American Catch: The Fight for Our Local Seafood

by Paul Greenberg

INVESTIGATIVE REPORTERS & EDITORS Book Award, Finalist 2014

"Greenberg’s breezy, engaging style weaves history, politics, environmental policy, and marine biology." -- New Yorker

In American Catch , award-winning author Paul Greenberg takes the same skills that won him acclaim in Four Fish to uncover the tragic unraveling of the nation’s seafood supply—telling the surprising story of why Americans stopped eating from their own waters.

In 2005, the United States imported five billion pounds of seafood, nearly double what we imported twenty years earlier. Bizarrely, during that same period, our seafood exports quadrupled. American Catch examines New York oysters, Gulf shrimp, and Alaskan salmon to reveal how it came to be that 91 percent of the seafood Americans eat is foreign.

In the 1920s, the average New Yorker ate six hundred local oysters a year. Today, the only edible oysters lie outside city limits. Following the trail of environmental desecration, Greenberg comes to view the New York City oyster as a reminder of what is lost when local waters are not valued as a food source.

Farther south, a different catastrophe threatens another seafood-rich environment. When Greenberg visits the Gulf of Mexico, he arrives expecting to learn of the Deepwater Horizon oil spill’s lingering effects on shrimpers, but instead finds that the more immediate threat to business comes from overseas. Asian-farmed shrimp—cheap, abundant, and a perfect vehicle for the frying and sauces Americans love—have flooded the American market.

Finally, Greenberg visits Bristol Bay, Alaska, home to the biggest wild sockeye salmon run left in the world. A pristine, productive fishery, Bristol Bay is now at great The proposed Pebble Mine project could under¬mine the very spawning grounds that make this great run possible. In his search to discover why this pre¬cious renewable resource isn’t better protected, Green¬berg encounters a shocking the great majority of Alaskan salmon is sent out of the country, much of it to Asia. Sockeye salmon is one of the most nutritionally dense animal proteins on the planet, yet Americans are shipping it abroad.

Despite the challenges, hope abounds. In New York, Greenberg connects an oyster restoration project with a vision for how the bivalves might save the city from rising tides. In the Gulf, shrimpers band together to offer local catch direct to consumers. And in Bristol Bay, fishermen, environmentalists, and local Alaskans gather to roadblock Pebble Mine. With American Catch , Paul Greenberg proposes a way to break the current destructive patterns of consumption and return American catch back to American eaters.

The Washington
"Americans need to eat more American seafood. It’s a point [Greenberg] makes compellingly clear in his new book, American The Fight for our Local Seafood ... Greenberg had at least one me .”

Jane Brody, New York Times
“ Excellent .”

The Los Angeles Times
“If this makes it sound like American Catch is another of those dry, haranguing issue-driven books that you read mostly out of obligation, you needn’t worry. While Greenberg has a firm grasp of the facts, he also has a storyteller’s knack for framing them in an entertaining way .”

The Guardian (UK)
“A wonderful new book”

Tom
"This is on the top of my summer reading list. A Fast Food Nation for fish.”

Genres: Nonfiction, Food, Science, Nature, Environment, Conservation, Animals

320 pages, Hardcover

First published June 26, 2014

About the author

Paul Greenberg is the New York Times bestselling author of Four Fish, American Catch, The Omega Principle and Goodbye Phone, Hello World. A regular contributor to the Times and many other publications, Mr. Greenberg is the winner of a James Beard Award for Writing and Literature, a Pew Fellow in Marine Conservation and the writer-in-residence at the Safina Center. He has been featured on Fresh Air with Terry Gross, TED and PBS's Frontline.

Reviews

[Casey · Rating 4 out of 5]

The huge salmon filet that I bought and cooked for my family a few nights ago was both incredibly delicious and simple. I seasoned it with some kosher salt, freshly ground pepper, and Californian extra virgin olive oil. I then broiled it for a just a few minutes, until the skin started crackling, then topped it with more olive oil and fresh dill. Of course, it would have been a sin to cook it all the way through: I like my salmon fairly rare in the center. And there's the rub: I only feel comfortable cooking salmon this way when I can find wild Alaskan salmon that has been processed in the US. Sadly, this high quality fish (which is critically important if we want to improve the health of the millions of Americans who are overweight or obese) can be difficult to find in American grocery stores. I'm lucky to have a wonderful grocer down the street, that sources many different types of wild Alaskan salmon. Sadly, a large number of stores only stock imported farmed salmon, which obtains its pink hue from artificial food coloring.

American Catch deals with the shocking fact that the United States exports most of its high quality wild fish to more discerning countries (mostly in Southeast Asia). Most of the seafood that Americans eat is imported from questionable farmed sources in Asia. Yes, this is complete madness that's bad for health, and bad for taste. Farmed tilapia is increasingly popular throughout the US: it's main appeal is that it doesn't really taste like fish. In reality, it doesn't really taste like anything. It's the boneless, skinless chicken breast of seafood, and it's not even particularly healthy. The omega-3 rich wild salmon we catch in droves in Alaska is, apparently, "too fishy" for the American palate.

This is a book that makes me increasingly angry with the American proclivity to value price and quantity over quality. Even though I live in a city that borders the ocean, with many people who are obsessed with good food, I don't frequent a good fishmonger. I have to carefully examine my fish purchases, because many grocery stores stock fish that's not sustainable. I'd love to catch some San Francisco Bay oysters, but we kind of ended up screwing up their entire ecosystem. Oops. This is doubly bad because bivalves filter the water, making it clean and safe.

I recommend American Catch to anyone who eats seafood; it's shocking how screwed up the seafood system is in the US.

[Ben · Rating 3 out of 5]

A polemical companion to "Four Fish," but not quite as strong. The general thesis is that America used to have (and in many cases still does have) significant seafood resources but we have wasted, destroyed, or ignored them. In their place, we rely upon largely foreign-produced seafood, while exporting our best stuff abroad. There's a fair amount of focus on us exporting things to China, which may be wrong but is hard to not view as a slightly xenophobic argument. But the parts in here about the destruction of various aqua habitats is more compelling. In particular, the first section on New York oysters and their old role in helping to clean the harbor and attempts to reinsert them today is a fascinating story about attempts at environmental cleanup. The shrimp section on the destruction in Louisiana plus how foreign goods drive the price down is not quite as good, while the sockeye salmon chapter has some lovely writing around fisheries and what these creatures look like, but also suffers a bit from the CHINA! menace.

Part of what weakens Greenberg's arguments a bit on the shrimp and salmon side is he doesn't spend that much time on the consumer and marketing part of this problem. Part of the challenge with getting people to buy American seafood is it's not always clear in the grocery store exactly what you are getting. Atlantic salmon usually means farmed from Norway, but a very reasonable person could conclude it actually came from somewhere on the massive American Atlantic coast. Shrimp is basically never labeled with its home location. Basically, there's not really an American seafood brand. Now that I know sockeye salmon are American I'm more inclined to try them, but before that I had no great way of sorting out all the different varieties.

But there's a consumer problem here too. Americans don't like to eat particularly fishy fish. I'm sure there are cultural/historical reasons for this, but a bit more unpacking of this issue would be worthwhile. Greenberg does do this with shrimp, which prompts an interesting discussion about how their shells affects muscle fiber in a way that contributes to their great mouthfeel (possibly the ickiest way to describe taste). Figuring out ways to get Americans to consider things that they might not normally try has to part of this strategy.

Cost is also inescapable. If you don't market shrimp as one thing or another, then most people are probably just going to pick the cheapest cost item--if there are even multiple price points available in the store. I don't know what sockeye salmon cost, but wild fish tend to be much more expensive than the farmed stuff. Similarly, tilapia and catfish, which are also extremely popular, are among the cheapest seafood options in the store. The cost seems to matter here a lot and isn't something that should be forgotten.

[Brent · Rating 4 out of 5]

Good friendly writing about oyster, shrimp, and salmon in our culture. I was bothered by author reference to the Okefenokee in Florida. Still good.

[Peggy Page · Rating 4 out of 5]

A different take on the fisheries crisis, this book is not about over-fishing but about the strange paradox of where American fish wind up, and what fish wind up on American plates. Greenberg makes a good case for his chief concern: that the lack on appetite (literally) for wild caught local fish leads Americans to be careless about the health of the ecosystems which sustain those fish. He claims, no doubt correctly, that Americans don't like wild fish because they don't want to touch it, don't know how to cook it and don't want it smelling up their expensively appointed show kitchens. This is after all a nation that thinks "seafood" is the pasty, rubbery white shrimp lumps that Red Lobster offers at ridiculously low prices and obscenely high quantities. I had no idea that 91percent of the seafood Americans eat comes from abroad (much of it raised or caught with questionable sustainability) or that the vast majority of our locally caught fish is exported. We export the good stuff and import the crap. It's that simple. A very readable and useful book.

[Numidica · Rating 4 out of 5]

Excellent, readable disquisition on the state of American fisheries and the state of the seafood industry. Think that sounds boring? It is not, I assure you. Greenberg focuses on three fisheries, oyster, shrimp and salmon, but he does so much more. Fittingly, I read this book mostly while sailing from Wilmington, NC to Beaufort, NC ten miles or more offshore. It scares me the rate at which we are depleting the seas of their fish and other creatures, and how quickly we are filling the seas with our trash. Paul Greenberg offers a hopeful vision of how to bring back the fisheries, but one can see in his writing how hard it is to restore a fishery, say, the once wildly prolific oyster beds of New York, and how relatively easy it is to preserve the healthy fisheries like the Gulf of Alaska. If only we had a government that cared about the future - maybe after 2020. I don't have time to write more just now, but if it's any indicator, I finished this book in three days. It's a page turner.

[Brianna Bowman · Rating 4 out of 5]

I had read Paul Greenburg's other well-known book, Four Fish, and knew that I would gain much needed insight from American Catch. The dilemma that Greenburg presents - Americans exporting a majority of seafood that we catch, and importing a majority of what we consume - was something that was brought to my attention when I worked for the Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife for a summer. I was aware of a lot of ocean caught salmon being brought in to ports in Astoria, and yet it was surprisingly difficult to find locally caught salmon that I could buy from a store. Most of it, someone had told me, after it was processed in Astoria, was shipped to an inland distributor. I was able to track down locally caught salmon in a small co-op grocery store, at an exorbitant price - $20 for a small tail-piece fillet! It started to dawn on me that most of the seafood that I ate at restaurants on the coast wasn't even from there - it was mostly an illusion. Greenburg presents this issue with three examples - oysters, shrimp, and salmon - with the salmon chapter being the strongest of the three (though I may be biased, given that it's on Bristol Bay sockeye salmon, and I live in Alaska).

Greenburg's writing style is effortless, tying together so much information in such an efficient amount of space without sacrificing narrative. I would say that there is a intangible blandness to his writing style, and I believe that's why I may have had a hard time getting through the book the first time. I would have a hard time narrowing down Greenburg's voice to any particular style that I could identify out of a lineup, but he is effective in telling the story of American seafood, and it is apparent how much he cares about the issues. Particularly in the chapter about Bristol Bay salmon and Pebble Mine, I think he managed to present both sides, perhaps not at a true balance - let's say 60% leaning towards Bristol Bay salmon, and 40% given to the Pebble Mine side. Even if there is some bias, Greenburg is always forthcoming about what that bias is. He has fantastic contacts and stories, including a brief interaction with Justice Sandra Day O'Connor.

If you are interested in understanding the economics of the American and global seafood industry, or have a friend who is studying fisheries science and you want to understand them a little better, then I would highly recommend this book.

[Nicole Means · Rating 4 out of 5]

"American Catch" reminds us that as the appetite of consumerism of the developed world becomes insatiable, our coastlines suffer. Big companies listen to our unrealistic demands for year-round supplies of fruits, vegetables, and fish. Greenberg tells the story of the ill-impacts of our seafood as a global economy through the history of three American favorites: oysters, salmon, and shrimp. Having lived in Louisiana for over 30 years, the chapter on shrimp and its bleak future on American shores caught my attention. Sadly, much of our shrimp production is outsourced to Vietnam. (Yes, not only is East Asia dominating light industrial production, but now it seems this region is dominating our seafood industry, as well). Unbeknownst to consumers, more and more seafood is exported from overseas markets. Louisiana, once known for its delicious redfish and luscious shrimp, is not only losing marshland but its economy is at great risk. Sadly, who will notice if our 'shrimp nursery' disappears since the foreign market will pick up our slack.
I gave the book a rating of 4. I found my mind wandering in certain portions of the book. However, Greenberg's writing reminds us that we are all ecological stewards. His book ends on a positive note that we still have an abundance of fish within our own waters and it is not too late for us. We can still be self-reliant on our own shores, we just have to educate our citizens that certain foods should not be eaten during all seasons. After all, absence does make the heart grow fonder, and our food taste more like food and less like overly processed rubbish.

[Emily Hewitt · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was an easy and fast read but one that will stick with me for a long time. I learned so much about seafood in America, particularly the history of Americans’ relationship with seafood (shrimp, oysters, and salmon). This book has also impacted how I shop for seafood and has made me more aware of where my seafood, particularly shrimp, is coming from. I am certain I will be reading the labels on my seafood every time I’m at the grocery store now and I want to try to take advantage more of local fish markets near me. I also was pleased that the author’s conclusion had a positive and optimistic outlook, as Americans are slowly beginning to care and put in an effort to eat more local seafood. I agree very strongly with one of his main points that just because we CAN farm seafood doesn’t mean it should be our ONLY method.

[Mike Holbert · Rating 3 out of 5]

The majority of seafood harvested in the United States is sent to Asia, while the majority of seafood consumed comes from Asia. The sections in this book on oysters and shrimp were very good, the section on salmon was lacking.

[Emma · Rating 3 out of 5]

Reads like a really really long editorial and also includes maybe six individual perspectives but I learned a lot!

[Travis Beckman · Rating 5 out of 5]

Paul Greenberg’s writing is Aldo Leopold meets Albert Camus, presenting the sea’s beauty and generosity while grasping with its seemingly antagonistic dual existence as an economic entity. This book simultaneously makes me proud and ashamed to be an American fisherman and seafood consumer, but also shows us a way to reshape our relationship with the ocean to assure its vital presence in the lives of Americans for generations to come.

[Bookley Podcast · Rating 3 out of 5]

https://youtu.be/bsM3HkDVBYk

[Curt Fox · Rating 4 out of 5]

Via Goodreads First Reads:

Paul Greenberg has set some lofty expectations among his readers, and as in previous books, he's lived up to them quite capably.
This book focuses on three sea creatures, the sockeye salmon, the Louisiana brown shrimp, and the Eastern oyster. And he seems to structure it by ascending hopefulness for the species in terms of edibility and continued availablility, from the dire state of the oyster, to the on-the-fence status of the shrimp, to the cautiously sunny outlook for the salmon.
He artfully blends history with contemporary circumstances, making clear where we, and the fish, were, and how we got to where we are now.
He is clear but mostly objective in his handling of the man-made obstacles and disasters we've delivered upon the creatures, and discusses the importance of responible fishing practices, and low-impact farming.
But I found myself with a specific question through most of the book: How do we sustain the market for American seafood?
He suggests broaddening our palate, but with lower prices for imported, farmed fish, aren't the budget-conscious justified in looking to save money?
Should Alaska NOT export its ample salmon supply if it's not selling well in the US?
And while in a perfect world the fish we eat would be wild, isn't it a tad naive to expect that to be the case in today's post-industrial global economy?
And at no point is the one-stop, magic bullet panacea suggested. But then it came clear for me, that there's no one big solution, but rather, many smaller, but still collectively effective, ones.
Buy local when you can, support smaller co-ops, broaden your palate- these are just a few of the ideas suggested throughout the book. And in the end, the picture, if not rosy across the board, at least has the potential to brighten as we become more conscious of just where we fit in the Big Cycle, and play a more responsible role.

Well-researched, well-presented, and well-considered, you'll be not only wise, but well-informed and well-entertained spending time with this book.

[Steve Peifer · Rating 5 out of 5]

First of all, above all, this guy can write. This is as compelling of a read as I've had in awhile. About my favorite thing in non-fiction is to be surprised and become interested in something new. This is about seafood, and the ecology and economics and politics that surround it. Absolutely fascinating reading. If you get on the internet and look up how to order Alaskan sockeye salmon direct from a fishermen, my guess is that you won't be the only one.

[Ginny · Rating 3 out of 5]

Read it! The downside of reading books about our food is that I realize I'm eating garbage and am destroying the world most days; BUT the upside is that I learn what I could be doing better. And the kind folks as Whole Goods are always so accommodating when I develop new questions about the source of my supper.

[Cameron DeHart · Rating 5 out of 5]

Really great book, in part, because it is the right length. Greenberg's other book, "Four Fish", was packed full of information and more difficult to follow in the car. In "American Catch", Greenberg focuses on three quintessentially American marine animals - New York oysters, Louisiana shrimp, and Alaskan salmon - to explore and explain the sad state of seafood in the U.S. today. It can be hard to tell sometimes, but the U.S. is still a major fishing nation in terms of the square miles of ocean we have exclusive rights to fish from, as well as the volume of seafood we import and export. I learned a helluva lot about the U.S. seafood industry, where I had previously assumed most of what we ate came from Alaska or Asia. I learned, for example, that New Jersey is a big commercial fishing state rivaling its New England neighbors like Maine, despite the state's proximity to the polluted and oyster-less waters of New York City.

My biggest takeaway from this book was Greenberg's argument that Americans' increased consumption of cheap imported fish from Southeast Asia, which were originally farmed to provide a cheap protein source to that region's poor, has destroyed in our minds the idea that the seafood WE eat should come from OUR waters. After more than a century of unregulated pollution, the US government in the 1970s took steps to clean up waterways and begin protecting fisheries as a common good for all Americans to enjoy today and in the future. The economics of the fish market, however, were changing. American fishermen and processors could not compete with cheap imported fish. Although we had plenty of fish to catch in our waters, the costs were too prohibitive and many processors closed down. Without stateside processors, many fisherman were forced to sell to foreign processors: the fish were caught, flash frozen, shipped overseas, thawed, processed, refrozen, and shipped back to the United States for consumption. Americans no longer observed or thought about the relationship between their diet and their local rivers, lakes, and coastline.

A major consequence of this decoupling of locale and diet, and the most interesting part of this story to this political scientist, was the disappearance of a broad constituency in American politics that supported clean, healthy waterways. The processors were big players in fish politics and once they closed, the small fishermen that depended on their business were left to die in a bottomed-out market.

What I wish Greenberg had spent more time on is the tenuous coalitions that have arisen to defend clean waterways. He mentions these groups separately, and in the conclusion he remarks that fishermen and sportsmen, who tend to be politically and socially conservative, need to realize that their interests are not being served by voting for politicians that want to deregulate the industries that pollute waterways. These people need to band together with lefty environmentalists and liberal foodies to put pressure on politicians to get fish policy right. There might be an analogous story here to "What's the Matter with Kansas", except it would be "What's the Matter with Fishermen?" I don't know if it exists yet, but I'd love to read a book about the politics of people who work in the fishing industry.

[Genna · Rating 4 out of 5]

"All that the sea asks of us is that we be wise in our harvest, recognize the limits of its bounty, and protect the places where seafood wealth is born. In return the sea will feed us and make us smarter, healthier, and more resilient."

What makes for great nonfiction writing, in my opinion, is passion. Greenberg is a hands-on researcher and environmental advocate, but he's also a fisherman. His texts ring with authenticity and true appreciation for his subject matter, making him one of my favorite environmental/nature nonfiction writers. Greenberg's writing is engaging and fluid, his research thorough without dragging. Additionally, he introduces me to spectacular new words like "nadir", "milquetoast", and "Pollyanna".

American Catch is divided into three primary segments, which cover the current state of and rehabilitation efforts of the oyster beds along the New York coastline, the Louisiana shrimp industry and, finally, the sockeye salmon of Alaska and its respective fishing enterprise. In particular, Greenberg is interested in the potential role revitalized oyster beds could play in a human/ocean symbiotic relationship and environmentally responsible future of coastal living, the impact of overseas shrimp farming and oil spills on the local industry, and the potential of the Pebble Mine in Bristol Bay to singlehandedly destroy the most productive and self sufficient remaining wild salmon run in the U.S.

"Whether we choose to embrace the ocean or not, it is coming to embrace us, faster than many of us can believe."

Oysters are one of my favorite sea creatures, both from a culinary and ecological standpoint. Unassuming in appearance and nature, they are little powerhouses of the sea, filtering gallon after gallon of water, providing ideal habitats for other ocean dwellers, and protecting our coastlines from natural disasters and rising sea levels. I particularly enjoyed Greenberg's brief but intriguing segment on oysters as coastal architecture/infrastructure ("oyster-tecture"), which envisions the idea of shaping oysterbeds into a natural combatant against rising tides and environmental disasters such as hurricanes. While only a third of the meat of Greenberg's second text devoted to the state of the fishing industry is focused on wild oysters and oyster farming in the Northeast, it was the strongest portion of the read for me, an unabashed oyster enthusiast.

Also of great interest in this particular narrative is what lies at the root of the problem. While oil spills and mining and poor sewage systems of course are a major factor in the rather abysmal state of our waterways, the major culprit of a struggling once core industry is the American consumer. Specifically, the reality of American seafood consumption. The average American consumer hates the taste and smell of fish and wants to be able to serve it on the dinner table with as little direct contact with the fishiness of seafood as possible. Therefore, the most healthful, environmentally responsible of our seafood is shipped abroad in favor of farmed flavorless and odourless fish, such as the bland suburban favorite tilapia. These foreign aquaculture varieties flood the American markets despite minimal inspection and lack many of the vital nutrients that has people turning towards seafood in the first place. A disheartening and rather disturbing affair.

Despite the potential for 300 pages of doom and gloom regarding the current state of our waters, Greenberg does an impeccable job of presenting the facts with clarity, but also enough positivity to show that hope still exists and that with enough dedication and elbow grease, change is possible. This is a conscious approach he addresses in American Catch, as he outlines not only his desire to present readers with a positive narrative but his own infallible hope for the future of American waterways and their inhabitants. An informative, absorbing read; rich with storytelling.

[Heather Snowe · Rating 4 out of 5]

I found myself at the end of this book before I even suspected that I was close. This happened because apparently 40% of the book is endnotes, which is neither here nor there but does say something about a book's construction and documentation. This is a book about American fisheries, with an agenda focused on raising awareness about seafood as a natural resource that United Statesians should be both protecting and consuming. It's presented in 3 sections meant to show U.S. fisheries at different stages of health: New York oysters (fucked up beyond any near-term redemption), gulf shrimp (struggling, but possibly still viable under the right management?), and Alaskan sockeye (healthy and reasonably well-managed as a fishery, but constantly under threat from mining interests). I found myself most absorbed by the oysters, because the impact of their removal on the ecosystem was so catastrophic yet there is a surprising amount of hope that they could make a comeback as water-quality engineers, even if it will be another 50 years before we could start eating them.

[Cynthia · Rating 5 out of 5]

I haven't finished this book yet (though it is a fast read), but I'm already giving it a 5.

There is a lot of information in here that most people already know, but it was instructive to have it all assembled in one place - and there's also a lot of new information I learned. Clearly, right now my interest has swerved to non-fiction books, particularly well written topical ones. I think I'll just start reading NPR-recommended books for a while. (And "son-in-law" recommended!)

Reading this will change my food shopping and eating habits. Unfortunately, it's also deepening my feelings of despair about our current political climate and values. What could be more important than investing in and protecting our natural resources and parks? Prioritizing our spending on fixing the damage that has already been done to our ecosystems?

[Greyson · Rating 3 out of 5]

Enjoyed the sections on shrimp and oysters more than the Bristol Bay salmon section. Probably a result of being too close to the situation but also some sloppy writing - calling Bristol Bay elders "Eskimos" just pages before referencing a white artisanal fisherman's "Portland hipster with Athabascan heritage".

I think we're in broad agreement that reengineering the coasts/estuaries to be more biologically sound is the only way forward with impending sea-level rise, and that keeping seafood within our national borders is good policy. The path forward for keeping seafood local probably means an increasing gap between commodity/value-added fish for low-income families while the upper class has access to pick their own whole fish down to the name of boat/date of catch, and Greenberg doesnt seem to have an answer for that.

[Helen · Rating 5 out of 5]

Another fascinating book from Greenberg. I learned so much about how our fisheries get ravaged. It points to the sad state of American fisheries, from years of overfishing, pollution, and cheap imported farmed fish. "But American fishermen are going extinct. Having lost their market share to the bargain-basement prices offered by foreign aquaculture, American fishermen can no longer compete."
I feel blessed to live in a place where commercial fishing still thrives and where wild fresh-caught fish are available. Not only is the fish delicious, but I like knowing that I am helping local fishermen make a living.
I love Greenberg's style. His books are well-researched and so well written, easy to read. Love the anecdotes and realistic language. Kudos.

[Scott Thomas · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was such an easy book to read even though it handles an extremely complex and nuanced subject. He breaks the book into three distinct sections about oysters, shrimp, and salmon or how we destroyed seafood, how we are currently destroying seafood, and how we might destroy seafood in the future.

Obviously, this can be a very depressing topic to read/learn about, but Paul Greenberg does a great job of not making it too bleak. He ends each section on ways local non-profits, businesses, or government agencies are teaming together to protect our water, seafood, and local communities. The book is informative and only a little soul-crushing.

One super interesting fact was the saltwater marshes are one of the most biodiverse ecosystems. They even rival rainforests.

[Barry Bridges · Rating 3 out of 5]

One man's opinion of our waters and our fault in the destruction of vital habitat. I was buying in, working through the thought-provoking history of the loss of oysters on the Eastern Seaboard, until the author finally encounters an actual New York oyster. I am thinking, catch and release, we will grow some more, but his guide opens the oyster up and Greenberg eats it. That soured my taste on the rest of his work and his conclusions. Like the global warming evangelist travelling is a private 737 and driving a gas guzzling suv, I am just not convinced the author takes this seriously. Sure, I am more careful about my seafood sourcing, but I was that way before I read the book.

[Chris Leuchtenburg · Rating 2 out of 5]

This is really three magazine articles lengthened and assembled as a book. Some of the stories are interesting, but the analysis left me unconvinced. For instance, he argues that one of the biggest problems with our seafood supply is international trade. He is incensed that we sell salmon to China and buy shrimp from Vietnam. The other problems that he sites, the dead shores of Manhattan, the erosion of the Mississippi Delta, the replacement of Asian mangrove forests with shrimp farms, etc. appear drearily insurmountable. His romantic visions of a locavore seafood industry just seem misty eyed.

[Nolan · Rating 4 out of 5]

I agree and empathize with nearly all of Paul’s points. He’s well reasoned and a darn good writer.

Two critiques, one on content and one on style:

1. His objections to aquaculture conflate “supplemental” with “replacement” of supply. He thoughtfully acknowledges the efficiencies (both environmental and financial) to the concept, which I appreciate. He does not however seem to be able to grasp the idea that two facts can both be true at the same time. You can continue to supply Americans with wild fish from domestic waters WHILE simultaneously increasing protein supply via aquaculture.

2. His sentences can get really long. Like paragraph sized sentences long.

[Ellen · Rating 3 out of 5]

Worth the read - Greenberg has a fact-filled yet still easy-to-read style that is quick to get through and interesting along the way.

Compared to what I recall of Four Fish (need to re-read!) he’s a little preachy here, and I don’t think the three example fisheries - oyster, shrimp, and salmon - quite capture the intended message he lays out in the introduction and recaps in the conclusion.

Interesting by themselves for sure, but his story telling doesn’t seemed focused enough to meet the framing I was set up to expect, so I finished this one a little disappointed.

[Brandon Lee · Rating 4 out of 5]

Reaction: fish fish fish. It is good. consume
Writing Style: reporter who talks with many different professionals and their stake in the survival of fish for future use and present preservation
Argumentation: the fact most fish Americans consume isn’t American made, even if there is plenty of edible fish domestically, despite the many damaging environmental harms incurred by industry and progress
Commendation: well reported, and thorough explanation of major fishes that make up American fishing industry
Critique: some more scientific benefits of consumption and how readers can help

[Chelsea · Rating 4 out of 5]

More reviews available at my blog, Beauty and the Bookworm.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I love food. And of all the foods I love, seafood is at the very top of that list. When I was in high school, if I got straight As, my dad would take me out for all-you-can-eat snow crab legs at one of our favorite restaurants. In more recent times, I've dragged my boyfriend out on a quest for fried clams because I decided I had to have them right now, and then spent a week in Maine eating sea food at literally every meal. Fish and chips (cod), fish tacos with a cilantro-lime crema (tilapia), lobster pots, crab cakes, steamed mussels, grilled trout, spicy crunchy yellowtail rolls, broiled scallops, blackened catfish...the list goes on and on. If it dwells in water, I'll eat it. I trace much of this back to growing up in Erie, Pennsylvania, which was once the largest fresh-water fishing port in the world, mainly for one item: Lake Erie perch. When I visit home these days, I make a point of ordering up some fried perch, one of the most delectable fried fish you can ever consume and one that came right out of the waters I grew up by. Until now, it never occurred to me that eating Lake Erie perch--a fish that was caught within miles of where I ate it--was unusual. But guess what? It is. It's very unusual. And that's a very, very bad thing.


Greenberg uses American Catch to dig into all the problems with how Americans use and view seafood. The US controls more fishing grounds than any other country, and we have an extremely long coast line, and yet the vast majority of our seafood is shipped off to countries like China--and most of the seafood we eat is imported from those same countries, which doesn't seem to make a lot of sense. Using three examples--New York oysters, Gulf shrimp, and Alaskan sockeye salmon--Greenberg illustrates how this came about and what the implications for it are. We constantly decimate our coastlines and the salt marshes that comprise them in order to create more land for agriculture and more desirable places for the rich to vacation, all the while destroying the habitats and breeding grounds of local sea food; we did this to such a degree in New York City that it's actually illegal to eat the New York oysters that survive there, because the water is so polluted that eating said oysters can make people sick. And we do this even though creating an environment that can sustain oysters is good for the city: oysters filter water and create reefs that can help lessen the effects of of storm surges, like the one that decimated so much of the city in Hurricane Sandy. On the shrimp front, we allow industry, such as big oil, to pollute the Gulf of Mexico and destroy our coast and the shrimp that live and breed there, and mess with the Mississippi River until it's basically just shooting washed-off fertilizers from big agriculture into the Gulf and creating a deoxygenated dead zone where nothing can live. And in Alaska, on Bristol Bay, the largest salmon run in the world with some of the best salmon there is, we ponder letting a huge mine destroy the area because it offers a faster payout than fishing does. And for some reason, we don't see most of this as a problem.


Greenberg really digs into why this is; why we're blind to the problem of seafood because it doesn't present itself as a problem. After all, I can still grab as many pounds of shrimp as I want from the grocery store, so why should the problem of the Gulf come to my mind? Does it really matter that the shrimp I'm buying come from farms that are wreaking similar havoc in Asia, and that the shrimp are likely heavily dosed with antibiotics to avoid the diseases that can decimate harvests? Well...it probably does. And if it doesn't, it should. I can very easily see this book being painted as a tool of the "liberal media" by conservatives, who, as Greenberg points out, tend to see any attempt at regulation as an interference with their god-given rights to do whatever the hell they want, and screw anyone who disagrees. But the fact of the matter is, the way that we treat seafood isn't sustainable, and if I want to be able to enjoy a big piece of salmon years down the road, our attitudes toward it have to change. This isn't really a new idea, but it is an important one that nonetheless seems to get lost in the shuffle, and the more it's brought up, the more potential there is for people to listen and enact change.


This is a great book, one that uses a few solid examples in conjunction to make a much larger and powerful point, and one that brings in a lot of the people who are actually, personally affected in order to illustrate how the issues in the industry can drag us down. It doesn't focus on just one geographic area, instead showing that our abuse of seafood truly is a national problem, from New York to Louisiana to Alaska, and that we need to consider the bigger picture of how we view seafood if we're going to fix it. Because of the subject matter, it's a book that can come across a little preachy at times, which is typical for books like this and somewhat unavoidable, and Greenberg gets all cheery at the end in what I think was an attempt to avoid blatant fearmongering. Still, after reading this one, I know one thing: I'll probably be looking into where my seafood comes from a little more closely from now on.


4 stars out of 5.

[Colleen · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was a really enlightening book, especially the chapter about oysters. My only complaints were that the oyster section was so engaging, the others less so, and I would have liked more information about how I as a consumer can help make the change to local seafood. That aside, there is so much great information in this book that it should be required reading for anyone who eats seafood or wants to eat seafood regularly!

[Ian · Rating 3 out of 5]

Fun and informative, but I basically object to the author's decision to frame the issue in nationalist / jingoist terms. Full of "those foreigners are taking OUR FISH that WE SHOULD EAT for STRONG AMERICAN BRAINS" arguments, which is pretty weird.

I understand that the dude is trying to persuade a segment of the population that he thinks will respond to that framing, but it ain't for me.

Neat stuff about oysters, though.