A band playing instruments plucked from the garbage, a devotional Kurt Vonnegut float and a lone middle-aged baton twirler were just a few features of Livingston Manor’s (pop. 1500) Annual Trout Parade. Positioned near the Willowemoc Creek, with its beaver dams, bogs and meadows, the area offers some of the finest brook trout fishing in the Catskills. It only makes sense that they host the Annual Trout Parade. I attended the Fourth Annual Trout Parade not out of love for fishing, but to both enjoy the optimism and oldfangled charms of a small-town American parade, and eat some delicious local trout in as many preparations as possible. En route to the parade, I pondered the limitless possibilities of trout.

“Maybe there will be trout jerky, trout hot dogs, trout tiradito or trout pie,” I thought to myself.

If not at the Trout Parade, then where?

Parade watchers gathered before noon on Main Street looking for the perfect stretch of curb while provident locals relaxed in their folding chairs flanked by coolers. With only a hint of desperation, we crossed the to-be parade route toward the temporary booths that signify parade food. I was counting on a myriad of trout options (sort of a trout version of Max Brenner’s shop where nearly every dish, savory or sweet contains chocolate). This could be a showcase for trout’s under-recognized versatility. Several feet from where I was standing, I spotted a food stall, grill smoking hot, with a small line forming. Its sign read Papa Tony’s Trouttoria. How cute! Amused, elated and ready for lunch, it was time to get our trout eats before the parade began.

“What kind of trout are you serving?” I inquired innocently.

“We have sausage and peppers,” the surly proprietress replied, as if I were the first (and likely the dumbest) person to ever ask that question.

“Trout sausage?” my friend responded.

“No,” said the man running the griglia. As people pushed by us to get their sausage, we just stood staring at the Trouttoria. His braggadoccio surprised me.

“They’re not serving trout anything?” I said to no one in particular, as I attempted to gather my thoughts. I scanned the other food stalls, but it quickly became apparent that none of these rag tag booths was dispensing any form of trout.

Just as things were about to get bleak, we were tipped off about a restaurant serving “trout rolls” about thirty yards away. With the parade starting in minutes, one of our group splintered off to brave the undulating crowds, soon returning with two trout rolls. Strangely relieved, we found our own length of curb to watch the parade.

If you’ve never had a trout roll, it is best described as a lobster roll made with trout. Cooked trout is flaked into small pieces and mixed with a combination of herbs, onion, mayonnaise and spices essentially becoming a trout salad. Our beloved trout roll came on a simple roll with lettuce and tomato. Unlike the delicate lobster roll that can easily be ruined with too much seasoning, the pungent trout can withstand liberal spicing that counterbalances its smokiness. A perfect blend of sweetness and smoke, this trout roll was the first, and likely the best I could hope to have.

As for the parade? It lasted a jovial ten minutes. The trout rolls about five.