When bycatch is on the menu

Turns out, they were caught up in a targeted mackerel harvest and sold as bycatch, defined as “anything that is caught in the fishing process beyond the species and sizes of the targeted marine organisms,” according to the Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) of the United Nations. This definition casts a wide net and includes, for example, ocean sunfish (Mola mola), an unmarketable bycatch of the California swordfish fishery; the 10 orcas accidentally ensnared off Alaska’s Aleutian Islands last year by bottom trawlers in pursuit of yellowfin sole and Pacific Ocean perch; and the Pacific sardines at Winnie’s, an incidental catch of an otherwise protected, non-target but quite marketable species.

“Anytime you put a hook in the water, you can’t be sure what’s going to bite,” says Dave Rudie, founder of the seafood market Catalina Offshore Products in San Diego. “So inevitably you’re going to get some bycatch.” Thanks to the active commercial ban on the fishery, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Association (NOAA) currently considers the Pacific sardine stock “not overfished.” So, onto my plate they went.

What is bycatch — and when is it edible?

“There are multiple meanings of bycatch depending on who you talk to,” admits Elizabeth Hellmers, a senior environmental specialist with the California Department of Fish and Wildlife (CDFW). “But as long as their populations are healthy and being managed properly, it’s beneficial for the entire production pathway [from fishers to consumers] to use as much bycatch as possible.”

Domestic bycatch is monitored by the National Marine Fisheries Services and the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, with help from heavy-duty legislation like the Marine Mammal Protection Act, the Endangered Species Act, and a host of other legal provisions that aim to keep our sea stocks flourishing. Even though a 2018 assessment by the FAO estimates that bycatch amounts to nearly 10 percent of the global catch, an NOAA review of standardized bycatch reporting acknowledges that some information about bycatch is predictably anecdotal. “It’s hard to count fish in or out of the sea,” quips Harth.

Advocating for bycatch

With Winnie’s opening in summer 2025, and numerous pop-up previews until then, Harth continues his crusade to advance the use of bycatch and other undervalued sea species, a passion that originated while sportfishing with his father near their family home south of Tillamook Bay, Oregon, and commercial fishing for his erstwhile Portland seafood restaurant, Erizo.

Over the course of his lifelong seafaring history, Harth has developed certain insights about bycatch or even underutilized species. For instance, red and brown rock crab, which can be found in great abundance along the West Coast, make a more robust seafood stock compared to the highly sought-after Dungeness, which has a more delicate flavor despite being “stressed out.” While lingcod and rockfish are common targets for rod-and-reel fishers casting off jetties in Oregon, the chef also enjoys the mild and flaky flesh of lesser-known cabezon or monkeyface eel that occasionally hook on the same lines. And at hyper-regional Erizo, he eschewed the wild mussels and ocean-farmed oysters from eastern Canada’s Prince Edward Island — a frequent fossil fuel-guzzling flex on West Coast restaurant menus — for Oregon’s own gooseneck barnacles, littleneck clams and surftide mussels, which more meaningfully evoked sense of place.

“If anyone could influence someone’s opinion about bycatch species, it might be a chef or a restaurant,” says Harth. Indeed, he is the latest in a legacy of toques who have fought food waste with kitchen initiatives; consider Dan Barber’s WastEd series, which turned food scraps into delicious dishes like fried skate-wing cartilage and beet-pulp burgers, and Massimo Bottura’s Food for Soul program, which feeds the homeless warm and nutritious meals made from high-quality restaurant discards. As Katherine Miller, author of “At the Table: The Chef’s Guide to Advocacy,” said in an interview with The Bittman Project, “Chefs are well suited to help accelerate advocacy work. They can help translate complicated topics into something easier to understand. [They] have too much influence on our food choices … to just sit on the side lines.”

Harth’s advocacy brings attention to a waterfall of lost resources and opportunities — the hallmarks of a broken food system — associated with blindly jettisoned legal bycatch, which include but aren’t limited to a recreational fisherman’s missed meal, the massive carbon demand of importing seafood from foreign countries, and the overfishing of popular species. His activism also manifests in a respectful, elevated approach to preparing these so-called discards: In his purview, house-made butter is flavored with smoked Kellet’s whelks, a bycatch of Santa Barbara’s lobster fishery. Of the Pacific octopus often found in crab pots, he makes wood-grilled skewers slicked in wild mushroom oil. (Doing their part for the survival of the species, Pacific octopus spawn hundreds of thousands of eggs and die soon after, often at the claws of crabs, which is why they’re regularly found in the pots.) And turning purple sea urchin into uni-on-toast is especially beneficial, since the urchin is an invasive species with a voracious appetite for the valuable kelp forests along the Mendocino Coast.

But if mild white fish is the extent of your seafood palate (no judgment here), Harth assures that wolf eel and the small shark species dogfish — whose low marketability in the U.S. may be due to their canine-related monikers among other stigmas — will readily appeal. What’s considered bycatch in America may be target catch elsewhere in the world, theoretical proof of concept for their culinary applications. In Ensenada, Mexico, dogfish and angel shark are the preferred proteins for Baja-style fish tacos — a nod to the 1950s and ’60s Japanese fishermen who introduced their traditional tempura-battered shark to the region. “That’s part of the appeal of most bycatch,” says Harth. “It’s different, but also familiar.”

Marketing for sustainability

Also fighting current on the way to marketability is opah,  the world’s only fully warm-blooded fish species, a biological advantage that helps them swim, digest and react faster than their cold-blooded cohorts in cold, deep ocean. Its flesh may have a beautiful pinkish-orange hue reminiscent of tuna, but some of its cuts, particularly the adductor muscle, taste entirely, well, beefy. And flavor hasn’t been the only barrier to more widespread inclusion on the American dinner table: Its appearance is also unusual. Opah looks almost celestial, with gold-rimmed eyes and a full moon-shaped body that’s speckled, silvery and rosy around the edges. For some, the fish may look too otherworldly to eat.

In 2013, Dave Rudie of Catalina Offshore Products received a call from fishermen who were harvesting Pacific bluefin tuna between Hawaii and California. They had found the target species in high numbers, though a significant fraction of the catch comprised opah. Still, Rudie agreed to purchase their 30,000-pound harvest, and subsequent monthly deliveries thereafter, to reboot the tuna supply in San Diego specifically for the sushi market. The city’s once-booming tuna canneries ceased operations in the 1970s and ’80s, parallel to the decline of Pacific bluefin and yellowfin species in the area due to overfishing.

“But opah was not a popular fish,” Rudie says, “so we had to figure out how to sell it.” He applied for, and received, NOAA’s Saltonstall-Kennedy Grant, which funds efforts to “help fishing communities optimize economic benefits by building and maintaining sustainable fisheries.” Catalina Offshore began working with the Southwest Fisheries Sciences Center to find ways to promote the fish using social media, retail sales and local chefs’ innovative recipes, such as opah burgers and opah pastrami.

Their marketing savvy paid off. But just as demand for the fish began to rise, the amount of opah bycatch began to trough. “Good old supply and demand,” muses Rudie, who sold Catalina Offshore about a year ago and has since pivoted to promoting yet another misunderstood species, the aforementioned purple sea urchin. “That’s the free-world capitalist system for you.”

Bycatch for the future

The latest Fisheries Economics of the United States Report, from 2022, revealed that the U.S. commercial and recreational saltwater fishing industry generated $321 billion in sales and supported 2.3 million jobs. Climate activist Ian Angus traces the origins of capitalism back 5,000 years to when “fishing for sale rather than consumption developed with the emergence of class-divided urban societies.” Additionally, he cites the first mention of overfishing in texts dating back nearly 2,000 years, when the Roman poet Juvenal lamented having to import fish from Corsica and Sicily because “our waters are already / Quite fished-out, totally exhausted by raging gluttony.” Sounds like overfishing, or the depletion of fish stocks due to a faster rate of harvest compared to the natural tempo of renewal, is a tale as old as time.

Can utilizing bycatch tackle such an ancestral problem? Maybe not entirely, but Hellmers of the CDFW thinks that using less-popular species can at least take “a little bit of pressure” off the main ones. “We have a huge demand for seafood in this country, so anything that can be used and sold is beneficial for the fishers, the consumer, and from a management perspective,” she says.