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Blow Toads
For
years now, we have been looking for a signature fish to feature at Something
Different. We are well known for our dry-rubbed and smoke-cooked salmon
served with mustard-dill sauce (we are now using cold-water salmon from the
Faroe Islands, which are raised without any antibiotics or dyes), but we also
wanted a local fish to fry or broil. Croaker, spot and perch are local, but
are boney and inconsistent in size, availability and price. Catfish are too
ordinary for us and most are farm-raised elsewhere. Pollock, cod, whiting and
haddock are popular restaurant fare but are all rather insipid and certainly
not local.
I
recently discovered that, after virtually disappearing for about thirty
years, blow toads are making a comeback and are available commercially in
limited quantities. Blow toads, though little known, are local and are
imminently edible in spite of their name: They are undisputedly the sweetest,
mildest, and many think the most succulent and best tasting fish in the
Chesapeake Bay region. They are also easy to prepare and to eat, as there are
no bones to contend with except for the backbone, and they are definitely Something
Different.
When
threatened they suck in water (or air if out of the water) and puff up so
that they are too big for most predators to handle. Kids love to scratch
their bellies so that they blow up like a balloon, and if dropped on the deck
they can bounce right overboard. Blow toads are not to be confused with the
ugly and slimy mud toad (oyster cracker), or with other puffer fish such as
the local burrfish, or with toxic Southern Puffers, or with the deadly
poisonous Fugu fish of Japan. There are no toxins in the meat of the Northern
Puffer, but the skin, liver and row should be avoided just to be on the safe
side. Northern
Puffers are bottom-dwellers found near-shore and in bays and estuaries all
along the East Coast from northern Florida to Newfoundland. They are found in
the Chesapeake Bay region from early spring to autumn and they winter in
deeper waters offshore. They spawn from May to August along the shallows,
depositing their eggs on firm substrate. Males guard the eggs until they
hatch. Like flounder, they prefer a hard sandy bottom. When I was young and
toads were plentiful, we fished for them and for flounder just up-river from
Buoy 8 on the edge of the shelf off of Beach Creek using peeler-crabs or
bloodworms for bait. They will bite on practically anything, but with their
small mouths and sharp teeth they are masters at stealing bait. We used a
fairly small (#4) hook with a long shank so they would not bite through the
leader.
Plentiful
during the Ô40s Ô50s and Ô60s, blow toads were unintentionally caught by the
truckload in pound nets, flounder nets and haul seines. Since they were a
by-catch and no market had been developed (it was hard to interest
uninitiated consumers in anything called a toad) they were often spread on
farm fields for fertilizer. Locals loved them, but could only eat so many, so
they were eventually marketed nationally as Sea Squabs or Chicken of the Sea.
Colonial Williamsburg, for example, featured Sea Squabs as their signature
seafood delicacy in their restaurants until toads practically disappeared in
the late Ô70s. There
is little agreement in the scientific or fishery communities as to why
Northern Puffers disappeared so suddenly and dramatically. Fish populations
are naturally cyclical and the cycles typically last for decades. Rockfish,
croaker and flounder all suffered significant population decreases during the
same general time period. Other factors cited include overfishing, climatic
events (especially the severe droughts and exceptionally cold winters of 1977
and 1980), and toxic red tides and anoxic conditions associated with
eutrophication and warm waters. Northern
Puffers are starting to return now, but are still hard to come by — partly because of changes in the fishing industry: Haul-seines
are a thing of the past and there are very few pound nets set, and then only
in early spring (before puffers arrive) to catch bunkers for crab-pot bait;
and flounder nets are required to have a larger mesh and no longer catch blow
toads in large numbers. Some watermen are now ÒgoinÕ toadinÕÓ — intentionally catching toads in peeler pots baited with
crab scraps and selling them for premium prices. Once
we decided to make the Northern Puffer our signature fish, we needed to
decide what we would call them. Most restaurants and seafood venders around
here sell them to the public as sugar toads or sugar bellies. I would
certainly never call them Sea Squabs or Chicken of the Sea (abysmal
abominations dreamed up by some misguided public relations expert). I voted
for blow toads because that is what local watermen call them and what I was
brought up with.
Jimmy already thinks
that I am somewhat unhinged (he actually told people that I was crazy)
presumably because, without any background in the restaurant business, I am
serving real food in an old country store stuck out in the middle of nowhere — and itÕs working! I called Jimmy and told
him what we were doing and he yelled ÒDonÕt you dare!Ó I had visions of Gollum
saying, ÒNo! ItÔs mine — all mine!Ó For those who donÕt know, Jimmy is a renegade
chef of the first magnitude: Though classically trained, he is a minimalist
who prepares heritage foods simply so that the food is the star of the show:
Sauces, seasonings and preparation only highlight inherent qualities. He is
passionate — make that fanatical — about the quality, freshness,
wholesomeness and authenticity of what he serves and was a pioneer of the
Òfarm to tableÓ movement. Jimmy became an ambassador for the Puffer when he
operated Windows on Urbanna Creek. Some local watermen brought him a bucket
of toads saying ÒHere ya go, Bunky — try these.Ó Jimmy had never
encountered blow toads and had to ask what he was supposed to do with them.
That evening he and his staff cooked and finished off the whole bucket. Jimmy
was hooked and soon had sugar toads on the menu and was featuring them in
chefÕs competitions and elegant soirŽes. He even named his
restaurant consulting company SugarToad. Several years after closing the Frog
and the Redneck, Jimmy opened a classy restaurant outside of Chicago named
SugarToad. After getting the restaurant established and training the staff,
he sold out and moved back to Richmond. He recently helped his daughter,
Jenna, establish her own vegetarian and vegan restaurant on Cary Street named
Fresca on Addison. Jimmy then acquired the building that formerly housed
Double TÕs Barbecue, right across Cary Street from the Byrd Theater, and has
been busy converting it into BlowToad (he couldnÕt use his preferred name
SugarToad because of an agreement with the current owners of the Illinois
restaurant). BlowToad
is scheduled to open in early January and Jimmy plans to serve toads as an
appetizer when available. Jimmy told me that he often has to instruct
customers on the proper way to eat them: The uninitiated will usually try to
start from the end like a corn dog and consequently bite through the central
backbone, or try to be cultured and use a knife and fork — leaving the sweetest meat behind. Just pick them up with
your fingers like you would a chicken drumstick and nibble from the sides as
you would an ear of corn, then suck the last sweet, tender morsels from
between the bones.
Serve
with some form of cornbread — we make spoonbread at home and
hoecakes at the store. The flavor is delicate, so if you must use a sauce,
make it mild and un-assertive. And to those who refuse to taste blow toads
because of the name, I have only one thing to say: You have a personal
problem — do yourself a favor and GET OVER IT! ©
Dan Gill - Published in Pleasant Living
January – February Õ12 Something Different Country Store and Deli More Blurbs
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