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Outside Magazine December 2002
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Out There
Gettin' Jiggy (Cont.)

THE EVENING'S RUN of squid lasted until about midnight. It was one of those all-consuming, action-packed stretches of time when you can't even think about the things you're supposed to be doing with your life. The catch tapered off until you had to look around for a few minutes to see somebody pull one up. At about 1 a.m. the gang trickled away. If someone's bucket was low on squid, the folks with good catches poured in a few. And then everyone headed up the hill, back to the lights of the city.

Matt and I caught about ten pounds of squid that night, and it took days to cook them all up. You can eat everything on a squid but the beak, shell, and eyes. We cut the bodies into strips and covered them with pasta sauce. We stuffed them with cheese and mushrooms. We blanched, broiled, and boiled them. But my favorite recipe was the simplest: Squeeze the ink into a pan, add butter, then cook the squid for a minute or two. Squirt with lemon and eat. Then, before the pan cools, suck back the ink. Swish it until your teeth are coated good and black. Then smile at your friends—or, if you're alone, at the mirror. Big smile. You're an American squid jigger.
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