TROUT & SALMON

The voice of game-fishing since 1955

FISHING LUNCHES COME IN MANY GUISES, and the older I get, the more I enjoy them. There just isn’t time for lunch when you are younger. A garage pasty, crisps, a can of beer and a late-afternoon hit of chocolate were sufficient — all just fuel.

Now, my energy levels need replenishing with enjoyment, and I’m less inclined to thrash the water to a foam. When I returned to fishing after lockdown, I learned about the importance of resting water — it was like fishing for virgin fish.

Today, many salmon beats and estates make more of the lunch “experience” to offset the lack of fish. Barbecued venison burgers and estate-made pickle from a walled garden can sweeten a blank morning. What could be better than the whiff of BBQ as you return to the hut?

Then there’s the classic Irish lough lunch on an island, boats pulled on to the shore, the crackling Kelly Kettle and dancing mayfly; infectious anticipation amid the craic. Try it at home (if allowed) and it just isn’t the same.

Occasionally, I give a fishing lot to a charity auction, and the lunch I provide on the boat is my get-out clause should the day prove tough. A local pork pie, Black Bomber, served with Tufton Arms pickle, followed by a raspberry and coconut tart from the bakers, washed down with plonk, usually proves a hit. Time without a rod in hand encourages chat and rekindles enthusiasm.

I challenge you to name a better fishing food than the pork pie. They are heavy enough not to be blown out of a boat and stay in one piece in a pocket — I’ve hooked many fish while biting through the hot-water crust yet spilt few crumbs. They are — if made properly (in