Anglers worldwide enjoy carp fishing, why not here?

Carp are found in virtually every state in America, and are heartily maligned in each one of them.

They have nicknames like "sewer bass" and "bugle mouths" — and others that can't be printed here. They aren't considered "food fish," but rather "trash fish" to be tossed on the bank to rot when caught.

That's interesting, really, because in other parts of the world carp are considered a fine "food fish." They are eaten virtually everywhere but here.

The Chinese raised and ate carp for more than 4,000 years, considering them a symbol of strength and courage. Carp have been savored in Europe for at least 2,000 years, including the Austrian princes of Schwarzenburg who maintained 20,000 acres of carp ponds.

It's not a native to North America but, when the first wave of immigrants came in the mid-1800s, they were shocked that no carp existed here. So, in short order, the species was brought here and joined other non-American creatures such as English sparrows and ringneck pheasants.

Carp were grown in ponds all across the country, eventually escaping into rivers and lakes from coast to coast.

But because carp are a strong and versatile fish, some were seen to grow and thrive in extremely polluted water. Thus they gained a reputation here as a fish not to be eaten. That fact would have made medieval monks laugh. They raised their "Friday fish" in ponds on every monastery, feeding them on bread and well-soaked grains.

In many Asian countries they were stocked in rice paddies producing a double crop instead of one.

Some Americans, more enlightened than others, convert it into gefeltafish for special occasions, or make carp into fish patties, soups and fish pies.

Have I ever eaten carp? Yes, I have and more than once. On several occasions I've kept a few one- to two-pounders, caught in clean water lakes, filleted them, and removed that mid-line "mud streak." Then I fried them just like perch and walleye.

They were fine, at least as good as white bass, white perch and channel cats, which have a much better reputation. However, carp should be prized for more than culinary qualities. They're great fighters, as the British know well. They are a wonderful kids' fish for just that reason, along with the fact that they're found almost anywhere.

One of my greatest memories as a youngster was fishing with my dad along the Big Scioto River using worms on the bottom. A 10-pound carp took hold and converted me into a wildly excited basketcase before I finally landed the fish.

I safely can say that pound-for-pound they'll outfight any largemouth bass in the country. The Brits consider them their top game fish, and many books and magazine articles have been written on how to catch a double-digit (10 pounds and larger) carp there.

But it's for their culinary qualities that the common carp has achieved real fame — again overseas. Around 1500, King Henry VIII offered a reward to people who brought "carpes to the king" when some escaped into waterways. Royalty in many countries wouldn't consider a feast without carp.

If you'd like to try some this spring, I found lots of recipes — among them one for smaller-sized carp of one to two pounds gutted, washed and scaled, stuffed with rosemary, thyme, and garlic, then basted with olive oil, lemon juice, salt and pepper. Roast for 20 minutes at 325 degrees and serve.

A panel of tasters who tried this one agreed it was quite meaty and similar to sea bass in texture.

A British recipe added small pieces of carp to liven up usually bland leek and potato soup. They can be grilled, too, after a brushing of olive oil, salt and pepper and a squeeze of lemon. I've personally smoked fillets of two- to four-pound carp and, although they were a bit greasy, they went very well with a favorite beverage and a good football game.

You can sneer at a hard fighting, tasty fish or you can go catch some this spring.

Keep a few small ones from clean water, enjoy the fight, then cook them as you wish. You might find that sewer bass deserve a better reputation than they currently have.

Dick Martin is a retired Shelby biology teacher and author who has written an outdoor column for more than 25 years. He can be reached at richmart@neo.rr.com.