Red's Best

Fresh Sea Robin
Not long ago, a friend and I went on a tour of Red's Best fish pier. This came about through a chat I had with the founder, after a food-focused symposium at Tufts Friedman school. He enthusiastically invited anyone to come visit the pier, and then repeated his offer to me when we chatted afterwards. So I thought, why not? A little glimpse of the middle ground between the fisherman and the fish market could be interesting and enlightening. I emailed the info contact and they were more than happy to lead the two of us on a tour of their pier and operations.
Mahi-mahi
 While their pier is small, there was so much going on inside I couldn't take photos fast enough. A vat of small squid was being washed, sorted, and boxed, splashing down a conveyor belt and overflowing onto the floor. There were bins and boxes of different fish everywhere: monkfish heads, whole mahi mahi, scup, sea robins, skate, conch, and all manner of shellfish. Just a glance around made me realize how limited our usual selection of seafood is, and also how lacking my fish identification skills are.
Sadly, the tour also highlighted how little of our bountiful local seafood actually stays local. While we import salmon, tuna, and a majority of the most popular species from other countries, the majority of local species don't have a large enough market to stay in the area. Much of what is caught in the northeast atlantic, particularly species unfamiliar to the average U.S. consumer, is shipped overseas to more eager customers. Monkfish is shipped to China, as well as many markets and restaurants in Chinatowns all over the U.S. Scup, a beautiful white fish with a lovely texture, is sent to other parts of Asia, or to processors who make unnamed, square breaded fish products. Despite this depressing use of amazing local seafood, Red's Best actually represents the best-case scenario: their policy is to buy and use everything their fisherman catch. They have a broad, complex system of distribution that allows them to find the right buyer for almost anything, and what they can't sell for human consumption, they sell to cat food makers or process into bait and sell back (at cost) to their own fishermen. This ensures that nothing is wasted, but this business model is by no means the norm. Other seafood middlemen will only buy certain species from their partner fishermen, forcing the fishermen to search far and wide for only the most popular fish. This can also result in by-catch and companion species (yes, some fish do like to swim together with other species) being thrown overboard or thrown away upon arrival at the pier. As the food category with the highest waste, as well as one of the most potentially harmful to the environment when managed badly, Red's Best methods of utilization should be the rule and not the exception.
Scup in the sunshine
 After visiting the pier and seeing how much careful work is being put in to harvesting and creating a market for the underutilized, more sustainable fish species, I am now compelled to seek out those species when I'm looking for a seafood dinner. I feel as if I've tasted my first heirloom tomato after a lifetime of hothouse Romas. With so many delicious options out there, why settle for farmed salmon or tasteless Tilapia? It's time we all stretched our skate wings and checked out what's Scup at the local fishmonger.

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