Black Cod Reigns with Hosmer Brothers’ Pâté

When it comes to fish around these parts, it’s hard to deny that salmon is king—literally in the case of the king salmon species. But what if I told you there was another fish that quietly reigns in abundance from our West Coast to Alaskan waters? What if this hypothetical fish had just as many, if not more, healthy OMEGA-3 fatty acids and loaded superfood proteins?

This fish is already hot stuff in Japan and mostly found as a high-end restaurant item here in the states. The cherry on top is that, unlike most of our legacy wild fisheries, this tasty critter is rated Best Choice for sustainability by the Monterey Bay Aquarium’s Seafood Watch, and the fishing method is netless and virtually bycatch-free.

I am referring to the beautiful, bottom dwelling black cod, which is not even technically a member of the cod family and is also known as sablefish. Or simply “sable” in a typical East Coast Jewish deli. Smoked black cod is usually found in the states wherever one might find lox, a la on a bagel, charcuterie board, or in a spread. Sometimes one sees the fish as an entrée in an upscale restaurant, often with Mediterranean flavors of olives, cherry tomatoes, white wine, and lemon. In Japan where black cod, called gindara, may enjoy its greatest popularity, a sweet miso marinade is utilized for several days before broiling. Gindara melts in your mouth almost like a dessert and is often served with a side of cooked baby Bok choy and rice.

Cut black cod / The Evergreen Echo

Not only are our regional waters full of ‘em, but a subset of local fisherman I dub the “black cod disciples” have been foretelling the day that Americans collectively woke up to the bounty for years. Perhaps that day is nigh with some help from little Whidbey Island Seafood Company. Founded by two commercial fishing brothers Andrew and Adam Hosmer in 2019, their indie operation gained notoriety last year when they won a Symphony of Seafood competition award for their innovative smoked black cod pâté.

“We started as commercial fisherman on our dad’s boat,” explains Adam. Their father ran the fishing vessel Baranof from the late seventies into the nineties and brought his sons into the family business. They started as processors on the Baranof and worked their way up to the wheelhouse.

“Our dad was one of the original guys to use cod pots in Alaska back when he was fishing,” says Andrew. “We’ve heard about it [black cod] forever. We fish it a lot up north, we fished it forever. It became this thing of how do you get it direct to market. Salmon is everywhere, salmon products. It’s great for us. But black cod is an opportunity.”

“We were looking to eventually get off the water somehow, but our expertise and talents were in seafood and seafood industry,” adds Adam. “The Baranof had always seafood markets at a wholesale level, just different than most boats. So we just came up with the idea to take it a step further: direct to consumer via website.”

• Whidbey Island Seafood Company

  If you’re intrigued by Whidbey Island Seafood Company, check out their website to directly access their seafood offerings. The award-winning black cod pâté is available at local Haggen and Town & Country Market grocery stores. At the time of this writing, at least sixty QFC locations were also going to take on the pâté that retails for around $10 to $15. Other Whidbey Island Seafood Co. creations—like their smoked salmon pâté and smoked black cod portions—are on the shelves as well.

They were by no means the first, but this digital-farmer’s-market approach is still relatively new to the industry. The brothers acquired their current location, formerly Seabolt Smokehouse, in the winter of 2022. The move allowed them to fully vertically integrate their business from the decks of the Baranof to the sale and delivery of goods to the customer.

Their timing with the COVID pandemic was strangely beneficial as quarantined Americans flocked to the digital marketplace for goods. While most commercial fishermen are content to deliver their catch to a big seafood distributor and collect a paycheck, the brothers have thrived on this digitally empowered, vertically integrated model. The duo are savvy entrepreneurs yet see the value of seizing the means of production.

Their operation is small but abuzz behind Seabolt’s Restaurant in Oak Harbor on Whidbey Island. Industrial smokers quietly do their magic from the back wall while employees package and prepare predominately black cod and salmon products. Boxes of smoked and vacuum-packed salmon portions from local anglers sit ready on a stainless-steel table for pick-up, with names like Bob or Steve written in black marker.

Freshly smoked black cod / The Evergreen Echo

For Andrew, fully controlling the seafood product has been great for innovation and diversifying their offerings. “The local support has been amazing and having the plant just to diversify the revenue. We have the e-commerce side, and the B2B side, and we do a lot of white labelling service for guys in Bristol Bay or Alaska or black cod fishermen who want to sell their stuff at farmer’s market or online so they bring their fish and we service it.”

These days the company also sources the catch of fishing vessels Saga, Dangerous Cape, and Nerka for sidestripe shrimp, spot prawns, and Pacific halibut. The Baranof also catches Alaskan crab species and Pacific cod, all bound for Whidbey Island Seafood Co.

“It’s [black cod is] not as easy to cook as other fish like salmon or other white fish because it’s oily,” explains Adam. “It’s also very rich. Historically, still, most of Baranof’s product goes to Japan. Japan loves black cod. They’ve always loved it. When we came here, we already did a pâté of salmon and tuna.”

“We know where’s it’s coming from,” says Andrew. “We have an abundant resource of it.” Perks of striking out indie-style are that they are liberated to create new foods. Black cod’s strong flavor and rich healthy oils have traditionally been a lot for the average American palette to take. The texture, often described as silky, is delicate to handle. It’s a challenging fish for a host to just throw on the skillet at a dinner party to pull off as a crowd pleaser.

“Flavor with black cod seems to neutralize that fishy, extra strong taste that people don’t like I think,” continues Adam. “Especially smoked black cod. People tend to like it more than cooked black cod. We even noticed our fresh frozen black cod is very popular on our website among locals. And there’s a difference. There’s black cod that’s not handled properly when it’s caught. That’s a totally different fish than black cod that is handled properly. It’s like night and day.”

Whidbey Island Smoked Black Cod pâté

The Evergreen Echo

Enter the award-winning pâté that I absolutely love. One could substitute this any time one would normally use lox as a bagel schmear with cream cheese or as an accoutrement on a cracker and cheese spread. The flavor has a nice balance of smokey and fishy with a hint of that classic sable butteriness. Fun fact: Another name for black cod is butterfish.

For those interested in sustainability, the way the brothers utilize the black cod back meat for the pâté also reduces fish waste. This high-quality meat is normally left over from the fillet process.

“We use 100% of our product,” says Adam. “Now we do a shelf stable pet treat with other straps from the human grade skin, grind it up and make a great pet treat. Backbone is great. Whatever is left we save in a bucket and customers come to buy for crab bait. There’s not much left. We’ve had people ask us for carcasses for fertilizer. There’s a lot of ways to utilize fish.”

Also worth noting with regards to black cod is the methodology used to catch them. The Baranof utilizes pots. If you’ve ever seen an episode of Deadliest Catch you have an idea of how pot fishing works for crab, a la throwing what are essentially baited cages into the ocean to sink to the bottom. The same strategy works for black cod, which is great news for those concerned with bycatch or environmental degradation from bottom trawling operations.

When enjoying a bite of black cod, maybe that’s one less bite out of the heavily chewed upon local salmon runs that our resident orcas need. I also think of the mercury-laden imported ahi tuna on a typical sushi platter, possibly reeled in by a poor kidnapped crewman with a seafood Mafioso’s gun to his temple. Throw on the unsustainability angle and it could someday be like eating a panda steak. One doesn’t need to be overtly sanctimonious to notice these things.

The Cascadian black cod disciples are a passionate bunch for a reason. If you aren’t shy about a fish that tastes like fish, it’s one of the best. Buying regional pot-caught black cod directly supports our local communities, minimally impacts the environment, is extremely healthy for our bodies, and is saliva-gland-achingly tasty. Consider me converted. All hail the king.