TRAVERSE CITY -- The way Kevin Gagnon makes fish, it's hard to imagine why meatless Fridays during Lent are supposed to be a sacrifice.
A Traverse City resident since 1983, Gagnon grew up fishing the waters off Bay City and savoring the fish fries of that area's bars and restaurants. He loved the perch so much -- lightly breaded, immersed in oil only long enough to seal the breading and keep the flesh of the fish moist and tasty -- that he made it his business to find out how they prepared it.
"Every bar in Bay City has a perch fry and that's where I learned to cook it, from my bar buddies down there," he said.
And he's been making it ever since, treating friends to fish fries every month or so, until he runs out of frozen perch in the spring. Those lucky enough to make what he calls his "A-list" enjoy meals that include everything but the juke box: brown plastic paper-lined mesh basket, fries, cole slaw and Texas toast.
"I've been feeding the masses for a long time," said Gagnon, who sold his Mr. Messenger delivery service after running it for more than two decades. "And there are usually no leftovers."
Gagnon fishes the waters of Long Lake and Lake Leelanau -- "wherever they're biting" --- each fall and freezes pounds upon pounds of fresh yellow perch.
"Yellow perch are the best there is," he said.
Gagnon typically catches about 35 pounds in a day. Then it's an hour or two of cleaning, a labor of love that yields about 75 small filets.
"I use an electric filet knife," he said. "It cuts the time in half.
"I also take pride in that you'll never find a bone in my perch. I'm good -- very good."
Gagnon freezes the perch in water, then is particular about the process for preparation, serving and eating.
"They call me the perch Nazi," he said.
His recipe is simple. He starts with Golden Dipt fish breading mix, which he buys from Gordon's in a five-pound bag that goes a long way. He adds about one teaspoon each of lemon pepper and garlic powder, or to taste.
After dipping the thawed perch in water, he coats them in breading and puts them on a paper towel on a cookie sheet in the fridge for about an hour.
"This is the key -- the difference between good fish and pretty good fish," he said. "After you bread them, you have to let them sit, to let them absorb the breading."
The other thing you want? Hot canola oil, at least around 410 degrees. For that he uses a propane-fired outdoor fryer, which has the side benefit of keeping greasy cooking smoke out of the house while allowing him to cook a whole lot of fish at once.
In fact, Gagnon takes the fryer along when he spends a few months each winter in Florida, where he branches out to yellow-tail snapper, grouper and shrimp. He said you just can't get the same results in a pan on a stove.
The fish are only in the oil a few minutes -- just long enough to seal and brown to a light crispy texture. He tends each batch carefully, removing them to drain after they float to the top.
Then it's into the basket with the side dishes. It means perch heaven for his appreciative guests. They are only too happy to adhere to his one rule: no tartar sauce. Don't even ask, though some have brought it as a joke. But that might be risky, since it can be a good way to get demoted to the B-list.
And you don't want that to happen. The fish is just too good.
"I enjoy people enjoying their food," he said. "It's all part of making a meal an event -- sitting down with good friends and good food and everybody's smiling."






