How did you learn the ropes when you moved up from the counter position?
Steve [Gadaleto] just started bringing me to the market and teaching me in his own way. He was well respected down there, and it was easy to get good fish because people knew you couldn’t mess with Steve. But at the same time, I had to earn my own relationship with them; it’s all credit and relationship-driven and that takes time. Steve literally grew up down there with people who grew up down there; it’s all people who have known each other forever.
What attributes are necessary to do your work?
You have to be able to be down in the market and not be easily offended. And you have to deal with a lot of different personalities in the course of a day. Learning not to take things personally… dealing with chefs as much as I do, you’re dealing with an artist, really, and it can be very trying. It’s a difficult job being a chef, and the people they yell at are the purveyors. And you have to be able to think outside of the box. You’ve got to be the solutions to the problems. You can’t always call a plumber; it’s just too expensive. So you have to have a broad skill set and whittle it down to what’s essential; prioritizing the day.
What makes for a really bad day?
We’re coming out of a couple of weeks where the weather was so bad there was no product around; that makes for a very bad day. We don’t like to tell people ‘no,’ but at the same time, I wouldn’t bring in a fish that’s not the right quality or not sustainably harvested. And if there’s two feet of ice on where they’re supposed to be getting the mussels, it makes it difficult.
And a good day?
On the flip side, some days you’re able to find the piece of fish that a couple wants for their wedding, and you make their day. There are those little victories, where you know that you’ve put out a good product and that people enjoyed it. That’s all it is; then in the next moment it’s something else.
Is there a memorable day that stands out, good or bad?
I remember one day coming up the West Side Highway and the back door to my truck popped open, and a 150-pound wheel of swordfish fell out. I didn’t find out until I was two blocks down the road. So I pulled over, and literally ran back, and it’s this huge chunk; I can’t even lift it. We’re talking about $1,500 of fish that I need to get back to my truck. People are swerving around it, and there are police officers everywhere just looking at me. And meanwhile, I need that fish. So I take my shirt off, wrap the fish in my shirt, and then this guy pulls over in a beat-up Buick. He says, “Put it in my trunk! Put it in my trunk!” And he didn’t seem to be intent on helping me; I think he just wanted the fish. And there’s no way on Earth I’m putting $1,500 of fish in this guy’s trunk. So I pay the guy $20 to let me put it on top of the trunk, and I walk behind it for two blocks, holding it until we get back to my truck. That’s a day I’ll never forget.
That’s really an “only in New York” story! What is a “wheel” of swordfish?
When a big fish comes into the market, anything superfluous gets scrapped, so all the fins and the head come off… imagine a torpedo shape about three-and-a-half feet in diameter and cut a cross-section chunk of that; the bone is in the center and they call it a “wheel of sword.” It’s just this massive hunk of flesh.
How has the job changed since you started?
The biggest change has been our retail customers. When I started, I don’t think anyone cared whether their fish was farm-raised or wild caught. The customer has become much more educated over time, and it’s made us have to be educated and try to stay ahead of things. We’ve been labeling fish ‘wild’ or ‘farm-raised’ for years. We’ve been doing ‘country of origin’ labeling now for some time; that’s a big difference from when I started.
Do you see yourself at the same job ten years from now?
Yes, it’s our business and we’ve invested so much time in it it’s hard to think about doing something else. We’re in it for the long haul.
What advice would you give someone going into this field?
To be honest, I don’t think I’d advise anyone to go into this field, because I don’t know where the industry is going to be in 30 years. Not that the fish won’t be there, but I think there’s going to be a lot more direct-to-consumer sales and these major companies are going to eat up a lot of the wholesale operations. Hopefully, Stacie’s kids will work here when they go to high school or college — they’re 12 and 13 now — but I think the business is going to look a lot different in 15 years. If someone wants to get into the food industry in general, they’ve got to understand that there’s a lot of work here and it’s not glamorous. It’s squeezing dimes out of nickels.
What do you mean by direct to consumer sales when it comes to fish?
I think there won’t be smaller companies like us, who can still get product directly from the harvesters. Chefs will purchase directly from the boat and for the retail stuff, I think there’ll be more of a CSA approach to it, which they’re doing in the city already a little bit. We’re the middleman, and the middle men are losing their jobs in this country.
Is there anything about you that people would be surprised to know?
I have had two girls in my lifetime stand next to me at a concert and be serenaded by “Weird Al” Yankovic… removed in time by about 15 years.
Okay, you have to tell me that story.
When I was a kid, maybe eight or nine years old, we went to see Weird Al in concert someplace on Long Island, and he came offstage and put his arm around my friend and me and sang a song to her. Then about 12 years ago, my girlfriend at the time got me tickets to see Weird Al over at the Civic Center — not that I’m a huge Weird Al nerd, or anything — and again, he came offstage, sat down on her lap and put his arm around me and sang her a song. I’ve only seen him twice, so I can say that 100 percent of the time that I’ve seen Weird Al in concert, he’s serenaded the girl I was with. Which is pretty weird.
