Farm Raised vs. Wild Caught

I love fish. Actually, to say I love it, is a huge understatement. Just ask my husband. I love cradling glass jars of sardines in my hands, carefully inspecting their ingredients all the while salivating incessantly and quite shamelessly. Said glass jars and I can lock eyes for quite some time. I am drawn to the fish markets and seafood departments in grocery stores. Somehow I feel more secure knowing that there is a canned herring within reach. It makes my inner child feel safe.

Because I love fish so much, and since I have not been able to find herring or sardines to my liking around here, I go for salmon. It’s the next best thing. I usually try to go for the fillets that have “never frozen” stickers on the packaging. I figure it’s best to consume natural, fresh products.

So, imagine my utter delight when my eyes caught these words on a package of salmon: “wild caught.” Wow. I almost automatically reached for it, afraid someone else might snatch it out of my hand. “This is as good as it gets. I got myself a fish caught in its natural habitat, ladies and gents! This one was not raised on a farm. This one actually had a hard life out in the ocean.”

I was quite pleased with myself and my little “catch” of the day. I cooked it up the next evening and even managed to steal the bigger piece, all in anticipation of consuming this natural treat. Alas, my celebratory mood was interrupted when I took the first bite. It tasted…fishy. And it was really…chewy.

Believe me, I am not a stranger to neither fishy nor chewy. My childhood memories are filled with hot summer day walks on the city streets lined with vendors selling sardines out of wooden crates lined with yesterday’s paper. They would scoop us the fish with their bare hands, weigh it, and then take your money and count out change…no washing or sanitizing in between. And there always were so many flies, everywhere. You get the picture.

So I am really familiar with fishy and chewy. In fact, my husband seems to think that these two characteristics are my main criteria for good fish. And, sometimes it is. But not this time. It was the kind of fishy and chewy that even I, the veteran lover of all fish could not bear. I must looked alarmed because my lovely husband came to the rescue of our wild caught dinner.

“You have to realize that this fish had to fight to survive. It had to swim upstream and that’s why it’s really muscle-y. It has little fat because it’s so fit. It’s better for you this way.”

I swallowed slowly and looked back at my plate. “He is right. It’s probably true.” I hesitated for a while. Took another bite and, as soon as I did, I knew that there was no way I was going to eat the rest of this muscle-y fit fat free wild caught salmon. I just couldn’t.

I am going back to my farm raised salmon. The fatty, lazy fish who didn’t have to work for a living. Who probably had a stress-free life and that’s why it ended up tasting so divinely good. And I am definitely reevaluating the fishy and chewy criteria.