A few years ago I saw a bumper sticker on the rear end of a truck, belonging I suppose to a fisherman, that read: “If it smells like fish, eat it.” Fish is a stumper for some folks. A fishmonger friend of mine told me a long time ago that customers “want you to do everything to a fish for them, except eat it.” Generally speaking, more people eat seafood in restaurants than they do at home. Maybe it is the smell; more likely it is a matter of running a deficit in the how-to-cook-it department. For sure, the seafood counters in the big stores show various preparations that look ready to put in the oven, with the seasoning choices made for us already, and the work of stuffing or crusting or rolling already done and no question left about what to do.

I didn’t grow up eating fish. My dad had a bad experience with a fish in his youth, a bone in his throat. Thereafter, the very smell of fish reminded him unpleasantly of that event. My mom made tuna sandwiches for us kids at lunch, or fried up fish sticks so that the smell would dissipate before dad came home from work. I grew up mighty dubious about fish. So when I went to live with a young family to help out with babysitting and light housework, and the mom made a suggestion that I get some flounder fillets for dinner one night, I was worried about what I was going to eat. She told me to put dots of butter on the fillets and sprinkle on salt and pepper, then run the pan under the broiler briefly. Having been raised to try at least a bite, I took a fillet to try and had a life-changing moment. I never had fresh fish growing up and I found the flavor was such a revelation! So simply prepared, too.

Today there is no fish I can think of that I don’t like. Well, I don’t like pogies, though I did try one once. I like blues, mackerel, salmon, trout, salt cod, finnan haddie, halibut, tuna, any fishy-flavored fish. Whiter fishes like cod or haddock, pollock or strippers, tilapia, cusk or flounder are okay if a little bland. After all, you can always put stuff on them.

Most of the fishermen on our island go after lobster, but thank goodness for the recreational fishermen in our acquaintance. Otherwise, I am left only with the choice in the market with its “previously frozen” selection that always reminds me of a used car lot full of “pre-owned” vehicles.

Most of the fish we get in the market are flat little fillets, so cooking them takes no time to speak of. What I do depends on the shape and flavor of the fish. Here are my standard strategies.

For plain, flat white fish fillets: Chowder if the weather is cool. Broil or bake it; mix together about a quarter of a cup of mayonnaise and a couple tablespoons of some nice grainy mustard (or any mustard) and spread it on the fish, and bake it at 350 until the fish flakes apart, which is not long. Or just oil a pan and broil it until it flakes apart and serve it with a tartar sauce or cocktail sauce.

Make a tartar sauce by mixing together mayo and cucumber relish in whatever proportion you like. Make a cocktail sauce by mixing ketchup and horseradish in whatever proportion you like. You’ll find out what proportion you like by adding a bit, then tasting, then adding more and tasting, and so on until it is the way you like it.

Steaks: Salmon or halibut sometimes come in steak form, crosswise cuts or thick slabs. I pan roast those. Okay, fry. Put a little butter and olive oil in a pan, a few grinds of black pepper, and drop the steaks in. Cook until they look about half done. They change color — just look at the side, and when it looks lighter halfway up, turn them, and cook until they are as done as you like. (Poke them with a fork or knife.) If you want you can rinse the pan with a little white wine, and pour that on the fish. Or use one of the sauces above.

For dark, flat fish fillets: Lay the fillet in an oiled pan, and sprinkle salt and pepper on it. Bake it until it is done. Put salsa on it to serve. Or mix bread crumbs and parmesan cheese (roughly equal quantities) and spread it over the fillet before baking it. Or spread with coarsely chopped onion, lightly sautéed. Or make a mixture of finely cubed yellow and green summer squash, red peppers, and onion, sautéed then spread that on the fish, and bake it. Come to think of it, you can do all this to plain, white fish, too.

Fish in the round: I bake or poach them, unless they are very small, like tinker mackerel or small trout, which are nice rolled in cornmeal and fried for breakfast. Otherwise, you can put stuffing in the opening, and brush on some olive oil, and bake them until they pass the flakes-apart test. Sometimes I put a wedge of lemon and some parsley, chives and tarragon, all wadded up into the opening and then I bake it. Poaching is a bigger deal and I only do that for Special Occasions and we are talking quick ways here.

What’s better than simple fresh fish? Leftovers! Any good old leftover fish can be mixed with an equal quantity of mashed potato, made into fish cakes and fried in oil or bacon drippings. Or warmed up in cream sauce with or with out peas, and put on toast or baked potato.

The easiest fish supper in the world is the one that a neighbor of mine makes that is called Fish and Potatoes. When I make it, I take one potato serving per person (in some cases that is one potato, and in others it’s half a potato, peel and cut it in half, and put it into a pot with enough water to boil them. Peel an onion or two, chop them up and add them to the potatoes. When the potatoes are tender, put in enough fish for the number of people you have (about a third of a pound but don’t cut it too closely). Continue cooking until the fish is done. Drain this. Consider saving the cooking water for your next chowder (there will be a next chowder, right?) Take a masher and mash the fish and potato together, and serve it with melted butter on top. Make extra so you will have some for fishcakes. Is that easy or what? q

Sandy Oliver cooks and writes on Islesboro.