In Sweden the fish are grilled, smoked, fried, roasted, or dropped into soup for the autumn eel party, a centuries-old tradition on the Skåne coast in the south.
People were capturing the crabs and selling them as bait for the more profitable eel and whelk fisheries.
Those European and North American young then return to their respective coasts to begin the unusual life cycle of the eel anew.
The last fish turns out to be no cod or haddock but something eel-like, scary and toothy.
The omega-3 fatty acids found in fish (and nuts) are great for the brain. Sea swimmers like mackerel, herring, eel and tuna are also chock full of phosphatidylserine.
Two kinds of sauces are usually available: one is soy sauce, which is poured on most kinds of sushi; the other is a thick sweet sauce used on eel.
A weeks-old eel larva in a petri dish glows under blue light.
A fisherman pulled this eel, likely a female, from the St. Lawrence River as she slipped downstream toward the Atlantic Ocean.
The poems snatch precious remembered moments. They linger over the sweetness of particulars—vetch, the feel of an eel on a line.
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