Salarius means "of salt" in Latin. This is a blog about things that are of salt: Maine seafood, science, and the sea. Because salt once constituted a form of currency, Salarius also refers to salt money, an allowance, pay. The ocean pays back, sustains us; it provides food, oxygen, and a livelihood for the people of Maine past, present, and (hopefully) future. The views and opinions expressed here do not represent the views and opinions of NOAA, Sea Grant, or the University of Maine. Corrections, questions, and comments should be directed to Catherine Schmitt.
Just as I anticipated, sustainability messaging was ubiquitous on the trade show floor at the 2013 Boston Seafood Show. Repeated exposure to the word felt less like an illusion and more like dilution.
10. We can't trust our food. An estimated 10% of seafood is not the species it is sold or marketed as, and certain species are more likely to be false than others.
9. People are paying for more than they get - maybe 40% of the time.
8. Faking it is easy. Most of the seafood most of us buy and eat is in skinless, boneless, sometimes coated or breaded or otherwise concealed pieces, rather than whole. Processed fish is harder to evaluate "organoleptically."
As I prepare to head south to the Boston Seafood Show, where I'll be reporting for The Working Waterfront, I’ve been catching up on the latest national media stories on “sustainable seafood.” I don’t want to take an incredible bite only to find out that the fish I just sampled is not caught or raised “sustainably.”
Feeling the scallop season get a way from me, I’ve been in pursuit of fresh Placopectin magellenicus harvested from Maine waters by dayboat draggers and divers. But fresh, local seafood can be hard to find where I live in Bangor, within reach of the tide but 30+ miles from saltwater. Since I had a meeting Tuesday in South Portland, I knew I’d have the opportunity. But where to go?
Scallop season began on Sunday December 2 and runs through March 20. With new management measures in place, including closed areas, limited access to other areas, and reduced fishing days, the harvest may be lower this year and prices may be higher. Neither factor should be a deterrent to seeking out Maine scallops this season; it just means they are extra special.
The symposium attracted an impressive media response, starting with the Associated Press (first here and then a story from the conference about guessing the age of a lobster).
Today was the first full day of the American Lobster in a Changing Ecosystem: A US-Canada Science Symposium. More than 100 of the region’s top lobster scientists have gathered in Portland, Maine, to share their research.
Maine Department of Marine Resources Commissioner Patrick Keliher in his welcome remarks reminded the scientists that they also are here to help managers and fishermen to define “the new normal.”
The new normal = lots of lobsters.
After a hectic summer of coast-hopping, I finally found myself in Portland, where I’ve been wanting to check out the new Eventide Oyster Co. So I caught up with some good friends at the small, bright space on Middle Street next to Hugo’s Restaurant, of the same owners.
The Maine Lobster Festival is underway in Rockland, and there will be plenty of lobsters to go around—at an affordable price, too, given the recent surge in supply.
Yesterday I joined my colleague Natalie Springuel and our partners in eastern Maine to officially launch the Downeast Fisheries Trail. The 45 sites on the trail, in Hancock and Washington counties, highlight the region's maritime heritage.
There are fish in these rivers.
In the Kennebec, the Penobscot, the rivers in between and either side, the alewives are running.
On a recent cloudy April afternoon, Jamie Johnson was up to his elbows in sole, black bass, and halibut. Johnson is a manager at Jess’s Market, a busy seafood supplier to the Midcoast region. Johnson married into this family fish market business, but his knife skills and product familiarity suggest he’s found his calling.
Today's post is from Sarah Redmond, our new resident seaweed expert, who recently attended a “Cooking with Sea Vegetables” event at Five Seasons Cooking School, a small demonstration kitchen set up in the home of Lisa Silverman, a whole foods chef, cooking teacher, and wellness coach.
I’m posting this from the 37th annual Maine Fishermen’s Forum, THE annual gathering of Maine’s fishing industry. Sea Grant helped start the forum in 1976, and we’ve had a role in the event ever since. This year we are hosting seminars on seaweed, shellfish aquaculture, Trade Adjustment Assistance for lobstermen, ocean wind power, and ocean acidification.
A few weeks ago I promised more information on buying and preparing Maine shrimp. Well, waddya know the season ended last friday. So, for those of you lucky enough to have snagged a final pound (or two, or three...), I'll offer some final words until next year.
With the addition of Sarah Redmond, our new marine extension associate, we are fast expanding our research and extension into seaweed aquaculture in Maine.
I haven't yet been smelt fishing this year, but now that it seems cold enough for the rivers to actually freeze, I'm getting anxious. Rainbow smelt are a native, sea-run species that are good to eat (the fresher the better) and fun to catch--at night, in a shack suspended above a frozen tidal river, warmed by a rusty wood stove and whatever you may have brought to drink. You can find cleaned smelts in fish markets and some grocery stores this time of year, but why not catch your own?