Just Name Your Poisson

By Mimi Sheraton

Dogfish. Monkfish. Stingray. Weakfish. Mahi Mahi. Orange roughy. Opakapaka. Five years ago, few of those salt water creatures would have been likely candidates for the dinner table, either at home or in restaurants. Now Americans are hooked on fish. They are ordering not only such old standards as sole, salmon, striped bass and swordfish but the more exotic species as well. Restaurants and markets across the country tally big increases in sales of shellfish and finfish. The experience of Inland Seafood Corp., a wholesale distributor of fresh and high-quality frozen fish in Atlanta, is typical. "Our sales have increased about 20% every year over the past four years," says Bill Demmond, vice president in charge of purchasing. As the demand increases, so does the marketability of what used to be considered "trash" fish, now more politely dubbed "underutilized."

Once considered a penance and poor man's food, fish is enjoying an enhanced image for several reasons. Most important is the desire of health-conscious Americans to find foods low in calories and fat, advantages most seafoods offer. As transportation and refrigeration facilities improve, more varieties of fish in top condition are available all over the country. To keep supplies steady and free of pollutants, several kinds of seafoods are now successfully being farmed, among them catfish (always favored in the South and now gaining popularity up North), salmon, mussels and oysters. In addition, fish has attained gourmet status as Americans traveling abroad try it in sophisticated preparations. American chefs are challenged to develop their own savory creations. So great is the demand for skill in fish preparation that the Culinary Institute of America, in Hyde Park, N.Y., the country's most prestigious professional cooking school, has set up a special fish kitchen. Says Specialist Rolland Henin: "Until a few years ago, I would bring in raw scallops and the students would say, 'Yuck.' Now I cut a scallop in half, and they can't wait to try it. Fish is becoming one of the predominant topics students ask about."

Judging by the popularity of fish in upscale restaurants, the curiosity is justified. Patrick Terrail, owner of Ma Maison, the Los Angeles celebrity haunt, reports that his fish sales are double those of meat. "God forbid that eight years ago I had served a raw fish in lime juice as an appetizer," he says. Today his marinated salmon in lime juice is a big seller on the posh menu.

Even a traditional steakhouse like the Palm reports 5% to 15% increases in fish sales at its branches in New York and other cities. Always popular along the coasts, seafood is now gaining favor inland as well. Jimmy Lynch's 8th Street Seafood Bar & Grill in Des Moines serves 60 to 70 dinners most evenings, three-quarters of which are seafood, a count that doubles on weekends. Lynch receives three air freight shipments of fish a week, totaling 400 to 500 lbs., including such bizarre specimens as monkfish and shark.

Nor is all the interest limited to upscale restaurants. Seafood chains are a rapidly growing segment of the industry, according to a 1984 survey by the National Fisheries Institute, and even in chain restaurants that serve meat, fish is gaining favor. A case in point is the Sizzler, with more than 450 restaurants in the inexpensive-to-moderate price category. Says Advertising Director Don Lum: "We've seen a significant increase in fish consumption in the past two years." Their expanded line offers for between $5 and $8 complete main courses such as shrimp, lobster, crab, salmon, New Zealand whitefish, orange roughy, John Dory, hoki, halibut and swordfish. And the Dallas-based TGI Friday's Inc., with 104 locations in 31 states, now has 20 to 25 fish dishes on its menu, compared with two or three in 1977. Says Greg Dollarhyde, vice president of finance for Friday's: "They are shifting from heavy fried foods to charbroiled."

Even those Americans who ordered fish in restaurants used to be reluctant to cook it at home, believing that it was difficult or unpleasant to handle. Now that prejudice is fading. The small, ethnic, Mom and Pop fish stores are disappearing from large cities, but they are being replaced to some extent by Korean-operated shops and elaborate seafood departments in supermarkets. Grand Union has had Graphic Designer Milton Glaser give special attention to its new seafood departments, with lots of white tile and ice for whole and cut fish. The results are good, according to Steve Osder, director of seafood merchandising for the 75 markets in the East and Southeast. "We have had a 25% increase in the amount of fresh seafood in the past two years," he says. Frozen fish sales are flat but not declining because stores are selling more prepared seafood entrees. It is those entrees, rather than frozen raw fillets, that are keeping the balance steady in the frozen fish section.

The new popularity of fish is having some predictable marketing effects. As demand increases, prices have gone up, and fish entrees can cost as much as meat. Monkfish, once $1 a pound, is now $3, and the price of squid has quadrupled. There is also a stronger incentive for unscrupulous restaurant owners to pass off such inexpensive varieties as red grouper, shark or pollack for red snapper, swordfish or striped bass. One of the most flagrant transgressions in recent seasons has been the substitution of inexpensive calico scallops from Florida for the more delicate variety found in the Northeast.

Then too there is a question of aesthetics: the American taste may be broadening, but many people still recoil from an unattractive name. So a vocabulary of euphemisms for Cinderella trash fish surfaces. Dogfish becomes grayfish or salmon shark. For opakapaka, try Hawaiian pink snapper. Blowfish are sold as sea robin or sea squab. The huge, shapeless monkfish fetches a , higher price under its French name, lotte.

"Nomenclature is central to fish marketing," says Bob Rubin, a partner in the Chicago Fish House, a wholesale distributor. "The name has to sound good. You could have a perfect fish that tastes like candy, but if it's called a ratfish, it won't sell." Speaking of the tilapia, a prolific and delicately flavored fish, he says, "It doesn't sound like something you'd want to eat." Bill Demmond is not so sure. "Fishermen couldn't give away amberjack," he says. "Now it sells for $1 a pound wholesale. We can't keep enough seafood. If they catch it, we'll look at it, because if it swims, it's edible."

With reporting by Barbara Kraft/Los Angeles and Laura Lopez/New York