Everybody who owns a rod and reel enjoys catching bluefish. They are aggressive, hard-fighting, love to come close to shore, and will eagerly hit just about any lure cast their way. But for all the fun in catching blues, not everyone wants to eat this seasonally abundant species.
“They’re just too fishy,” a friend told me last summer when I offered her a fresh bluefish filet. “They’re just too gray and mushy,” my cousin, an avowed seafood junkie, told me recently. “I love them smoked and in fish dips,” she said, “but not on my dinner plate.”
If blues have gotten a bad rap over the years, it’s not their fault. In fact, neither the fish nor the cook should be blamed for the shortcomings of a species that deserves to be pursued and admired as much by chefs and diners as it is by anglers. Instead, if your bluefish tastes fishy, blame the fisherman.
Bluefish aren’t the only unfairly snubbed local species. Mackerel, for instance, a species that once formed the backbone of Cape Cod’s economy, are rarely served these days, despite the fact that they are as tasty as trout when just caught and pan-fried in butter and lemon. Times change, and so do the perceptions of deliciousness, I guess. Tuna used to fill Cape Cod Bay each summer, but nobody fished for them.
And then there are bonito, which until half a dozen years ago were rarely found in any numbers off northern Cape Cod beaches. As a kid, I learned they were never caught north of Vineyard Sound and Buzzards Bay. Thanks to warming water and the northward trajectory of our traditional cold-water species, the bonito seem to be one more unasked-for gift of climate change.
I went out on my fishing pal Ted Kurland’s boat last week, looking for bluefish without success. It was the third time in the last 10 days we had left Pamet Harbor looking for some acrobatic, arm-busting action and finding it, but not with bluefish. Every blues hangout we visited in Cape Cod Bay was chock-a-block with three- to four-pound bonito.
Bonito are in the same family as mackerel and tuna, larger than the former and smaller than the latter. Like bluefish, they are hard-fighting and worth it: they make a tasty meal in the oven or frying pan and are a spectacular addition to any smoker. It’s not too late in the season for bluefish to return to their usual haunts and in their typical numbers. But if they don’t, I can’t think of a finer fish to enjoy catching and eating the rest of this summer than bonito.
As with bluefish, much of the rich flavor of bonito is thanks to its oiliness. The bad news is that those same oils have an off taste when the fish is exposed too long to the heat of a summer’s day.
Recreational anglers are well advised to emulate commercial fishermen who understand that all fish taste better when handled properly. And with bonito, as with bluefish, that means not only icing them right out of the water, but also bleeding them first. Because the oils are carried in the fish’s bloodstream as well as its skin and flesh, simply putting oily fish into the cooler is not enough. To maximize their potential at the dinner table, oily fish must be bled as soon as they’re caught.
Bleeding a fish is a lot easier and less messy than it sounds and requires mainly a willingness to pause for a minute or two in the fishing action. Taking a few minutes to do this when fish are hitting on every cast requires discipline, but I consider it an act of respect for my sport-and-meal-worthy quarry. And given today’s three-bluefish daily limit, taking a short break rarely results in missing out on the fun — when fish are around, you’ll likely end up releasing some anyway.
On a boat, have a cord ready with a slip knot at one end and the other tied securely to the rail or cleat. As soon as the hook is removed, cinch the cord around the fish’s tail and hang it over the gunnel. Use a sharp knife to cut the fish’s throat completely through both gills, close to the body. As soon as the gills are slit, drop the fish into the water. The fish will die almost instantly and bleed out in minutes, ready for the cooler with an ice-and-seawater slurry deep enough to cover the fish. Fish will lose less moisture in salt water, whose density also results in a colder bath than fresh water.
On the beach, time is of the essence when the bluefish are moving rapidly. Always carry a sharp knife and a long cord in your pack. Make the gill cut, then tail-tie the fish, dangling it in the wash to bleed out while holding the other end of the cord. If you’re not leaving the beach or have no cooler full of icy seawater, dig a deep hole above the tide line and cover the fish in it. Tie the tag end of the cord to a stick of driftwood (or mark the hole with a vertical stick) so you’ll always know where the fish is buried. If the tide is falling, you may have to dig a series of holes to keep the fish as close to the cold water as possible.
The fresh-fish-loving Japanese have raised the proper handling of line-caught fish to an art form. Called ikejime, it requires proper bleeding and icing after the fish has been dispatched as quickly as possible with a thin spike driven into its brain. While a quick kill is humane, the tradition was actually developed to make the fish taste better: reducing stress and trauma significantly lowers levels of cortisol, adrenaline, and lactic acid in the fish, all of which can degrade the taste of the flesh.
The best sushi and sashimi chefs in the world, along with a growing list of restaurants, are mentioning ikejime on their menus. But this is not a method reserved for those with Michelin stars: What works for them will work in our own kitchens. It will also turn more people on to the deliciousness of the blues.
