The fancy cousin of the common flounder. It shares the same flattened sideways-swimming body plan. But it is thinner and more delicate. A distinctive pale yellow tinge marks the underside. This gives it its name. The upper side is mottled sandy brown. This provides perfect camouflage against gravel and shell bits of the deep seafloor. It is a picky eater with expensive taste. Lemon sole feed almost exclusively on small soft-bodied creatures. These include worms, tiny crustaceans and the occasional small shellfish. They do not have the crushing teeth of flounder. So they cannot handle hard-shelled prey. This makes them a good indicator of a healthy muddy bottom full of juicy worms. A fish that tells you about the mud. It has a reputation among chefs as the most delicate of the flatfish. The flesh is so thin and fine that it almost melts in the mouth. But this delicacy is also a problem. The fillets are thin. They are easy to overcook. They fall apart if looked at wrong. A fish that demands respect in the kitchen. To cook a lemon sole is to cook with confidence. Lightly floured. Gently fried in butter. Served immediately, before it has a chance to remember it is a fish. It is the fish that restaurant chefs love and home cooks avoid. The one that looks simple but demands respect. The Maori name is not separately recorded. Lemon sole was likely grouped with other flatfish. It was noticed but not named individually. A fish of the deep trawl, not of the inshore nets. That is the lemon sole. Delicate, pale, and demanding. A flatfish that rewards the skilled cook and punishes the careless one. In Māori tradition, the Lemon Sole did not have a distinct name. This is likely because it lives in deeper water. It was less accessible to traditional fisheries. European settlers named it for its pale, yellowish belly. Today it remains the fish that restaurant chefs love and home cooks avoid. It is the one that looks simple but demands respect. Its culinary status exceeds its cultural footprint.