Fish Wish
Our ship pulled into Alicante, Spain just after lunch, sometime in October. A port city on the Mediterranean, it was everything a Spanish coastal town is advertised as. As everyone was leaving the ship to get some sustenance, mostly in liquid form, I, as chief steward had been given dinner duties off. My afternoon and evening were my own. I grabbed my backpack and camera and headed into the city. I wandered around for a while and came to a large building in the city center. Mercado de Carne, it said on the outside. My very limited Spanish led me to believe that it was Market of Meat. Paradise. I walked up the stairs, grabbed the door handle and pulled. Locked. The sign said, “Open 3 am, closed 1 pm”. With my forehead against the glass of the mercado, I caught a faint whiff of coffee and cookies through the crack, and wept.
The next morning, I had breakfast prepped and ready to go and was out the door by 3 am. I walked to the market and was greeted by the most amazing thing I had yet seen on my travels: fish, pork, beef, sausages, coffee, baked goods, flowers, produce. It was all there. I needed to be back to the ship by 9 am and I had 150 Euros in my pocket. My poor Patagonia backpack was put through the paces that morning, as I returned to the ship with it bulging with cuttlefish, tuna, octopus and a number of local delicious fishes that I couldn’t identify. I need to make one thing clear here. While this was one of the best experiences I had traveling across five continents and through 25 countries, for the residents of Alicante it was just shopping. No different than you and me running to the Stop & Shop.
Cape Cod has the best seafood in the world. Our combination of warm, nutrient-rich water mixed into the cold, oxygen-rich water allows for a special location that produces amazing seafood. Cod, haddock, swordfish, monkfish, sea scallops, bay scallops, clams, oysters, mussels, bluefish, calamari, the list goes on and on. After my experiences in so many countries where fish is sold directly from the fisherman to the consumer I wondered why we can’t do that here, on Cape Cod, with the best seafood to be found almost anywhere. For sure in North America.
The proposal seems simple enough. Create a building with permanent booths and a centralized ice facility and allow small fisherman to sell their wares. It could be displayed, sold whole or fileted on the spot. Classes could be given on sustainable practices, and information about the local fisheries that we should support. Local chefs could get their fish for daily specials every day, tourists could come and see just where that wonderful fish they are eating comes from and visit the fishermen and their families who work so hard to get it to us. To me, it seems like a win-win for consumers, chefs, and fishermen. We don’t have to invent this wheel, it has been in use for thousands of years in many other countries. We just need to make it fit our location.
I spoke with George Maynard, Policy & Research Coordinator at the Cape Cod Commercial Fishermen’s Alliance about this idea and he agreed it was a good one, though laws and regulations and the different governing bodies involved make it almost an impossible task. Currently, the process to get seafood to you—the consumer—looks like this (super simplified). The fisherman has a fishing license. He catches the fish and then sells it to a wholesaler/processor who has a separate license. The wholesaler then sells the fish to a retailer who maintains a separate license as well. In whole, there are at least three licenses and a process that takes at least two to three days. A Cape Cod fishermen’s market would allow the fisherman to sell directly to the consumer, on the same day. The only way you’ll get fresher fish is to catch it yourself.
I considered the effect this could have on local retailers and tried to reach out to those I knew. Alas, it was July in one of the busiest tourist areas in the country, and none had any real time to sit down and talk. What I did find out is this: most of those retailers generate most of their business through sales to restaurants and hotels. None of them indicated that small-family fisherman selling their wares at a fish market would have any impact on their bottom line. In fact, one felt that as customers were introduced to new types and cuts of fish the demand would actually increase for him.
I drove down to Brewster and met with Regina Casterella, managing partner and executive chef at Apt (it’s not an acronym). I wanted to see what she was doing at this location and what she thought of the idea. When I asked if she would be willing to go to a market like this every morning and gather her seafood for the day, she gave an emphatic yes. She pointed out that being able to see, touch and smell the fish makes for a more satisfying transaction. It should also be noted that every week Regina heads down to the Chatham Farmers’ Market and buys her sea scallops from Beau Gibbs, a local fisherman who has found his way to get through the hoops required to make this happen.
Pier to plate allows the consumer to have confidence that what they are getting is absolutely fresh and of the highest quality. How far would she be willing to travel? Anywhere in the mid-Cape area to Chatham. To be able to provide a superlative experience for her guests is tantamount and a steady supply of local fish like striped bass, halibut, bluefish and monkfish that she could serve the same day it is caught would be a tremendous boost to the customers’ confidence. We talked about the fact that the best chefs in the world take advantage of local markets in their countries. They gather the materials they need for their daily uses and prepare the most fantastic meals using the freshest, brightest ingredients. Our main ingredient is seafood and we should showcase its freshness and the array of flavor profiles.
Another interesting conundrum of buying fish that has already been butchered when delivered to the restaurant is that we are seeing a loss of the skill of how to properly filet or dress a fish. Side note here, when I was twelve years old I got my first job. I lived in Sandwich and after school I would go down to the Sandwich marina and hammer the tops on the boxes of fish being offloaded at the building that stood at the mouth of the marina. I don’t know what it was called, I don’t care that it was illegal. I did it. I was paid in fish. All the fish that didn’t make it into a box I got to take home. The volume of fish being offloaded was impressive, the flow fast and plenty of fish ended up on the pile of ice under the table. I took it home and learned how to filet it. I knew how to filet a flounder before I read To Kill a Mockingbird. That skill has been lost. A couple of years ago I worked with a chef who spoke seven languages, but he couldn’t filet a fish in any of them. Outfitted properly, local culinary students could learn that art again. The market could, and should, have an educational aspect; there could be classes on preparation, sustainable practices, trash fish; the list is exhaustive.
It seems like a win-win-win: a boon to local chefs craving the freshest seafood, little to no impact on local seafood retailers, and educating locals and tourists alike. Here are three things that I think drive home what a positive impact this could have.
One, tourists would love it. Our entire year round economy is based upon two-and-a-half to three months of heavy tourism. Tourists love seafood. They come here for it. To provide them a place where it is on display in all its glory and they see the hard work that goes in to providing it for them would be amazing. The opportunity to meet the families that their purchases support would be tremendous. People need to know where their food comes from. The provenance is important. This is a great way to provide that connection between the consumer and the provider.
Two, both the fisherman and consumer benefit economically. By the time scallops go through the process of getting caught, wholesaled, processed, and retailed the cost is upwards of $30.00 per pound plus. As of July, scallop fishermen are paid an average of $9.00 per pound for sea scallops (New Bedford Seafood Auction July 9, 2019). Currently they are selling retail at Fishermen’s View in Sandwich for $20.00 per pound. Splitting the difference saves the consumer $5.50 a pound and increases the fisherman’s take by the same amount. Any time the provider can make more money while the consumer saves money is a win-win situation.
Three, I’ve already mentioned. The provenance. Knowing where your seafood is coming from. Interacting with those that bring it to you. Understanding the principals of sustainable seafood practices. These are all very important and impactful aspects of a properly managed, year round, open air fish market.
There are lots of smart people here. This is a concept that has almost zero negative impact and 100% positive impact. We can work together to create this, manage this and sustain something that has tremendous potential value. Let’s at least have the conversation and if needed create a delegation that travels to all the best markets in Europe and see how that wheel works and how we can make it work here. I’ll be the chairman and travel planner.
