My uncle was a man of the tropical sea, but I know he would have found great joy in the sweet, cold-water bounty of the Delaware Valley, where I own a small vacation home.

This beautiful land of forested mountains and rocky soils has never yielded the artisan foodstuffs of my dreams, but I have come to appreciate its greatness as a fishing territory. Even when my catch is a meager collection of bluegills or rock bass, I luxuriate in the access to fish fresh out of the water.

Running free for 410 miles, unimpeded by man-made waterworks from its birthplace near Hancock, N.Y., to the Delaware Bay, the Delaware River is an angler's paradise. This is where American shad spawns after living to maturity in the ocean. It is also home to the hard-to-catch walleye and plentiful smallmouth bass and a welcoming habitat for delicious brook, brown and rainbow trout.

Trout are members of the salmon family. The brook trout, the state fish of its native Pennsylvania, is often orange-fleshed, with wormlike markings and colorful red spots. It thrives in clear, gravel-strewn streams.

The more abundant brown trout, with its darker color and large round spots, was introduced to Pennsylvania from Germany in the 19th century. Being more tolerant of cloudy waters, it has proven hardier than the native brook trout.

Also introduced to the Northeast in the 19th century, the rosy-fleshed rainbow trout is a Pacific native. It is the most elegant-looking of the bunch, with a lovely pink stripe and tiny dark spots along its silver body.

Shared bounty from angler friends left me besotted by rainbow and brook trout, but we had never managed to catch our own on the fast-flowing creeks on the stretch of the Delaware near our home. I decided to remedy the situation over the Fourth of July weekend by scheduling a half-day class with fly-fishing expert Joe Demalderis.

Excited by the prospect, my husband and I bought books on fly fishing, upgraded our fishing gear, and invited friends for the anticipated trout feast. Unfortunately, we had overlooked a crucial piece of information on Capt. Demalderis' Web site: Fishing on the section of river he plies is strictly catch-and-release.

I rescheduled our class for August, but I still had people to feed. Swallowing our pride, we headed for Paradise Trout Preserve in Cresco, Pa., and joined hundreds of others fishing for trout from a well-stocked pond. Everyone seemed to be having better luck than we were until my husband switched bait and landed a fat rainbow trout.

Like gamblers emboldened by a first win, we were eager to fish on, but a heavy downpour ended our expedition. I had no choice but to buy already-dressed trout from the hatchery.

The fish looked great and could hardly have been fresher. I seasoned them lightly with a spicy green sauce, stuffed them with serrano ham and garlic slivers, and fried them with a seasoned cornmeal crust.

To a hungry crowd, the trout was stupendous with a side of charred eggplant, corn on the cob, and a Parmigiano risotto. I knew better, though. Somewhere in the Delaware is the wild trout of our dreams, and one day we will catch and cook it.

Spicy Salsa Verde for Serrano Ham-Stuffed Trout

Makes 11/2 cups

1/2 bunch fresh parsley

3 or 4 sprigs fresh cilantro

7 garlic cloves

1 jalapeno, seeded and