Iannuccilli: Eels Are Not My Favorite

Dr. Ed Iannuccilli, Columnist

Iannuccilli: Eels Are Not My Favorite

Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
I never think of eels except at Christmas; I guess because they were served as part of La Vigilia, our traditional Christmas Eve dinner. My family loved them, some considering the dish a delicacy.

My lack of enthusiasm probably started when I was a kid at our summer rental on the Narragansett, RI shore. My uncle took me to the dock to see the fisherman catching eels one night. At eight years old, I was afraid of the dark, so perhaps the stage was set.

As they pulled the serpentine eels out of the water, I watched the slimy snakes squirm, ominously opening and closing their mouths. They were fish but had imperceptible gills, no scales, and, in the dark, no noticeable fins except for a ribbon thing along their backs.

GET THE LATEST BREAKING NEWS HERE -- SIGN UP FOR GOLOCAL FREE DAILY EBLAST

The next time I saw them was when that same uncle’s mother was making a fish sauce. Perking on her stove was a red gravy and sticking out were the antennas of squid flailing amid hunks of dark mounds. “I’m cooking squid and the darker things are anguilla, eels.” Even in the gravy, they looked mysterious.

And then, somewhere along my educational way, I was told of the uncorroborated theory of spontaneous generation; the eel being its example. Aristotle believed that they were sexless and considered them natural originators. Our professor told us that the eels Aristotle caught were just sexually immature.

So, for this article, I did a little homework.  Eels evolved fifty million years ago. To my knowledge, no one has ever seen eels spawning, so it is difficult to understand how they reproduce.

Every American and European eel is born in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, the Sargasso Sea south of Bermuda. The warm, salty, calmer conditions in the Sargasso make it ideally suited for spawning. Every year, after hatching, the tiny eels swim off toward land and up the coast to the rivers, spending their juvenile and adult lives in freshwater. At the end of their lives, they return to the sea to reproduce and die.

When they return to the Sargasso, they carry only enough fat and protein for a one-way trip. The trip is not easy thanks to thousands of dams along the eastern seaboard.  Juveniles make it upstream with the aid of fish ladders but face the danger of being chewed up by the turbines in hydropower dams on their way back down as adults.

The population is dwindling due to coastal development, overfishing, dams, disease, predation, and consumption. Thousands of tons of eel are consumed annually.

It would be nice if eels could be raised in substantial numbers, but to date, this has not happened.  If the American eel population gets down to a million, it will be in grave danger.

I started by writing that I did not like to eat eels. I do appreciate, however, there are others who do. And it does not mean I do not like them as a species. I want them to last another fifty million years.

So, enjoy your eels this Christmas, but please, in moderation.

Ed Iannuccilli is the author of "Growing up Italian" and "What Ever Happened to Sunday Dinner?" and both books can be found here.


50 Ways to Give in RI This Holiday Season - 2022

Enjoy this post? Share it with others.