Much of the fun at picnics seems to stem from trying new dishes that Aunt Molly or cousin Fred or even your sister Marsha made especially for that occasion. After all, for those with adventurous taste buds, if you’ve eaten just one dish of your Mom’s homemade potato salad, coleslaw or macaroni salad you’ve eaten them all. Having said that, it should come as no surprise that this is a culinary article and it is precisely about that; a new picnic dish.

So if you suspect an error has occurred in the printing of this headline, guess again. Even though you may question whether fish have legs, that was no mistake, my dear friends. My wife, Peggy, a most accomplished gourmet chef if ever there was one, makes them. I know. I’ve eaten them. So have hundreds and hundreds of others from here in the Portage Lakes. She has served them to all those wonderful guests who have attended Dano and Tammy Mundy’s annual fireworks party over the years at their waterfront home on Turkeyfoot Lake every Fourth of July.

Everyone loves good home made food at summer picnics, and Tammy’s table is no exception. With barely an inch of tablecloth showing, it’s loaded with just about every kind of dish you’d ever want to test during an evening gathering of family and friends there for just one reason; to watch a pyrotechnic extravaganza. The fact that Peggy’s fish legs are one of the first delicacies to be devoured by these hungry finger licking guests testifies to how good they taste. To put it mildly, they’re abso-tutely-lutely delicious.

However, to be quite honest, it’s somewhat difficult trying to find fish with legs. I know. Peggy and I have looked everywhere. We’ve searched here and there, high and low, but to no avail. So instead, the good wife uses drumsticks. Hey, don’t snicker. With just a little imagination and a desire for something new and delicious, trust me, they taste just like fish legs.

Before rolling on the floor laughing at the given name of these delicious morsels of picnic food, think about this. Even if there aren’t any Buffalo living in, and roaming the streets of, the city with the same name, or anywhere near it, they still serve wings there.

You say that’s okay to name a food after the place it was first served. But fish legs? Isn’t that stretching it?

Why? If you believe Charles Darwin’s Origins of Evolution and his theory on how humanity evolved from the seas, you already know that fish eventually grew legs and walked on land. And to take it one step further, think of this. While Darwin’s fish eventually did grow legs, buffaloes never had wings. Yet today, buffalo wings are a multi-gazillion dollar industry. For fish legs, there’s hope. The sky could be the limit.

I know you’re just dying to try this delicacy. And I really can’t blame you, because once you’ve had one Portage Lakes fish leg, you’ll keep going back for more and more until they’re all gone. So today, I share with you just how my wife creates these delicious morels of scrumptiousness.

The first thing you need to do is purchase a minimum of two dozen chicken legs (no thighs) from your grocer or butcher. Do not use frozen or pre-cooked chicken legs. Make sure they are as fresh as possible. You’ll also need a 9 by 13 rectangular pan about an inch deep, ketchup and brown sugar.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Combine equal parts ketchup and brown sugar until thoroughly mixed. Throw all 24 chicken legs in the 9 by 13 pan on a single level. Brush chicken legs with mixture. Place in an oven for one hour. When they’re finished, allow them to cool at room temperature before setting them in the refrigerator for a minimum of one hour before serving.

Surprise your host by bringing a tray of these mouthwatering, lip-smacking, fish legs to your next party along with the written recipe. And above all, be sure they know they are not chicken legs. They’re Portage Lakes Fish Legs.

Stay tuned, folks. For next year’s July Fourth celebration, Peggy hopes to have perfected her recipe for Barberton Deep Fried Chicken Lips covered in a cinnamon honey dip and smothered in ranch dressing.