Whole Fish

The True Gulf Red Snapper - Part #1

noreply@blogger.com (Whole Fish) — Wed, 13 Oct 2010 00:16:00 +0000

Because of the many points of interest, history and arguments about Gulf Red Snapper, this will be the first part of a series of blogs on the subject.

There is little doubt that the most important offshore finfish species in the Gulf is the American Red Snapper; few fish are as popular, controversial and plentiful off the coast of Texas. I know that most of my year is spent gearing up for those scant few days in which the season opens up in Federal waters.

The most amazing thing about American Red Snapper is that our understanding of the state of this resource is so incredibly inconsistent and incomplete. Red Snapper are second only to shrimp in economic importance in the Gulf of Mexico. And, like shrimp, Red Snapper is also one of the most argued about resources. This fish’s history, peculiar habits and habitat (which is heavily debated), the span of its proliferation, its beneficial relationship with the energy industry and immense fan club of recreational fishermen and restaurateurs nationwide make the Red Snapper a perfect example of a much larger issue: how to balance the Gulf as a sustainable fishery and resource for both commercial and recreational fishermen. The arguments, which I will explore in this blog series, over the Red Snapper’s condition, resemble age-old religious conflicts: scientists, fisherman and conservationists alike split down the middle and the only thing that both sides can agree on is that it is unlikely that either point will ever be proven. All of this aside, the most important thing is that the Red Snapper are mounting a comeback, proving that well thought-out and scientific-based conservation programs do work.

As I was writing this, all I could think about was Sunday morning. Saturday night’s busy service, the second week’s airing of The Next Iron Chef on Sunday night…none of this mattered. Since NOAA announced in mid-September the re-opening of snapper season for the next two months (on weekends only), I’ve been planning this two-day outing. It has been almost five years since recreational fishermen have been able to snapper fish during the fall. The re-opening was announced in order for the recreational guys to catch the quota they did not reach due to the BP Deep Water Horizon oil spill.

The re-opening will be a huge boost to the captains and guides of the charter industry as well as the recreational fishing industry in general. For those of you who aren’t familiar with the immense economical impact the recreational fishery has, here are a few numbers: 300,000 jobs in the Gulf Coast Region are linked to the industry and their hard work translates into $41 billion a year. That’s $8.6 million a day. And that shit ain’t peanuts.

Seas were like blue glass

On Saturday night, winds were 5 knots and seas 1 foot at 5.4 second intervals, with 8 second dominant wave intervals. What does that mean, you ask? It means an ocean of glass and it means that I was 50 to 60 miles offshore by the time you were making your morning coffee and busy catching Mahi, Cobia, Kingfish...

Big Kingfish cut down to size by an even bigger Bull Shark

Mike with a big Mangrove Snapper

and a fat limit of these ruby red beauties:

The day's total catch

In addition to the day’s catch it was a magical day on the water with multiple Kemp’s Ridley Sea Turtle sightings and acrobatic dolphin drafting off our head wake.

Green Sea Turtle

Kemp's Ridley Sea Turtle

The American Red Snapper (Lutjanus Campechanus) is also known as Genuine Red Snapper, which pretty much says it all. The most common snapper in the Gulf, the American Red makes its home mainly from the northern Gulf to the Bay of Campeche. Their habitat is mainly between the depths of 50 to 300 feet mostly around reefs, rocks, ledges, wrecks, and offshore oil and gas platforms as they are strongly attracted to any sort of relief or obstruction. Previously thought to be more of a territorial species (one in which adults don’t move around much), recent studies show that only 26% of tagged fish are found in the same place one year later, moving an average of 19 miles before recapture. After a hurricane, tagged fish have been found up to 220 miles from their original location.

Red Snapper spawn over twenty times a year at four to six day intervals between late May and early October. Maturing at the size of around one foot, the smaller fish will produce roughly 500 eggs while the larger ones will belt out around 2 million. Although they are considered reef fish, very little of their diet consists of reef dwellers; instead they dine on mostly sea robins, pinfish, striped anchovies, cusk eels and pigfish. Their next favorite food is Stromapods (king shrimp or sea lice). Because of the Red Snapper’s popularity and successful marketing, there have been quite a few scandals of restaurateurs attempting to pass off other fish – like sheep’s head, black drum and other snappers -- as Red Snapper filet, not because of the quality, but because of the name.

The finished product: Crispy Skin Snapper, Sweet & Sour Swiss Chard, Tomato Brown Butter.

To Be Continued…

Redfish on the Half-Shell: Technique over Talent

noreply@blogger.com (Whole Fish) — Wed, 16 Jun 2010 11:50:00 +0000

After opening and finishing a year at Jean-Georges Vongerichten’s Dune in the

Bahamas

, I asked Jean-Georges to send me on a stage (a stage is a series of stints in other restaurants that your chef/mentor sets up for you as a learning opportunity). I started spitting out names of big name chefs like Alain Passard, Alain Ducasse and Marc Veyrat; when I was done, he softly said, “OK.” Whoa, I thought. “But Chef,” I said, “where would you have me go?” I wanted his input, his advice. That’s when his eyes lit up and he began to talk about technique. “You’ve already worked in Europe,” he said, “and the last five years you’ve studied at school and trained with me all things based in French technique. Go to Asia and every day a new and foreign technique will reveal itself.” After five months in Hong Kong and Bangkok, I completely understood what Jean-Georges meant.

I’ve never put much stock in talent. It seems to me it’s always used when people talk of missed opportunities. I believe that hard work, tenacity, not being afraid of failure and a dedication to perfecting technique can surpass talent in any field of play.

Unique techniques that are specific to a region and micro-culture are hard to come by. In the Texas-Louisiana Gulf Coast region, Redfish on the Half-Shell surely fits that bill.

My first introduction to fish cookery was given to me by my grandfather, Olin “Swede” Caswell, with his technique for cooking Redfish.

Red Drum (Sciaenops ocellatus), Channel Bass, Red Fish, Spottail Seabass -- or just Reds -- are cousins to the Black Drum and have been known to interbreed. The coloring of Redfish changes due to its surroundings, ranging from bright copper to silver gray. Most have one spot on the upper quarter of the tail but multi-spotted fish are not uncommon.

Redfish range from the mid-Atlantic coast to the Yucatan and, although they predominately occupy the lowland marshes and estuaries in the summer months, they can be found in depths of up to 75 feet. Their main diet is crab and shrimp but they also have an appetite for menhaden, mullet and pigfish. Redfish are a Diadromous species.

Redfish have tremendous spawning potential with up to 1.5 million eggs per spawn which, on average, is every two days during their two month spawning period, from mid-August to mid-October. Their 20-40 million eggs per season coupled with their high growth rate and tolerance to fresh water is why Redfish are such a good candidate for aquaculture. Currently, Texas has three Redfish farms totaling 458 acres with a yearly production of about 3 million pounds. During the spawn, male Redfish start to congregate. If you’ve ever come up on a Redfish boil, then you know what I mean. Thousands of Reds stack on top of each other, kicking up mud and making the water “boil.”

Redfish have also played a large part in politics. In 1977, fourteen concerned anglers got together and started the “Save the Redfish” campaign. The Redfish population was in need of help because of heavy commercial pressure, gill-netting and inadequate limits and enforcement of recreational fisherman. These anglers formed the Gulf Coast Conservation Association (GCCA) and, by 1985, their membership had spread to Florida; by the 1990’s their reach went beyond the Gulf and they became the Coastal Conservation Alliance (CCA). Today, the CCA is a legislative force on local, state and national levels in protecting our Coasts.

Now, back to technique. Redfish on the Half-Shell has been a camp house staple up and down the coast all of my life and one that is very unique to this region. Redfish are a very hardy species with a very thick skin and scale structure.

The fish is filleted without skinning or scaling, then oiled and seasoned heavily on the flesh side. It is then placed on a hot grill - scales down - and that’s where it stays. The scales provide the perfect protection for the harsh flames.

The flesh side is basted frequently and covered during the process. This creates the perfect smoked/grilled/baked combination that results in one of the most distinguishable, and flavorful, fish techniques of all.

Redfish on the Half-Shell, Sauteed Gai Lan, Fried Mac & Cheese

Top Secret Locale: H-Town Loquats

noreply@blogger.com (Whole Fish) — Wed, 28 Apr 2010 22:14:00 +0000

Ask anybody: I’ll tell you how, I’ll tell you when, I’ll tell you where and how often.

I’m really an open book when it comes to what I do every day. I love knowledge and learning about food and enjoy surrounding myself with like-minded individuals; sharing that knowledge is how we all grow. However, there are a few exceptions. Some things just become counter-productive when you share. For example, concerning fishing, I’ll tell you how and where I caught ‘em, but only if I’m not going out tomorrow or the day after. Or my A-plus Kitchen repair guy; you know, I’d love to give you Will’s number, but he’s too busy as it is and, baby, when my freezer goes down…well, you can imagine. And inner-city foraging; OK, so not everyone has a need for this information, but you are f#*king crazy if you think I’m giving up my Loquat locales.

Childhood food recollections are what I am all about, just check out my menu; collards, chicken and dumplings, gumbo and yeast rolls from Birdie-Bea and Ma Daigle, my Grandmothers. Redfish on the half-shell and love of all things mayonnaise from Olin “Swede” Augustus Caswell, my Grandfather. And foraging as a child growing up in Houston: scraping honeysuckle through my teeth, picking dewberries from a vacant lot, and the motherload of Spring…Loquats.

The Loquat (Eriobotrya japonica) is part of the Rose (Rosaceae) family, whose members include apples, pears, quince and most stone fruit (like cherries, plums, apricots and even almonds).

An evergreen tree (one of the reasons I believe it is so prolific in Houston), the Loquat’s oval, cherry-sized, pear-shaped fruits grow in clusters, with a fuzzy peach-like skin and a tart apricot-like mouth feel. Ripening only on the vine, Loquats will hang tight in refrigeration for about a week, but quickly become bruised if not left on the stem. They contain a high amount of pectin so lend themselves well to jellies, either solo or with a partner. The seeds definitely need to be removed before cooking because they contain a small amount of Cyanogenetic Glycocices, which releases cyanide when digested, which is bad. Interestingly, when you eat the fruit in large quantities, it produces a calming sedative effect for up to 24 hours, which can be good (depending on your affinities).

The Loquat is of Chinese origin and was introduced and naturalized into Japan over 1,000 years ago. It was also naturalized into India and written about in Portugese literature before the Age of Discovery (that was the freakin’ 15^th century!) and thought to have been brought to Hawaii by Chinese immigrants; I imagine it was introduced into Houston by way of Hawaii. The most interesting thing is, aside from a few mail order websites, I have never seen Loquats in a grocery store and rarely at the farmers’ markets.

The most important thing to know is that the Loquat LOVES Houston. Once you know what they look like, you too can keep watch on your Loquat locales, and come Spring, check on them daily for ripeness. But if you see me hanging out by a tree in your neighborhood, be ready to tussle.

Loquat and CardAmom PRESERVES recipe

1 quart of Loquats, washed and seeded (discard all seeds)

1 1/2 cups water

1 1/2 cup sugar

8 each toasted cardamom pods

In a saucepan over low-medium heat, dissolve the sugar in water, then add the loquats and cook until the fruit has become transparent. Stir frequently to keep from burning.

Spoon into hot canning jars and top with lids. Tip - a good way to guarantee that your jars get a good seal, place them in your dishwasher (after you fill and put the top on) and run the hottest cycle (without soap, of course!).

Restaurateur 101: Put Your Bail Bondsman’s Number on Speed Dial

noreply@blogger.com (Whole Fish) — Sat, 20 Feb 2010 13:49:00 +0000

The world of an independent restaurant owner is one of many dangers and great peril. Kind of like the 1980’s video game Pitfall: there are snakes, gators, trap doors, rolling logs and quicksand around every corner and it quickly becomes a game of timing and remembering key movements from your last trip down that corridor.

Birdie-Bea Caswell (my grandmother) used to say, “It takes all kinds,” and that certainly explains the colorful cross-section of individuals who make up a restaurant crew. My crew is no different (myself included). With the hours we work and the stress from the level of importance and detail we place on every diner or service, we all end up needing to blow off a little steam, or we forget to pay a ticket or we have a slight misunderstanding with a colleague (myself included). Please don’t misunderstand, I am in no way condoning such behavior, I’m just saying that it happens -- not often but, when it does, you’re going to need a quick hand, prompt action and - most of all - Mise en Place.

Call it an employee benefit, if you like. I’ve always welcomed the responsibility of bailing my crew out when they end up on the wrong side of the law. You might feel that it’s actually irresponsible of me, that I am condoning bad behavior, but the priests at my high school (St. Thomas) used to provide the same courtesy. With the recent James Beard nomination of Phillip Speer -- my first bailee – it just goes to show that second chances are all they are cracked up to be.

Let me lay it out for you (because, more often than not, this is how it goes down): You get a call at 5:30am Friday morning (this kind of shit never happens on Monday!) that your #1 Grill Guy (aka Potsie) is in the slamma. You can count on two things in this situation: one, Potsie will do just about anything to be freed from the chains that bind; and two, who the hell is gonna run the grill tomorrow night? Immediately, the thought of doing those 350-400 covers without Potsie causes a burning sensation in your gut, and the words “Lord, I’m gonna be sick!” cross your lips. Quick as the word bubba, we can make this happen.

Here is exactly what you need to do when you hear that dreaded recorded phrase (“This is a collect call from the City of Houston Jail”) pulling you out of a deep sleep:

#1 – Set up your cell phone to receive collect calls.

I don’t know anyone who still uses their home phone anymore. And cell phones don’t accept collect calls unless you set them up to do so. Call your cellular provider and set up an inexpensive pre-paid option.

#2 – Keep an employee list handy

In the middle of the night, you’re not going to remember how Potsie spells his last name, much less his DOB. Keep an updated employee list handy (with the correct spelling of everyone’s name) and make sure you have their birth dates (the most important information for the bail bondsman).

#3 - When that dreaded call comes, move very quickly.

The goal is to get them out ASAP, despite the inherent, mind-boggling slowness of the entire process. The slamma is one big-ass line – there’s a line for everything, a line to get in, a line to get out. The sooner you get the bond paid, the sooner they get in the line to get out. Even worse is the line to County (so count your blessings if your guy is still in the City jail). Usually within 24 hours, depending on the charge, your friend is gonna get transferred to County, which means flip-flops, orange jumpsuits and the worst kind of company. So act fast.

#4 – Ask Potsie the right questions.

The information the bail bondsman needs to know is:

What precinct are they in and what department?

Remember, Houston has many small municipalities and villages -- West U, Belliare, the Memorial villages. If the arrest was made by HPD, it’s usually Houston St. for boys or Mykawa for the ladies.

What was the charge?

This is pretty important when it comes time to take a collection for the bond.

For most, the first time you get arrested is about the worst experience ever. A little assurance that you’re gonna bust them out goes a long way.

#5 – Immediately call your Bail Bondsman.

Oh you don’t have one? Well, most don’t and that is the core of this lesson. With one trip and a little paperwork, you can make this entire process simple and bail that loved one out with just a 30 minute visit to the Bail bondsman.

I’ve used A Way Out for about six years and they have done me right, but if you have a lawyer friend just ask them who they recommend. While you’re there filling out your paperwork, plug in the Bail Bondsman’s number in your phone and get a contact name, makes it easier when you’re making that bleary-eyed 5:30 am call. At A-Way-Out, it’s Lalo in the AM and Angela in the PM.

Now all you have to worry about is Potsie’s ride home. Usually, that’s the job of the sauté guy who was out with him the night before.

The Mighty Trigger Fish: A Face Only a Mother Could Love

noreply@blogger.com (Whole Fish) — Fri, 01 Jan 2010 03:41:00 +0000

The Trigger Fish

The Trigger Fish is a rather unusual character and tough as a boot. There are 40 species of the Balisidae family worldwide that are also members of the Tetraodontidae class, which links them to the Puffer Fish (or fabled Fugu or Blowfish). There are three main types found in the Gulf of Mexico: Gray, Queen and Ocean. The most common is the Gray Triggerfish, Balistes capriscus, sometimes called Leatherback or Common Turbot.

The Trigger owes its name to the series of spines that make up the dorsal fin. Once the first and largest spine is locked in an upright position no amount of pressure can force it down. The second spine, which is smaller, slides forward behind the first; the only way it can be lowered is by depressing the third spine -- the trigger. This spinal structure is used as a defense mechanism to protect the fish from attack; it also allows the fish to lock itself into a tight space. But this fish’s defensive abilities don’t stop there. The trigger is equipped with an armored body -- bony plates and a leathery skin that can wipe the edge off the sharpest knife. Even with all of this armor, it’s the Trigger’s chompers that usually garner the most attention.

Trigger Teeth

And they aren’t afraid to use them. Just ask my buddy, Captain Scott, who had a chunk of his ear removed by one on a spear fishing trip. Seeing those chisel-like teeth, you can imagine that the Trigger’s diet is comprised mostly of shelled critters: barnacles, snapping shrimp, crabs, clams and mussels; they seem to have a special affinity for echinoderms (sea urchins and sand dollars). Triggers will hunt around the edges of the structures they inhabit in a vertical position and uncover the sand dollar by blowing water into the sand.

Prolific in most of the Gulf of Mexico in waters of 40-200 feet, Trigger Fish mature in 1-3 years and seem to mate randomly (and in a polygamous fashion) resulting in 50,000-100,000 eggs. Once hatched, the young race to the surface and swim into Sargassum mats. They are so dependent on the Sargassum that, in years when the seaweed is sparse, the Triggers’ overall spawn is greatly affected.

As far as fishing goes, the Trigger Fish has always been the unsung hero of the offshore trip. For years, I had trouble prying them from the captain’s hands because they were used as the crew’s bonus. I find that old adage, “You are what you eat,” applies to fish very well. The Trigger’s almost exclusive shellfish diet lends the flesh a very similar taste profile. The Trigger is very versatile with different cooking techniques -- it handles the sauté and the grill equally well. It even shines on the half-shell, showing up on Chris Shephard’s menu at Catalan frequently.

So here it is.
Seared Triggerfish, Field Pea and Sweet Onion Compote, Beet Vinaigrette

It All Started with a Tweet: Southbound Food on 1560 AM The Game -Kick Ass Radio That Tastes Great

noreply@blogger.com (Whole Fish) — Sat, 12 Sep 2009 03:02:00 +0000

I had only been on Twitter about a month when I received a DM (that’s Twitter-speak for a Direct Message) from a guy named Lance Zierlein. (He wanted to do a Stage in the kitchen at REEF (a Stage is when you spend time –unpaid -- in another chef’s kitchen to learn as much as you can about different cooking styles and operations). I’m a big believer in the Stage method of learning and I still do it whenever I get the chance.

At the time, it didn’t click who this guy was but once we started talking, I caught on. Lance, along with his co-host John Granato, has the most popular AM drive- time sports talk show in Houston on 1560 AM, a locally-owned and operated station. (Lance is also a very popular blogger with The Z Report, for the Houston Chronicle. I didn’t even know that independently-owned stations existed in the present day and age of the monster conglomerates. After Lance made it through a busy Friday night service, we set a date for me to come on his show as a judge for the “Late Night Drunken Munchie Throwdown.” My stomach still hasn’t forgiven me for their listener, P.D., who threw down the Ramen, Wolf Chili, Ro-tel, Hot Dog, Cheese, Red Onion and Black Olive gut bomb we experienced. It was the best time I’ve ever had on a radio show -- not a whole lot of structure but plenty of bullshit, right up my alley. Soon after the show aired, comments started streaming in and we both realized that there might be an audience for a relaxed, fun and informative food talk show. And Southbound Food was born.

I feel very fortunate to be a part of such a Bad Ass radio station, and I can’t say enough about the whole 1560 AM The Game crew; they have THE setup that kind of reminds me of the early days of Sports Center (with Keith Olbermann and Dan Patrick) when the talent was so damn strong and funny. I recently attended the station’s Mug Awards (kind of like the ESPY awards) where they had real storm troopers, Boba Fett and Darth Vader walking around, Lance did his Rapping Dad routine and Ken Hoffman actually boxed a girl. I laughed out loud the entire time.

The whole vibe of the station is relaxed and Southbound Food is shaping up to be a freak show hybrid of Julia Child and Howard Stern, serving up food and drink with a hefty side of bullshit. Hosted by me and Lance, along with Jenny Wang (from www.imneverfull.com and Houston Chowhounds) and Danny Vara and Franky “The Bull” Bullington (from 1560 The Game), Southbound Food is turning out to be a raucously funny, no-holds-barred roller coaster ride where we cover current events in the Houston food scene, discuss what foodies are talking about (like Top Chef episodes) and bring in leading chefs and restaurateurs as guests (and you should hear what’s being said when we’re NOT talking about food!).

Unlike other talk shows out there, this one’s got a life of its own, walking a straight subject line one minute and careening off into the unbelievable-but-true stories of our lives on the front lines of the cooking world the next.

So far, our guest list has been great with the likes of: Jonathan Jones (Executive Chef, Beaver’s), Randy Evans (former chef from Brennan’s and currently with Haven), Michael Housewright (Block 7 Wine Company), superstar winemaker Heidi Barrett of La Sirena Wines, Gail Simmons from Top Chef, Mike Dei Maggi, Cody Vasek, Robert Hall III, Chris Shepard, and seafood expert Mark Musatto from Airline seafood.

Check out this week’s show a day early on 1560 AM’s podcast site with special guests Tony Vallone, The Fearless Critic Robin Goldstein and featuring a special parody segment where we deliver a healthy right cross to the competition.

Follow Southbound Food on Twitter @SouthboundFood

Visit www.SouthboundFood.com

The Return of the White Van: Fresh Gulf Shrimp

noreply@blogger.com (Whole Fish) — Sat, 01 Aug 2009 12:13:00 +0000

If you have ever read this blog, or you and I have had drinks that spilled into a long night of me lamenting my long lost youth, then you’ve heard me talk about the white van with S H R I M P written on the side that used to crawl through my old neighborhood, honking every fifth or sixth house. Well, folks, my chariot has returned.

Gulf White Shrimp, (Penaeus Setiferus) is one of the three main commercial species of trawled shrimp in the Gulf of Mexico. If you’ve ever had fresh, never frozen, head-on shrimp then you know the difference from the normal shrimp routine. These are soft, meaty, toothy (but not rubbery), like a small steak from the sea. It’s like the difference between concentrate OJ vs. freshly-squeezed: immediate, obvious, worlds apart.

Fresh White Shrimp

White shrimp spawn in the Gulf with females releasing about 100,000 – 1,000,000 eggs that hatch with in 24 hours. They are then carried shoreward by the Gulf’s wind and currents and, in that time, they are a whopping quarter-inch long. They migrate into the inner bays, creeks and marshes, necessary protection for their survival and growth. An omnivorous species, they have an incredibly rapid growth rate of .04 to .09 inches per day. When they reach about 3-5 inches, they move back out into the bays and Gulf to start the process all over again. Commercially, Gulf shrimp are considered an annual crop with a lifespan of less than a year.

There is a dark underbelly to these soft, white beauties, though. I know that. And an eternal struggle rages within my mind and heart. I often feel like a walking dichotomy, a contradiction of morality, views and beliefs. And shrimp are the perfect example of what tears me in two.

Shrimping is the largest commercial fishery in Texas, yielding almost 236 million pounds per year. Shrimp cost me around $6.50/pound for the 16-20's (a sizing reference, 16-20 shrimp in a pound) – so you do the math. Trawling for shrimp, like gillnets, hoopnets, longlining or fishing with dynamite, is an indiscriminate killer. Those that fall within its clinches don’t have much of a chance, becoming by-catch. By some estimates, shrimping in the Gulf affects 450 groups of organisms. An average haul consists of 67% finfish, 16% shrimp and 17% invertebrates. That equates to 4-8 pounds of fish that are killed to catch one pound of shrimp. If this was the Majors, the Shrimper’s would be getting bounced to the bush league, only batting .170. Most of this by-catch gets dumped back over the side; this I know first-hand because many fishermen take advantage of this buffet/chum line by drift fishing off the back of culling shrimp boats. The larger pelagic species also benefit, especially the King of the Gulf, the Dolphin. Unfortunately, there are no viable outlets for this by-catch, although both fertilizer and food seem to be logical choices.

Since 1995, the State of Texas has implemented an aggressive license buy-back program and (since January of this year) has bought back 1,978 licenses in an effort to control the ill effects of shrimping and bring it to a more manageable state. The mandatory use of TEDs (Turtle Exclusion Devices) and BRDs (Bycatch Reduction Devices) on trawlers has proven to work when used correctly. I think that those improvements, along with a focus on closures during growth periods to ensure spawning and eliminating bay and estuary shrimping, would ensure healthy stocks and a reduction in by-catch.

Now on to the food!

Recently, I bought about 25 Comals (cast iron Fajita platters) from this dude who was going out of business; ever since, I’ve been looking for an excuse to use them (#howadishisborn). Three weeks ago, I was drifting a gas well offshore, thinking back to my high school summer days, working in the gas fields in South Texas (Goliad, Yorktown, Weesatche, Victoria). The gas would come out of the ground at such a high pressure that it would sometimes cause icicles to form on the well head, even in 100 degree heat. So it had to cycle through a heater in order to warm it up, causing it to condensate and transform it into liquid form. A gin-clear fuel. The plate with the Shrimp and Pink Sea Bream “Salad” is placed on the ripping hot Comal, we pour Dashi on the Comal and then cover it with a dome, causing the Dashi to evaporate and then rain back down on the salad.

Warm Shrimp and Pink Sea Bream Salad, Peppers, Plums and Dashi Condensate

Chronicles of a Six-Foot-Four Texan in Aspen: The Food & Wine Classic

noreply@blogger.com (Whole Fish) — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 23:03:00 +0000

So, here I am, wine drunk standing at the bottom of a mountain range in Colorado. As I spin around, the sun in my eyes, I bump into some dude, so close, I can tell what he had for supper. “Excuse me, Sir,” I slurred. Everything comes back into focus and I can see again: Holy Shit! It’s Jose (Made in Spain) Andres. Quickly, I right the ship for a proper introduction; he has already begun to embrace me and congratulate me on my Best New Chef Award. I try to recover but the wind’s been knocked out of me and the only thing I can muster is, “Man, I love your stuff, you’re the shit!” Stupid. Oh well, hopefully the language barrier will work in my favor.

Meeting Jose Andres

As I travel, dine, fish, read, watch, purchase, ingest and dream, I find that those truly awe-inspiring, spine-tingling and fresh moments become fewer and harder to come by. But that is what this entire trip was: new. Like Senior year spring break for grown-up foodies. It was just plain cool.

Dana Cowin toasting the Best New Chefs, Class of 2009

(Before I go any further, some of these pictures might seem as if I had my own personal photographer following me around. Well, actually, I did. Thanks to Courtney Caswell, my semi-pro photographer sister. She treated the trip as a job, took it seriously, and I couldn’t be more appreciative. Thanks, Court!)

Courtney Caswell -- Thanks, Sis

When I hit the tarmac in Aspen, it was clear what my favorite thing was going to be -- the weather: clean, crisp, refreshing, like an ice-cold glass of sun tea. Surrounded by those towering mountains makes even the largest seem small. The first night there was very low-key, dinner with friends and gallons of water. Before I left and when I got there, everyone was telling me, “Drink lots of water or you’ll catch the altitude sickness.” I learned quickly: overeating, being over-served and hangovers all can easily be dismissed with a little, “No, I’m fine. Think it might be a little altitude sickness.”

The next day, we hit it hard -- full schedules, full bellies and full glasses. The whole event is highly structured from 9 am until 9 pm; then at10 pm, all hell breaks loose. There were two Grand Tastings each day with seminars and cooking demonstrations in between. I caught Jose Andres’ demo, where he cooked 10 courses using only quality canned ingredients -- white asparagus, white beans, tuna. He was the most entertaining of them all. Then there are the “Industry” seminars; Danny Meyer and Joe Bastianich talking about marrying creativity with commerce; Mario Batali, Drew Nieporent and Paul Kahan speaking about fostering home-grown talent. These were the guys, the icons of my industry. I soaked it up and pined like a 13-year-old girl at a Jonas Brothers concert. In the presence of greats like this, it’s impossible not to geek out.

photo by Allan Zepeda

Bill Floyd, Danny Meyer & Me

Another Grand Tasting and, before you know it, 10 pm rolls around. Private parties start popping up in private homes all around town, each sponsored by different big names and purveyors. The first of the night was Jose Andres (I know, sounds like I was stalking him), in a multi-level home in which each room had a different cooking and cocktail station. Next was Mario Batali, where he was giving away signed orange crocs to anyone interested (I lost out – finding a size 14 is always a problem). When I finally got a chance, I introduced myself to Mario, “Pleasure to meet you, I’m Bryan Caswell, from Houston, Texas.” (This was my standard introduction for the week, gotta represent!) He cocked his head, slicked back his hair and said, “Caswell, Caswell…Reef, right? Ya, man, I just read about you in Saveur. Dig that redfish thing.” Holy shit! Talk about being blown away.

Me & Mario

The next day, I’m back at the Grand Tasting, and I can feel it, I’m starting to hit my stride. It’s mid-day and Dana Cowin, Editor of Food & Wine Magazine, stops and asks me if I would be her video guinea pig. Well, don’t mind if I do. Next thing I know, I’m standing in line behind Tim Love, in between tents, waiting for my turn in front of the camera. Before I know it, I pop out four how-to spots: crispy skin fish; what makes a fish good for the grill; what makes a fish good for the sauté pan; and how to clean a soft-shell crab. All the while, Dana Cowin is standing next to me, out of camera range, coaching me along, giving me pointers. Wow! Super-cool.

My Coach, Dana Cowin

That night was the big publisher’s party on the mountain. We meet at the base, by the Little Nell, and ride the gondola to the top, where David Chang, Jacques Pepin and Mario Batali had just finished playing bacci ball. Outside, it was 40 degrees and the view was spectacular. Inside, the party was jumping -- insane cocktails and whole pig porchetta. The ride back down the mountain was remarkable. Being roped down, cloaked in darkness, with only the far-off lights of Aspen as our compass.

View from the Gondola

From Whole Pig to...

...Porchetta

Saturday night was our night to cook, so it was early to rise, and all of the Best New Chefs were banging it out in the kitchen for the dinner that night. Vinny and Jon (from Animal in L.A.) had lost their house-made Kimchi; when the box busted open in transit, and the folks at Fed-Ex smelled the sour waft, they figured it was rotten and trashed it. In the end, they ended up putting together a banging Pork Slider with the pork belly that had made the trip from L.A. in one piece.

a packed walk-in Vinny checking for salt

Paul (the Limey) Liebrandt from Corton in NYC was whipping up Uni (Sea Urchin) ice cream. Naomi Pomeroy from Beast in Portland -- the only girl of the group -- dropped the biggest cojones doing a charcuterie plate with Country Paté , Steak Tartare with quail egg toast and a Foie Gras Bon Bon. My two Southern brethren represented hardcore: Kelly English Iris from Memphis (Restaurant Iris) with Fried Boudin Balls and Linton Hopkins Eugene from Atlanta (Restaurant Eugene) was hitting it hard with Grilled Pimiento Cheese & Bacon Sandwiches. Christopher Kostow (my stud double) of Meadowood in Napa made a super-cool Roasted Corn Custard. Barry Madien of Hungry Mother in Cambridge put up a Smoked Trout Salad, Mark Fuller (Spring Hill in Seattle) made Columbia Sea Scallops and, rounding it out, Nate Appleman from A16 in San Francisco with Meatballs.

Check out Yum Sugar’s post for more details and pictures of the event, food and chefs.

Me, I kept it simple, with Reef’s signature Crab Cocktail shots. My secret weapon in the deal was my service staff, boy can that girl sell!

My Secret Weapon: K-Dog (aka Kennedy Caswell)

Another late night and, once again, I was over-served, damn that bartender. I mean, I was so tore up I actually thought I saw Tom Colicchio and Joe Bastianich downstairs jamming 80’s tunes.

For Real...

So I skipped Sunday morning and opened my eyes after lunch just in time to join my fellow chefs for a white water rafting trip on the Roaring Fork River (Thanks Blazing Adventures!)

Raft Full of Chefs....

New, fresh and different -- every bit of it -- and I have decided that I won’t miss another Food & Wine Classic any time soon. And I suggest the same for any of you who live to eat and drink. Let me know and I’ll meet you there next year.

More Photos:

On top of the mountain with Gail Simmons

First things first, I need a glass

Me and Ming Sai

Me and Reef's Sous Chef, Heather Deason

Sunday Pay Dirt: Two Chefs Fishing

noreply@blogger.com (Whole Fish) — Sun, 05 Jul 2009 03:44:00 +0000

Luna & Caz

Last Sunday was a benchmark day for me and my three-man crew: James Cheramie, Dan Lantini (from Barstool Magazine) and Chef David Luna from Shade.

Lantini Working the Bow

Cheramie with Bull Red

Seas were 1 to 2 feet (see swell height ), blue water was in close and weed lines were forming just five miles off the beach head. In every direction you looked, the entire Gulf was alive, teeming with massive bait pods, Gulls and Terns pounding the water’s surface, thrashing Spanish Mackerel, bruiser Kingfish and Cobia!

Within five minutes of rolling up to the first rig, the anchor hadn’t even caught, and Dan was hollerin’ almost as loud as his Ambassador 7000 was screaming, “I’m on, baby!” It was that quick: four Kingfish in the boat before I could even wet a line. And that’s the way it was for about one and a half hours.

Luna with Kingfish

Then I noticed something: on the Southeast corner of the rig, a beautiful and wondrous sight -- nervous water. Large bait pods of Atlantic Bumper and Spanish Sardine huddled ever-so-close to the rig’s pylons, nervous as Tom Turkey in Dog Town.

Searching for Nervous Water

Keeping a close eye on it, I knew it was no lie, something had ‘em spooked. And then it happened…BAM! The surface erupted -- murder and mayhem, scales and hard tails flying in random directions. They scattered hard, then regrouped even tighter than the rush hour crowd on the 6 train. Then BAM!, again. Ooohh, son! Something big was methodically working the edges. This was no Mackerel, this big guy had shoulders and was throwing his weight around.

I was about to come out of my skin with anticipation. Repositioning the boat, I palmed that baby up to the edge of the ruckus. Dan chunked a frozen sardine on a float and, almost instantly, a massive shadow emerged from the rig pilings, rushing Dan’s bait but stopping inches short, turning up his nose at the frozen offering. Sure enough, it was a big-ass Cobia. As quick as I could, I snatched up my live bait rig, single hook and 80 pound mono leader (make no mistake, I might be big and a bit clumsy, but at moments like these, you sometimes only get one shot -- clarity is key and, baby, I’m a killer). I grabbed one of the live Spanish Sardine that I caught earlier jigging Sabiki and pitched it lightly, landing it just shy of Dan’s float. The Cobia charges the frantic Sardine, mouths it, spits it, circles, takes a dramatic pause, then hits it like a Tyson right cross, inhaling the bait and then taking off like a champagne cork. It was on! A rush of adrenaline blasted through my veins as this 40-plus pound monster manhandled me from port to starboard, making me doubt what I’ve come to believe: my knots, my drag, this crew, my religion. I started coaching Luna on his gaff technique, as if he grew up in Montana, spewing anxious, incoherent chatter that gets me a stern look from him and he finally says, “Dude, I got it.” Then, the giant hits the deck – pay dirt, baby! I really should give lessons.

This was the kind of day that sticks with you, like a Rueben at 2nd Ave Deli, weighing you down, swelling your thoughts of the next trip. And I’ve been obsessing ever since.

Stealth Attack: Tripletail

noreply@blogger.com (Whole Fish) — Wed, 17 Jun 2009 12:20:00 +0000

Tripletail

West Matagorda has always been my fishing home base. One of the unique things about this bay is the large number of inshore gas platforms that offer great surface structure in an otherwise structure-less bay. Each rig reaches 12 feet down to the bottom of the bay and has become a reef of sorts; the large oyster shell pads that were built on the bottom to reinforce the platform, although man-made initially, have become alive over the years, creating an eco-chain of life out in the middle of the bay. They are also the reason why West Matagorda Bay is the Tripletail capital of Texas.

Tripletail (aka Black fish, Drift Fish or Buoy Fish [Lobotes surnamensis]) gets its name because the second dorsal and anal fins that extend far back on the body make it look like it has three tails. Although it is the only representative of the Lobotes family in the Gulf, many wrongly believe it is related to the Cichlid family because of its striking resemblance to the fresh water “Sac-a-lait” or Crappie. Tripletail is a surface fish that hangs out next to any kind of top water structure like platforms, sargassum, buoys and flotsam and jetsam. I caught this one last week off of a large piece of driftwood about one and half miles offshore of the Galveston jetty.

That's me with a Tripletail

A Tripletail will lie on its side, as if it was part of whatever floating material it’s hiding in; floating and moving with the current and waves like a large leaf, it even has the ability to change its color, like a chameleon. Years back, most people would steer clear of Tripletail as table fare thinking that these characteristics meant that the fish was sick. But it’s not sick, it’s smart: it lays in wait, ready to spring on its prey. When it attacks, it rushes, swimming on its side just like a flounder. But once it is hooked, it rights itself, turns that broad body and uses it against you. They are infamous as tough fighters that will frequently return to their former hiding spot, wrapping you around the seaweed or driftwood or whatever they were using as cover, and breaking your line. Tripletail feed mostly on menhaden, herring, anchovies and some crustaceans and live in subtropical and tropical coastal regions and estuaries from Massachusetts to Argentina. Rarely traveling in groups of more than three, they reach sexual maturity in just a year, making it an easily sustainable and recovery species. When large enough, they yield a wonderfully flaky white fish reminiscent of a giant speckled trout or weakfish. Although difficult to cook on the grill, they are excellent on the flat top or in a sauté pan.

Roasted Tripletail, Smoked Dr. Pepper Glaze, Buttered Bok Choy, Grapefruit Soda

Heavyweight Battle: Young Ryan vs. The Black Tip Shark

noreply@blogger.com (Whole Fish) — Fri, 12 Jun 2009 13:44:00 +0000

The first day of Snapper season was a good one but the story of the day belonged to 13-year-old Ryan Smith.

Ryan with snapper and father Cameron

When we reached our Snapper quota, our focus shifted to Kings and Cobia. We had already landed a couple of Sand Sharks, a Bonnet Head and busted off on a pretty big Cobia when one of the reels began to scream. Ryan quickly grabbed the rod, flipped the bail and set the hook, but this big boy wasn’t turning. He kept peeling off line like a freight train and wouldn’t stop. Quickly, John cut us loose from the rig, I fired up the engines and tried to give young Ryan a bit of help. Ryan had been putting the screws to this hoss for about an hour before we even caught our first glimpse of him: it was a Black Tip Shark and Lord was he big -- between 6 and 7 feet, a true monster tipping the scales at about 150 pounds. A good match for Ryan, who weighs about the same.

Ryan Doing Battle

My friends, I must tell you, the fight that Ryan put on that fish was of epic, Hemingway proportions. This young man was truly a sight to see: his hands were cut up and burned, back aching and the butt of the rod had started to wear a hole in his gut, but he refused to give up. One and a half hours after our first hook up, we got the first pass on the monster and we all took our stations, ready to do battle. Once close enough, I went in hard for the gaff and, as soon as I made contact, the shark flipped and dove hard, leaving my brand new gaff in shambles, bending the metal shaft straight as an arrow. He made a second and third pass and, on the third, he thrashed, spun on the leader and cut the line. I wish you could have seen this one but unfortunately, when the bite is really on, everyone picks up the rod not the camera.

Two hours had passed and, as we watched that monster slowly swim off, I wanted to cry. I looked over at Ryan -- he didn’t say a word, just set the rod down, walked to the front of the boat, lay down and passed out, exhausted. It was an inspirational fight.

Therapy: You Say Shrink, I Say Whaler

noreply@blogger.com (Whole Fish) — Thu, 04 Jun 2009 11:35:00 +0000

Like many Houstonians, I lost a lot to Ike but none as painful to me as the loss of my 22.5 foot Marshall. It wasn’t so much the boat itself as the peace of mind that going out gave me – it was a kind of therapy for me. That boat kept me on an even keel in my life on land.

In my family, we traditionally greet each Hurricane headed our way with a party, making the rounds to one or two houses in our neighborhood to have cocktails before the big storm hits. Last year, the hours before Ike were no different: drinks at the McLemore’s, then it was off to batten down the hatches at home and ride out the storm. I was rounding third with my Turkey & Soda when I glanced at the T.V. and saw the thick black smoke bellowing from a coastal building in Galveston. My heart sank to my stomach – is that the dry storage at the yacht basin? It sure did look like it.

And it was.

Heartbroken I was, she wasn’t even a year old. Earlier in the year, my brother Mike and I bought the boat together from Norman Marshall of Marshall Marine out of Port Lavaca, TX - they craft one hell of a boat.

Last summer, I fished more than I have in about 15 years. I enjoyed the hell out of that Marshall. But, thanks to Ike, I haven’t been out for almost 8 months - the longest I’ve ever gone without a trip.

I have been running boats since I was 8 years old. When I detach from the shoreline, it’s as if the cord that tethers me to everything else has been cut and I run only local channels: no calls, no emails, no texts and no more everyday problems. It’s just clear, pure thought - freedom for just a while, true serenity, a bit of peace. There’s nothing but me, the crew and our mission.

Here are a few pictures from last summer’s excursions:

Heaven on Water, 2008

It has taken me some time, but we have commissioned a new vessel, as yet to be named but definitely seaworthy: the legendary, unsinkable Boston Whaler.

Boston Whaler

At a solid 26 feet, she’s a big ‘un! My largest ever, technically a yacht (this is the classification for a boat that breaches 25 feet), this boat breaks new ground for me -- now the fabled Flower Gardens, Boomvang, Tequila rig and The Claypiles, all 50-100 miles offshore, are within my grasp (all of these are underwater goldmines for fishermen).

After two prior failed attempts due to small mechanical difficulties, Monday, June 1st marked the Whaler’s maiden voyage offshore, to the tune of about 25 miles. With my buddies -- Farrar, Cameron Smith and his 13-year-old son, Ryan -- we headed out for the opening day of Snapper season. If it’s Duck, Dove, Deer or Snapper, for a guy like me, opening day is always mandatory attendance.

This year, I’m pretty sure I’m going to need a lot of therapy.

Farrar & me, double hookup

Here's to many tight lines for my brother and I in the future!!

Salt Rules…Cooking and Fishing

noreply@blogger.com (Whole Fish) — Wed, 20 May 2009 00:18:00 +0000

Salt Dome reef, teeming with sea life (Flower Gardens Creole Fish)

There are so many reasons why I love salt. Without a doubt, it is the most important of culinary ingredients. The value of salt truly knows no bounds, but did you know that salt is also responsible for some of the most exciting and productive fishing grounds in the Gulf Coast?

Well, salt domes to be specific. A salt dome is a vertical cylinder of salt that starts out below the Earth’s surface but, because the density of salt is less than that of most other sediments & minerals, pushes up towards the surface with a big, bulging dome or cap rock on top. It’s hard for me to comprehend but salt will actually flow upward through these sediments and rather quickly (in geological time, anyway).

Seismic grap of salt dome / 3D digital rendering of salt dome

Sources: www.tsunamidevelopment.com / www.gocad.ensg.inpl-nancy.fr

If you have ever heard of salt domes it was probably in relation to oil. The Spindletop “discovery” in Beaumont was where oil was first found in the uplifted sediments around a salt dome. Salt domes are good indicators of where oil and natural gas may be found because, as the salt pushes its way through the rock toward the surface, the salt can crack the rock (creating faulting) so that oil and gas deposits get trapped and accumulate. Salt domes are also used for salt and mineral mining and to create bases used in the production of other chemicals (like chlorine); and, it turns out, they make excellent, leak-proof storage containers for all sorts of things (from oil to hazardous waste).

That’s all great, but my undying affection for salt domes comes from other reasons.

One reason is the Flower Gardens, probably the coolest thing that exists in the Gulf of Mexico: a live coral reef located 110 miles South of the Texas-Louisiana border that has formed on top of an underlying salt dome, basically out in the middle of nowhere. Discovered in the 1900’s by Snapper fishermen, it was named the Flower Gardens because of the brightly colored sponges, corals and algae that got snagged on their lines.

The Flower Gardens is the northernmost coral reef in the United States and consists of three main sections: East Flower Garden, West Flower Garden and Stetson Bank (which is 30 miles closer to shore). These three separate zones support an amazing sea life community of Loggerhead, Leatherback and Hawksbill Sea Turtles (all endangered) and serves as a nursery for juvenile Manta Rays. In total, The Flower Gardens support 21 species of coral, 175 species of fish, 250 species of macro-invertebrates and 80 species of algae. Designated as a national sanctuary in 1992, some recreational and commercial fishing is allowed (no spear-fishing or long-lining) but scuba diving is the main attraction here.

Flower Gardens: Bright Bank / Warsaw Grouper

Flower Gardens Manta Ray

And the other reason is Sackett Bank.

The Sackett Bank, better known as The Midnight Lump, is a natural salt dome that rises from 400 feet below to about 200 feet above the water’s surface and covers almost a square mile. Heavy currents from the shotgun waterway, The Mississippi (thank you Corps of Engineers), cause huge upwellings, attracting the bait that brings the big fish, making this the go-to place for Yellowfin tuna, Wahoo, Billfish and many other species. The Midnight Lump (or just “the Lump,” as most call it) lies about 16 miles Southwest of the Mississippi Delta’s Southwestern pass, just south of Venice, the river’s last populated port. It was named Midnight Lump because, in order to hit the mother lode of Red Snapper that congregated at the bottom of the dome, you had to fish it at midnight to sneak baits past the hordes of Kingfish and Bonita that swim the waters above the Snapper.

Map of Sackett Bank (aka Midnight Lump)

The Lump might be slightly out of my range but not the Flower Gardens. This summer, “gardening” is high on my list of priorities. I’ll be working on my green thumb, baby!

Flower Gardens Photos: http://flowergarden.noaa.gov/

Tough Choices: Does Friendship Weigh More than a Big Ass Cobia?

noreply@blogger.com (Whole Fish) — Fri, 08 May 2009 02:56:00 +0000

Cobia

I nearly lost a good friend over a 50-pound Cobia and that’s no joke.

It was my first trip out with my buddy, Scott McLemore, on his boat, the Julie-Ann. We were about 60 miles offshore, Snapper fishing mainly, but I had been chumming religiously all day, free-lining two Ribbonfish rigs in hopes of tight lines. We had already hooked up with one small Kingfish when I looked up and saw a monster Cobia explode on the water’s surface and turn on the bait. These are the moments I live for, intense adrenaline running through my veins as the drag begins to squeal and line spools out so fast that, if not careful, it will burn right through your finger. I shot up, set the hook and immediately turned to Scott and started screaming, “I Got Him!” Scott was already right next to me with open arms waiting for the rod. (Offshore 101: it takes 3-4 people to work a big boat while offshore, so etiquette states that each man takes his turn at the rod, especially while fishing for the larger pelagic since they usually only strike in singles and it is a collective effort for that tight line.) By the look on Scott’s face, it was obvious that he figured it was his turn. I looked down at the rod, back up to Scott’s face and back down to the rod once again, weighing our friendship against the odds of experiencing such a monster in the future. For a split second, I hesitated and thought about keeping the fish. I mean, when will I ever get a chance to land a 50-pound Cobia? (I still haven’t, by the way.) Well, I chose to keep the friend over the fish.

Scott and I with that Big-Ass Cobia

Lemon Fish, Crab Eater, Ling, Sergent Fish, Cobia (Rachycentridae Canadum) -- these are all names for one of the most sought-after game fish in the Gulf, prized most likely because of its propensity for swimming close to shore and its tenacity as a fighter. Land a Cobia and you’re sure to have a story to tell back home During the summer months, you can see boats cruising the beachfront from Florida to Texas with spotters standing at the highest point, searching. Lord knows I burned plenty of gas trying to track them down myself. Cobia have flat heads and a distinctly shark-like appearance while swimming; they average 3-7 feet long and 20-30 pounds (although the world record weight for one is 135 pounds). A Pelagic fish, they are the only member of the Rachycentridae family and are found world-wide in warm waters (but are most populous in the Gulf of Mexico). Cobia have an extremely fast growth rate which has made them perfect candidates for open ocean aquaculture.

Aquaculture

While at the Boston Seafood show, I saw an open aquaculture vendor calling them “Black Salmon” – kind of a stretch. They are mostly found congregating in twos and threes around reefs, buoys, pilings, wreckage and anchored boats and will follow larger animals like sharks, turtles and manta rays looking for table scraps. Their diet consists mainly of crustaceans, hence the name Crab Eater.

Cobia flesh has a steak-like quality, similar to Swordfish but with a higher fat content and fuller flavor, which makes it perfect for grilling as well as sashimi. If cooking on the grill, take special care not to cook it past medium, as it will get very dry if overcooked.

Grilled Cobia, Plantain and Long-Bean Sauté, Pickled Plum Jus

One Sexy Cephalopod

noreply@blogger.com (Whole Fish) — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 02:53:00 +0000

It goes without saying that new things in food are always exciting. But what about re-newed things? When I was young, growing up here in Houston, I vividly remember the beat up old Dodge van with the word SHRIMP (written in block letters with black duct tape) that used to cruise through our neighborhood on Sunday afternoons, randomly hittin' the horn, selling fresh, never frozen, head-on Gulf Shrimp. Those days are long gone. Now, I have to drive down to Palacios and call up my buddy, T-Roy, to get close to that experience.

Well, just last week, something just as fabulous as those remembered shrimp came to me at REEF: Fresh Baby Gulf Coast Squid.

Squid in my hand

I am (almost) embarrassed to admit how turned on I was by these little beauties.
Is it wrong to be stirred in such a way by such a thing? Well, if it is, then I don’t wanna be right.

There are many varieties of squid that make the Gulf their home. But this particular guy -the Atlantic Brief Squid (Lolliguncula brevis) - is very common in the Texas Bays. They rarely grow longer than 3 inches in tube length.

There are many different types of squid species in the littoral zone but very few inhabit the brackish Gulf waters.

The Atlantic Brief Squid’s habitat ranges from Maryland to Rio de la Plata, Argentina. They feed mainly on grass shrimp and small fishes. Its round fins make it less streamlined than most squid, but its most unique feature is that it is an osmoconformer (a sexy word if I ever heard one), which means its body salinity matches the ambient water salinity. This might seem unimportant to you, but when I learned this, my stomach quickly pointed out that harvesting these squid in saltier water is guaranteed to yield a sweeter, brinier morsel (similar to the results of timely oyster harvests). Note to self: I think I just found another use for my refractometer.

Squid with Texas quarter

For the foragers out there like me, cast-netting on the Bay side in The Galveston and Matagorda estuaries on a hot summer night can be very fruitful, indeed.

Crispy Texas Squid, Grilled Green Tomatoes, Cilantro-Shiso Aioli, Pickled Pepper Puree

Special Thanks to Alex Rappaport

Back on the island, post IKE

noreply@blogger.com (Whole Fish) — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 10:56:00 +0000

It was my first time back on the island. My first time since last summer, since those seven days without power at REEF, since I painfully tossed $10,000 worth of food in the dumpster, since my newly purchased boat melted in a raging fire at the Yacht Basin. It was my first time on Galveston Island since Ike.

I settled into my not-so-familiar-anymore routine, trying to close out those last few tables after a busy Saturday night at REEF, fighting to concentrate as my mind already starts to wander coastal. One last stop at Little Big’s to check on things, then home to load The Dude and my gear and I’m off. Windows down, music up, unconsciously on edge, waiting for that first sniff, that first scent of saltwater. And when it hits me, I am conscious of the edge, edging away.

On the road, heading South

That's The Dude: he knows how to relax

At my folks’ place with my family and we decide to take a day trip to Bolivar. I had heard that Stingaree on the Intercoastal Canal had just opened back up. Driving from the West end of the Island, the damage from Ike was still evident, everywhere: boats blown aground, sides of homes ripped open, wayward cars that the storm relocated, still standing proud.

Galveston home, post-Ike

Chevy on pier

Water Line

Waiting in line at the ferry conjured vivid childhood memories of me with my Pops at four o’clock in the morning, Dr. Pepper in one hand and Honey Bun in the other, nestled in his maroon Delta 88, waiting to cross and enter Los Patos, our duck club. We were pretty mad at those ducks back then.

A trip on the Boliver ferry is one of the best day trips from Houston: forty minutes from town and a free boat ride to a soon-to-be-again pristine Texas coastal beach and marshland. It doesn’t get much better than that. It was my daughter’s first ferry ride so she was wide-eyed and excited; I easily played the hero, knowing it wouldn’t be this easy for much longer.

Kennedy's first Ferry ride

Once we crossed, everything changed. There was shit everywhere. I was overwhelmed by so much wreckage and disorder. Chaos theory, the fragility of our lives, people missing homes, children missing toys – my mind and heart were reeling. There were hills of sand on both sides of the street, where the ‘dozers had scraped clear a path on the road. I had seen the TV and You-Tube footage, but seeing it with my own eyes was staggering. It was incredible and hard to take in. I just couldn’t get my head around it.

Wrecked dreams

As we came closer to Crystal Beach, I had mounting doubts about whether or not the rumors were true; how could Stingaree possibly have opened in the midst of this lifeless devastation? But, sure enough, there it was . . . pretty as a picture. After eating my weight in oysters and drinking six pitchers of Stingaritas (hey, I had help!), everything seemed much better.

Oysters at Stingaree

Still Beauty...

Photos Courtesy Courtney Caswell

Blackfin Tuna: The Bastard Son Makes Good (Bacon)

noreply@blogger.com (Whole Fish) — Thu, 09 Apr 2009 16:31:00 +0000

Blackfin Tuna

Usually, when the subject of Tuna comes up, you will hear grandiose talk of the superstars Bluefin, Yellowfin, Albacore, Big-Eye or, if you are one of the lucky ones, Toro. No one hardly ever talks about this black sheep of the family, Blackfin – could it be its smaller stature, or that it often gets confused with Bonito or that its sheer numbers and tenacity make it a real pest when trying to snag its larger cousins. If you’ve ever been offshore in a Tuna feeding frenzy, under the lights, you know what I mean. When the heat is on and time is of the essence, a 150 pound Yellowfin is always preferred to a 15 pound Blackfin, at least to your regular sports fisherman (guess I’m not such a regular guy after all).

Blackfin Tuna (Thunnus Atlanticus), also known as Bermuda Tuna, Blackfinned Albacore and Football, is a member of the Scombridae family. They range in size from 2 – 20 pounds with the largest catch on record being 45 pounds. There is some commercial interest in this fish worldwide, but virtually none in the Atlantic and Gulf regions. Blackfin are a Pelagic Species found in warmer tropical waters from Brazil to Cape Cod in large schools, usually around other tunas. They eat less fish than other members of the Tuna family and more shrimp, crab and squid, but they are one of the fastest growing tunas and reach sexual maturity in less than two years. A five-year-old Blackfin is considered old. Because of its ability to procreate quickly and its rapid growth, I see no reason why this fish is overlooked as a viable commercial harvest or a potential candidate for open ocean aquaculture. Mahi-Mahi has this same quality.

Now for the BACON!

“How did you ever come up with that?’ is a common question that just about every chef gets asked. Depending on the dish, I can usually spin a good yarn about where the dish came from: my ancestors, a muse, seasonality or divine providence. But, in the case of the Blackfin Tuna bacon, the back story is straightforward and as old as the hills: it was straight necessity, the mother kind. Last fall at REEF, we were getting a large amount of Blackfin. After butchering, two or three of those sweet little medallions made a beautiful meal. The only problem was that the last third of the loin was just too thin to use. What to do? What could I do! I did what every other red-blooded Texan would do…make Bacon!

Blackfin Tuna Bacon, Firefish, Apples, Avocado, White Soy and Miso

Louisiana Convict Fish – Falsely Accused

noreply@blogger.com (Whole Fish) — Wed, 01 Apr 2009 14:03:00 +0000

Sheepshead - Convicted, But Not Guilty

If you were in the Houston area in the late 80’s and 90’s, you may remember the “Bay Snapper” scandal. So called because some restaurants were using Sheepshead in place of Red Snapper and had given it the new, more marketable name of “Bay Snapper” (in the same way that Patagonian Toothfish was renamed Chilean Sea Bass). People were outraged – This was fraud! How could they misrepresent and impersonate our noble Red Snapper? Actually, I think the Sheepshead is the one who got the bad rap. Don’t get me wrong, I love Red Snapper, with its clear, slightly opaque flesh and amazing versatility, but in terms of depth of flavor, give me “Bay Snapper” anytime.

Whatever you call it -- Sheepshead, Lousiana Convict Fish or Bay Snapper (Archosargus Probatocephalus) -- this fish is actually a proud member of the Sea Bream family. Other family members you’ll find in the Gulf are Pink and Silver Bream and the Jolthead (Knobbed and Red Porgy). Sheepshead hail from the Mid-Atlantic down to South Texas and live in the bays and estuaries around rocky outcroppings, oyster reefs and any type of piling structure. Although they are not a true migratory species, Sheepshead do head for the deeper waters offshore during winter months and return as the water warms in the late winter and early spring months to congregate near shore (where it is believed that spawning takes place). It is during these months, right now (lucky us!), that Sheepshead are commercially available.

It is not hard to figure out how this fish got its moniker. Feeding on a diet of mainly crustaceans, bivalves and mollusks, they have a mean set of choppers: sharp incisors in the front and grinding molars in the back. I believe that their diet gives them their firm, wonderful flesh reminiscent of shellfish. The flesh is great for almost any hot application, standing up well to the grill and also to slow poaching.

Now, That's a Set of Choppers

As a fisherman, you have got to really want this fish. They are the epitome of frustration, especially when fishing in deeper waters. Their capable teeth will pick your pocket clean in a heartbeat. Only in the flats, when they are running those grass and sand pockets, can you get them to commit fully to your bait. Once in the box, the hard work has just begun - killer sharp spines, crazy tough scales and a rib cage like a Rubik’s cube bring new meaning to the words patience and virtue.

But rehabilitated, this ex-con will bring you a toothy smile once it hits the plate.

Searching for Cellar Temperature in H-Town

noreply@blogger.com (Whole Fish) — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 12:56:00 +0000

View from inside Reef's Wine Cellar into the dining room

I’m sure you’ve noticed that there are virtually no basements in Houston; being just 40 feet above sea level ensures that there are very few. So many of our beloved foods and beverages are created, aged and thrive in that zone of 55°-57° Fahrenheit with 60% relative humidity: red and white wine, beer, all forms of sausages, hams and charcuterie, cheeses and vinegar. This combination of the right temperature and humidity provides the optimal sweet spot for these items to properly age and mature until the time comes for you to reach that final objective, consumption. To re-create this ideal environment above ground calls for a little creativity. It is surprisingly simple to convert an old refrigerator into a “cellar;” all you need is an external thermostat, a hemostat and a small, inexpensive humidifier from Target. I just made one from a very old prep cooler to store our wines at Little Bigs Montrose. The light blue control pad with the temperature reading sits right next to the cashier. This particular unit is pretty damn amazing. You can set it at temperature variables between X and Y and, within those variables select run times so that your compressor won’t overwork itself by repeatedly kicking itself on and off too quickly. You might be asking yourself why we would need to maintain cellar temp wines in a burger joint. And I say, WTF not? I get a kick out of it and if you’re gonna be a bear, be a grizzly!

Remote Temperature Control at Little Bigs Montrose

All the equipment you need can easily be picked up at a place called Allied Kenco. If you are even just slightly obsessed with charcuterie, this place is a mandatory stop. Cody is the man to see over there and, for the past five years, he has helped satisfy my fixation for these types of things.

Luckily, at Reef, there is no need to convert old kitchen equipment since I already have a real “cellar.”

View into Reef's Wine Cellar from Table 4

Since Reef opened, I have been jones-ing to use this room for something other than wine. But hanging whole joints of meat next to my beloved Innocent Bystander (all the while staring into the eyes of a starry-eyed young couple enjoying a romantic dinner at Table 4) is just not an option. So, I’ve been waiting for just the right opportunity to age something in full view of the dining room.

We have been making our own pepper vinegar at Reef since day one, using it in vinaigrettes, pickling liquids and finishing sauces. You will always see a bottle of it right next to me up at the expediting “pass.” We use a fresh Thai pepper called a Dragon Finger (aka Harlingen Red).

Dragon Finger Chilis

I have always thought, “If I could just get my hands on an Oak barrel to age this vinegar... .” Well, look what showed up on our doorstep.

Oak barrel brought to us by our good friends at Quintessa Winery

As we speak, I’ve got a guy building a cradle to hold the barrel so we can store it at the end of the wine room.

A local farmer who grows for us -- Stacey Roussel from All We Need Organics – has done a great job growing these peppers. Once she hits the generous glut of the season, we are going to fire that sucker up and see where we’re at.

I’ll let you know how our aged pepper vinegar turns out in 2010.

Chronicles of a Six-Foot-Four Texan in Boston: St. Paddy’s Weekend vs. The International Boston Seafood Show

noreply@blogger.com (Whole Fish) — Fri, 20 Mar 2009 02:49:00 +0000

28th Annual International Boston Seafood Show

At the beginning of this week, I was fortunate enough to attend the 28th Annual International Boston Seafood show -- and on St. Paddy’s Day weekend no less! This year, there were over 52 countries represented, Iron Chef Masaharu Morimoto as keynote speaker, 6,114 exhibitors and an estimated 17,231 conventioneers attending. Let me tell you, for a guy like me, it was complete sensory overload. I was like a fevered maniac all three days. With more information and booths than it is humanly possible to absorb, I was like a shopaholic during a Walmart Blue Light special, screaming through exhibits, trying to do my best impersonation of a sponge, spurred on by the knowledge that around each corner there would be yet another new thing/fish/product/machine that pertains 100% to my daily obsession. It was an orgasmic and yet futile endeavor to try to take it all in. All of this set in the heart of Historic Boston. And with over 1,000 Irish bars in the surrounding Boston area…obviously, I was a busy boy. And did I mention it was St. Paddy’s Day Weekend?

28th Annual International Boston Seafood Show

The most interesting booths were the ones with the products from Asia. What made them so damn interesting was the sheer number of items that were new to me. That and the aggressiveness of their salesmen (actually women, mostly), leading with samples and politely insisting on the superiority of their product. Folks, this may sound like a stretch but, during those three days, I ate my weight in sushi, no bullshit! At least 20 pounds of Hamachi passed through my gullet; and I’m not just talking about regular old stuff, I’m talking about new, different and special types like Rookfish, Bluenose, Sun Mackrel, some kind of red tilefish and many more.

Japanese fish

There was even a table where Morimoto had his crew laying it down.

Morimoto crew

The Japanese dried products were fascinating, especially these crispy whole crabs with some sort of glaze. They had the mouth feel of potato soufflé, straight up addictive.

Crab poppers

At the same booth, this dude had what looked like a hot griddle press on which he would place a tiny dried shrimp or sprinkle dried baby anchovies, hit the press and out would pop a chip. Seriously. It took me back to those days when I would cruise my neighborhood on my black, banana seat Huffy and, turning the corner, saw the new kid on a brand new BMX Super-Goose…

I want one!

Chip press

On the other end of the aisle, a guy from the Midwest was selling nothing but what most would consider trash fish: Shoepeg, Gaspergoo, Buffalo, Carp and Flat Head Catfish.

Gaspergoo

On day two, they held the national Oyster Shucking Contest where three-time champion, and the current world champ title holder, William “Chopper” Young took the gold home once again. He had an unusual technique and tool: his knife was about 2 ½ inches long and resembled a prison shank and he attacked the oyster from the side. This guy was all business.

Oyster shuck

I was equally as intrigued with the equipment side of the show. There were space-aged coolers, vacuum machines large enough to package a man, “green” packaging solutions, non-stick flooring and totes for shipping live fish.

Live Fish Tote

There were all kinds of amazing instruments for monitoring and evaluating environmental conditions like 10-mile remote thermostats and hemostasts, refractometers that calculate Brix (sugar content) and blood-protein content and my new favorite toy, a salinometer.

Salinometer

You should have seen the looks I got at the three different oyster bars that night when I pulled that sucker out to gauge the salt content of each different oyster we sampled. Geeky I know, but what the hell …I’m a 6’4” Texan obsessed with fish, rollin’ strong in Bean-Town on St. Paddy’s Day weekend. I’m pretty sure I pulled it off.

The Great Golden Tilefish: The Story of Brian Brennan and My First Step Towards Reef

noreply@blogger.com (Whole Fish) — Fri, 13 Mar 2009 01:44:00 +0000

Golden Tilefish

About four years ago, while cooking at Bank in the Hotel Icon, a guy named Brian Brennan started working at Airline Seafood. We sat down and I gave him the same spiel I had given every other fishmonger since I returned to Houston: I wanted different, local, whole fish -- I wanted the fish that I had seen, caught and eaten as a fisherman and citizen of the Gulf Coast. After about 45 minutes of me getting all fired up on the subject and wading though my wish list of fish, Brian popped his head up and said (in his coastal country drawl), “Okay, dude, I gotcha.” Okay? Really? I was speechless, because every other guy in the business came up with beaucoup reasons why it just wasn’t possible but, as far as Brian was concerned, OK was all that was needed.

At the time, I had no idea that Brian had spent most of his natural-born life off of FM 2004. (FM=Farm to Market road, yet another wonderfully unique Texas thing). FM 2004 is that bayou-riddled stretch of a back-road-avenue connecting Freeport with Galveston. I also had no idea that he had spent the past 7-8 years driving up and down the Gulf Coast buying and selling fish. He knew these captains well; hell, he ate Sunday dinner with half of them.

Two to three weeks later, Brian shows up, sporting that big shit-eatin’ grin of his and hauling a whole mess of Golden Tilefish. When they hit the table, I looked him straight up and said, “Brian, I asked you for local! Not shipped, man, local.” He started to explain to me about the deep water shelf that comes closest to Matagorda (the town, not the bay), where the Colorado River dumps out, about 60 miles out from the shore, and the ocean depth starts to drop quickly along with the water temperature – perfect for fish like Golden Tilefish, that I would typically get from the East Coast. He told me how these Golden Tilefish were there, along with many other species that most boats don’t fish for, or even keep if caught, because there are no buyers back at the dock. I couldn’t believe it. I think I might have even called him a liar (sorry about that B). But I did some of my own research and it turns out the Brian was right -- amazing!

The body style of the Golden Tilefish is unique to the Gulf

Golden Tilefish are from the Malacanthidae family. They are very easy to distinguish among other members of this family because of the large wattle-like adipose flap on the top of their head. Found in waters ranging between 250-1500 feet deep all along the Continental shelf and slope. Their habitat extends from Nova Scotia down to south of Venezuela. The flesh is extremely flaky, lean when cooked and, because of the very low fat content, does not lend itself very well for grilled applications and can become extremely dry when overcooked (slower cooking and or medium temp is highly recommended).

Being able to acquire these types of cherry Gulf fish is what spurred the whole idea of Reef. This may sound like a stretch but, initially, it was the work of Brian and Steve Berreth at Airline that gave me the confidence to open a place like Reef -- confidence that, if I was to write the check, “Local Gulf Seafood,” payment would come back in more than just Snapper, Shrimp & Crab.

There is an old fishing adage that goes like this: an impatient man runs over more fish than he catches on his way to greener pastures. I had been doing that very thing for years. Brian got out of the fish business about two years later but, before he left, he kept me in a steady stream of Golden Tilefish, Trigger Fish, Triple Tail, Croaker, Cobia, Amberjack and many other hard to acquire Gulf species. Airline Seafood’s Steve Berreth and Mark Musatto (my former Executive Sous Chef at Bank) have been able to continue what Brian started with great catches for Reef.

Golden Tilefish

F and B Offspring

noreply@blogger.com (Whole Fish) — Thu, 05 Mar 2009 22:19:00 +0000

Raising a child and a restaurant at the same time really is not normal. The 16 or 17-hour days and time spent with my restaurant family and customers means a lot of missed events (parties, socials, parent/teacher conferences, family get-togethers, anything on Fridays or Saturdays). My daughter, Kennedy Gayle, is now four years old; and Reef is now creeping up on two years.

Most of Kennedy’s life (well, what she remembers) and time spent with me is in some way connected to Reef. Imagine growing up not knowing any social barriers or fear of interacting with the unknown in a communal setting, that’s Kennedy. She navigates through the dining room, into the kitchen (she knows exactly where Maria keeps the fresh-baked rolls), then across the line – yelling, “Behind you!” as she walks through to say her hellos to all of the cooks-- and back out through the bar to the hostess stand where she begs Mary to let her seat a table (she has already mastered the table numbers). Believe it or not, this can and does happen at 8:30 on a Saturday night.

One of my favorite stories to tell about Kennedy happened two weeks after we opened Reef. Kennedy automatically assumed that everyone coming to the restaurant was a personal friend and she didn’t think twice about pulling up a chair, having a seat with the customers and starting a conversation about the Wiggles, Dora, “The Dude”(our dog) or her new shoes . My wife and I had to sit her down and explain that every table was here to enjoy dinner by themselves and that it was impolite to interrupt. I had barely gotten the explanation out when her eyes started to well up and she began to cry. Talk about heart-breaking.

The key to being a “Food & Beverage” Dad is quality of time (since quantity is not really an option), so Kennedy has no curfew. If I get home before 11pm, she waits up for me. She comes with me to the farmer’s market, equipment auctions, Saturday AM prep and even buying fish down at the docks. That’s just the way it is in an F & B family.

Buying Fish With K-Dog (aka Kennedy Gayle Caswell)

photo credit: Shannon O'Hara

Gulf of Mexico “Kampachi,” Part 2 - The Kanzuri Cure

noreply@blogger.com (Whole Fish) — Fri, 27 Feb 2009 03:26:00 +0000

Almaco Jack Filet

In a previous post, I talked about the Almaco Jack or Longfin Yellowtail coming out of the Gulf, which shocked me with its resemblance to farm-raised Yellowtail-Hamachi and Almaco -Kona Kampachi coming out of the Pacific. Now that you’ve had the history lesson, let’s get to the eating part. Different proteins call for different applications, some are versatile while others aren’t. The Almaco Jack, although very good in hot applications, shines tremendously on the cold/raw side.

At Reef, we love experimenting with contrasts in texture in relation to how the fish structure changes under certain applications. For this dish, we used somewhat of a “short” cure to alter the outer flesh while still retaining the integrity and silkiness of the inner part of the filet.

Kanzuri Cure...Curing

The cure consists of a ratio of 3 to 1 sugar to salt (which many would consider high on the sweet side for a cure). For the sweet end of the deal, we use palm sugar and agave nectar; on the salt side, sea salt and Kanzuri Paste. Kanzuri paste is a very interesting product -- it’s a fermented chili paste from the mountains of Japan where the peppers have been exposed to the snow (kind of a frost bit deal), mixed with salt and malt, then fermented for around three years. It has a deep, complex, salty heat. Together with the sweet and the salt, we mix crushed jalapenos, shallots, mint and lime zest. The fish then sets to cure for around three to four hours depending on the thickness of the filet.

To plate the dish: we place sliced cucumbers between the pieces of cured fish, add cucumber water and some pureed cure marinade (fresh, not used!) and there you have it!

Kanzuri Cured Longfin Yellowtail, Cucumber Water and Mint

Ice ‘Em Swimming

noreply@blogger.com (Whole Fish) — Fri, 20 Feb 2009 12:15:00 +0000

The first hour after a fish is harvested is by far the most crucial time in its stored life. Proper procedure and care immediately after a fish is harvested can add three to six full days of shelf-life (depending on the varietal). As a fish cook and a fisherman, my processing etiquette on the boat can be flat-out obsessive but, if you follow these steps, you can enjoy your fresh-caught fish for well over a week and skip the sacrilege of sending them to the freezer.

1. DON'T PULL THEM GREEN

Horsing a fish will usually result in two things: one, he will break off, causing that heartbreaking, hollow numbness that instantly washes over your body after your line goes flaccid, leaving you with either excuses or rage; or two, he will tear up both the boat and his muscle fibers once inside the boat. Those torn muscle fibers result in blown blood vessels and soft or mushy protein. Take your time, enjoy, wear him out, there are no points for speed.

2. SWIFT AND INSTANT

Now is the time when speed and points come into play. If the fish is big enough to gaff, get him in the boat, pop him once, hard, right behind the eyes (gaff placement is key) -- be swift and kind -- then get him covered in ice, completely. If he is not gaff-size, then just put him straight into the ice. There are certain species that benefit greatly from bleeding; most of these fall into the large, faster-moving Pelagic-type fish, especially tuna which have the ability to control there own body temperature. During feeding frenzies their internal body temperature can rise to 85-90 degrees; bleeding greatly improves your ability to quickly lower their internal temperature (wahoo, sharks and large jacks do not share this ability but can still benefit from this technique).

3. ICE MANAGEMENT

You can never bring enough ice. All too often, I will look into a fish-filled cooler with nothing but water and two cubes of ice. You need to cover those babies like they’re wrapped in a wool blanket in the wintertime. I always start the day with one of my coolers filled with clean ice and the others half full. If time or space is an issue, check out those new Yeti’s - it’s a new breed of cooler whose insulation is far superior to any others. I use them both on the boat and in the kitchen. Saltwater slurries, which can reach temperatures well below freezing, are also an option for a quick chill.

4. DRAINAGE

Always roll with the cooler plug open. Standing water is your biggest enemy when it comes to proliferation of bacteria. Nothing could be worse than your fish sitting in water.

5. TIME ON ICE

Depending on the size of the fish, they need at least 3-6 hours on ice. Fish that have not had the opportunity to complete the cooling process and reach - and complete - full rigor will greatly affect ease of processing on the cleaning table and reduce your yield percentage. In many cases, with the muscle fibers still active, the meat of the filet will seize up, shrink and become extremely tough and spongy when cooked.

6. BACK AT THE DOCK

Here is where you have to make a very important decision: (1) Do you clean the fish at that dock table on top of the water-swollen, green plywood table-top in the hot, bright, afternoon sun? Or (2) Can you take them home to a controlled, clean, sanitized environment? If the answer is (2) then you first need to gut the fish and wash out the stomach cavity before heading home. If you do have to clean them at the dock, make sure you bring a large plastic cutting board and at least one large stainless sheet pan from a restaurant supply store. Also don’t be afraid to bring your own sanitizing solution (1 cap of bleach per gallon of water). As you separate the first filet from the bone, place it skin side down on the sheet pan; then place the second one flesh to flesh. After you complete the fish in this way, sanitize the board and then begin to take the skin off of each filet. The skin and scales are like a protective coating keeping bacteria from the flesh and, in turn, harbor most of these undesirables. Do whatever you can to keep the two from touching.

7. ICE 'EM SWIMMING

Stack the fish head to tail like they are swimming in the ice. Do this one layer after another. Fish that have been cared for using the tips above and then iced correctly can last up to 1 ½ weeks and sometimes longer.

Ice 'Em Swimming

Gulf Of Mexico “Kampachi”

noreply@blogger.com (Whole Fish) — Sat, 14 Feb 2009 02:15:00 +0000

The Carangidae family of fish, or Jacks as they are commonly called, is one of the more diverse varietals in the Gulf. The Greater Amberjack, Pompano, and Permit are some of the more well-known species, but there are many lesser-known, but equally as tasty Jacks: Black Trevally, Rainbow Runner, Palometa and Almaco. Jacks are fast-swimming predatory, Pelagic fish (meaning they live in the water column in the open sea closer to the water’s surface, no more than about 1000 meters deep) that hunt surrounding reefs or the open seas.

There are about 151 species of Jacks worldwide. In the Gulf, my best count is about 25 species, 14 of which I would consider plate-worthy, but recently it seems as if I am introduced to a different species every month.

Almaco Jack or Longfin yellowtail

The Almaco Jack or Longfin Yellowtail (Seriola rivoliana) is the second largest of the Amberjack clan and, even though it takes heat very well, I believe it is one of the best fish coming out of the Gulf to serve raw. I started seeing them at the docks about 9 months ago and my crew and I at Reef originally pegged it to be a younger Greater Amberjack, but once I took a knife to it I noticed a serious difference.

Almaco filet

The muscle structure and shape were identical to the farm-raised Yellowtail-Hamachi and Almaco -Kona Kampachi coming out of the Pacific. So I sliced a piece, hit it with a little sea salt and down the hatch it went…Ooooh City! Amazing! Sweet thing, where have you been all my life? After a little research, I found that the Almaco Jack can be easily differentiated from the Greater Amberjack by the elongated dorsal and anal fins that have a definite sickle shape.

Other unusual and tasty Jacks that have passed through the Reef doors lately: Black Trevally, Rainbow Runner, African Pompano, Bar Jack, and Look Down.

Stay Tuned for Part 2...