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Once every couple of weeks (probably around the end of the 1950s) my Mum would send me to the wet fish shop on Jamaica Road, between Sun Passage and Thurland Road. I would be required to select three live eels from those slithering in the galvanised tank. The fishmonger would then use a large cleaver to take off the head and the tail end of each eel and discard these bits in the waste bin. The rest of the eel was chopped into sections of about 1½ inches, wrapped in old copies of the Daily Mirror or The Herald so that I could carry my purchase home. Mum would stew the eels and make her own liquor for our dinner, served with mash, of course.
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