Plenty of Fish in the Sea?

For years, I’ve had a love/hate relationship with local fish stores. It seems that every time I find a good one, the honeymoon only lasts a few months before things start to stink. When the air starts to smell, well, fishy and the whole fish in the case look like they have cataracts (a sure sign of being well past prime.) I know it’s time to move on.

A few weeks ago, though, I found a fish market near my home that I thought might be “the one.” Lots of locals had recommended it, but I kept passing it by, nonplussed by its locale sharing a parking lot with a busy beer store and cigar hut. But one day, a few weeks ago, I decided to try it after a particularly aggravating experience at the Wild By Nature fish counter where I waited for someone to show up for 10 minutes after being repeatedly promised he was on his way. Eventually I just walked out, but driving home I passed the fish market and decided to give it a go. After all, I had planned on fish for dinner and had no fish in hand.

Once inside, I was happy that the place was neat, clean, and smelling sweet. I was thrilled to see a white board scribbled primarily with local catches of the day. More to the point, that catch comprised fish that were abundant and not over harvested. There was even striped bass—a fishery rebound success story thanks to catch limits put in place by state and local governments when the fishery was in danger some years ago.

That day, I was able to buy some sushi grade local tuna with which I made a spicy tuna and avocado sashimi and some basa which found its way into a Thai green curry sauce alongside jasmine rice. I have returned to the market many times since, each visit more pleasing than the last.

Until today.

Today, as I waited patiently for the woman in front of me to make her purchase I couldn’t help but listen to her exchange with the fishmonger. He was convincing her that the fish she was about to buy was superb, the best she would ever taste, and that he would take his reputation on it. She was hesitant because it was $20 a pound. Intrigued, I turned away from inspecting the local flounder and tried to peek at the fish on the scale.

It was snowy white with a distinctive black and white diamond pattern on its skin. My heart sank and just at that moment the woman asked a question to which I sadly knew the answer.

“What’s it called?” she said.

“Chilean sea bass,” answered the counter guy.

Yes. Chilean Sea Bass or, really, Patagonian Tooth Fish, which next to beluga caviar, is one of the most over fished, stressed fish populations in the sea. For years, three-star chefs like Rick Moonen of RM have refused to put it on the menu. Jacques Pepin urges consumers and diners not to eat it and organizations like Seafood Watch from the Monterey Bay Aquarium have put the fish in an “avoid” status on its Seafood Choices Chart. I myself have written about better seafood choices for news outlets and food magazines and have always strongly advised against Chilean Sea Bass.

It was all I could do not to butt in and tell both merchant and customer what I thought about that sale based on my principles as a chef and as the editor of a magazine promoting sustainability and eco-awareness.

But I had a dilemma because this store promoted local seafood and local fisherman. Should I write them off the list and, essentially, harass another customer because of one transgression? Still, that transgression multiplied over many more sales and in many more markets around the county, the Island, the country is what has cost the Patagonian Tooth Fish its existence. And, as any sustainable eater knows, if you wipe out one species the many others that depend upon it for their own food will die off too, setting of a food-chain based cycle of destruction.

Ultimately, I didn’t say anything, resolving privately to take my shopping dollars elsewhere—and it’s bothered me ever since. Is taking my measly $20 a week away from this store really enough? Perhaps the better tack is to let the proprietors know my position, and encourage them to change their ways. Perhaps I should have said something to my fellow customer. Certainly, I’ll say something to all the neighbors and friends who recommended the market in the first place.

The question is, when it comes to sustainability, should it be one strike, you’re out?

What do you think?

Check out Monterey Bay Aquariums Seafood Choices Chart and learn about what more you can do to protect our ocean fisheries at http://www.mbayaq.org/cr/seafoodwatch.asp