowed. This allowed the opportunity for me and two of my best cabin-going friends Ryan and Siril to take a short trip to a cabin that we rented for the weekend on Borrevannet near Horten, Norway.

One of the exciting parts of spending time at such places is the prospect of being able to catch your own food out of the lake. I'm not really a fisherman at all, I have no gear and only a mild interest, but my buddy Ryan is pretty keen on it. When we go out on these types of excursions, I enjoy tagging along on the fishing expedition and hanging out in case something exciting happens, even if I don't much cast the rod myself.

Borrevannet is known to have a large population of *gjedde*, or pike in English, a predatory fish that can become quite large up to 18kg. They have a wicked set of sharp little teeth that can easily cut through fishing line when hooked. For this reason, it is common to use a short length of metal line to mount the lure at the end of the line.

One funny thing about gjedde is that they are apparently reasonably well-liked as an eating fish in Sweden and Finland. However, Norwegians are not fond of it. At all. At least according to Ryan, who attributes it to a sort of pretentiousness that could be related to Norway being an oil-rich nation. Too good to eat such lowly fish.

Well I thought that seemed fairly negative, and I like to give people the benefit of the doubt, so I figured I'd wait and see.

We all wanted to give the fish the benefit of the doubt and form our own opinion about it, so we were hoping Ryan would be able to snag one. The weather had been calling for rain, but already Friday evening the sun had appeared, so there was no time to waste. Ryan rigged his rod, and I settled in doing my part:

I generally have low expectations on fishing excursions, so I was content to chill with my skjærgårdspils and observe the local wildlife. This area is known for being a bird reservation with many different species including a population of elegant swans:

The swans stick their long necks straight out when they fly, making them look like giant white darts. Landing on the water almost sounds like small firecrackers going off as their wingtips slap the surface of the water powerfully.

Suddenly, my attention shifted from the swan to the fishing rod, which was curved downward. "We got a bite", Ryan nonchalantly stated. Sure enough, just 10 minutes in, we had ourselves a juvenile pike coming in at around 2-3kg:

Dinner plans were starting to take shape, but not quite yet. Nothing else came in on Friday evening, so we'd hang onto this until the next day and see if we could add something more.

We also needed some time to ponder how to best prepare this supposedly wretched fish. Fish cakes seemed like an obvious choice, as that would at least disguise the fishy flavor. But the point was that we were supposed to experience the flavor of the fish and judge for ourselves, so this would simply not do. No, we would have fish filets instead.

Saturday came, and it was time for a different kind of excursion for me. One of the canoeing variety. The weather was playing nice again, so it was basically inexcusable not to get out on the water. Plus, canoes always make great photo ops:

While we were fishing the day before, we noticed a strange dome and obelisk across the water and further down the lake. This would have to be investigated, naturally.

Seemed like a canoe rental place, but the mystery of the dome remains. In any event, it was a battle against the wind getting here, so it was time to take a break and take in the sensations of being out on the open water: the wind whipping up small waves, just large enough for some to turn over into some miniature white caps, the persistent chatter of the various birds up in the trees along the lake, overmatched by the occasional squawk of a swan.

I floated about for some time and paddled around leisurely for some time. Found this pair of swans who, based on observed behavior, I can say may be expecting an addition to their family sometime soon, if you know what I mean.

Eventually I caught up with Ryan, and we canoed together across the lake to the side with the more favorable wind conditions for casting the rod.

This spot produced some more excitement within a matter of minutes. Another big bite, this one significantly bigger than the previous day, at least based on the bend of the rod. Remember how I mentioned gjedde can reach 18kg? Well, larger gjedde of course have larger teeth, and you may recall I also mentioned they are know to bite right through the line...

Suddenly, the line went completely limp. It had happened. Ryan forgot to attached the metal wire segment at the end, and big Uncle gjedde ripped 'er right off. A definite bummer, considering we didn't get any more bites until we eventually lost a lure, marking the end of the fishing day. We would just have to make the most of the one that we had waiting in the fridge back home.

We returned home, and Ryan got to work filleting the fish.

It was a first attempt at filleting this type of fish, so it proved somehwat challenging, but eventually Ryan got a few nice cuts out of it. In the end, it was decided that some light breading would be appropriate for preparation, without overly adulterating the natural flavor of the fish.

So how was it?

To be quite honest, it wasn't a bad fish at all, and I say that being not exactly a big fish person. The white meat did not have an overpowering fishy taste at all, and it was rather enjoyable. It paired quite nicely with my beer selection of Nøgne Ø Porter:

It's definitely a fish that I would again, perhaps even seek out, as it was quite fun trying to catch. Not at all deserving of the stigma it apparently has amongst the locals, we all agreed.

But does it really have such a stigma? Was Ryan right about that?? I was still skeptical.

Things came full circle this morning. I had been looking to do a quick hike up to the cliff that we could see from out our kitchen window, the one that is visible in this photo:

Ryan headed out for a last minute fishing trip whilst I ventured over. I made an unexpected friend on the way there:

There are only three types of snakes in Norway, and one of them, *hoggorm*, a type of viper, is poisonous. This, however, I believe to be the non-venomous *buorm*, though I'm not entirely sure.

I continued on, investigated a cave we had noticed from across the lake, and eventually made it up to the cliffside.

Lovely view, and on the way down, I came upon my favorite type of forest setting, a mature evergreen area with no vegatation on the forest floor, just a carpet of pine needles:

I circled around to meet up with Ryan at the fishing spot. No luck today, and our time had run out. On the way back to the cabin, we came across an older Norwegian couple.

"Anything biting today?", the man asked.

Nothing today, but we caught a small gjedde on Friday, we explained. The expression on the woman's face visibly soured.

"Et grumsomt stygt dyr!" she exlaimed in disgust - "a horribly ugly creature".

Did we make fish cakes with it, they wondered. Nope, we filleted it, and we rather enjoyed it, thank you very much.

Gosh darn it, Ryan was right!

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