You Shad Me At Hello

"It's such a fishy fish. Why honor that?"

by Carolyn Wyman

Fishtown's Shad Fest is only a couple of days away from being a two-year local institution, but Paul Kimport says his idea of fêting the fish — with music, crafts, historical talks, educational displays and a booth actually serving the stuff — initially had lots of critics.

"'It's such a fishy fish. Why honor that?'" people asked Kimport, the Fishtown Area Business Association president who serves shad at his Standard Tap and Johnny Brenda's. His reply? Because shad is why Fishtown is called Fishtown. From the 1700s through the early 1900s, catching shad as they made their way up the Delaware for springtime spawning was the neighborhood's main industry. "This fish is central to the history of Fishtown," says Kimport. "As a foodie, I like connecting to culture through food."

Overfishing and pollution eventually reduced swarms of shad in local waters to a trickle. Still, to many Philadelphians, spring is not spring without a taste of this oily, bony member of the herring family.

"People started asking about shad at the beginning of March," says Oyster House's Sam Mink, the third generation of Mink family restaurateurs to serve the fish. Typically, these people "remember it from their childhoods." Younger customers who order it are asked if they like bluefish. "If they say they hate full-flavored fish, we'll steer them in another direction. There's no point in wasting good fish."

First-time shad roe orderers are rarer. "It's a sack of fish eggs, which is going to seem weird unless you grew up on it," says Mink. Especially the way Oyster House cooks it, which is only partway (though Mink's chefs will do it well-done upon request).

Oyster House is typical of the venerable eateries that serve shad and shad roe, says Sam D'Angelo, CEO/shad pusher at Philly seafood wholesaler Samuels & Son. Young chefs at trendy places "don't know what to do with it," says D'Angelo, recalling one who skinned a shad fillet and was left with a pile of flakes. The short trip from nearby East Coast rivers that still boast commercially viable shad catches, like Virginia (or, later in the fish's three-month run, Connecticut), makes shad "a great value," D'Angelo says. Still, the short season and limited supply area (bad weather could mean no shad for days, preprinted menus be damned), coupled with the fish's strong taste, make some restaurants wary.

Kimport shares their concern about supply. At last year's Shad Fest, it took him only two hours to run out of the 50 pounds of shad he was able to get to make sandwiches.

Of course, many of his Fest customers were shad first-timers. This year's shad line should be shorter now that more people know what they're in for.

(cwyman@citypaper.net)

Fishtown Shad Fest, Sat., April 24, 11 a.m.-6 p.m., free, Penn Treaty Park, 1341 N. Delaware Ave., 215-427-0350, ext. 120, fishtownshadfest.org.