Steamed, Fried, or Endangered?

Seoul's Joong-Ang Daily newspaper, which comes folded into my morning copy of the International Herald Tribune, seems to have the idea that we can all have our endangered species and eat them, too. For two months running now, the Joong-Ang has printed articles lamenting the depletion of certain marine life, only to then accompany that article with a list of recommended restaurants where the reader might avail him or herself of dishes made with that species.

As this article points out, the city of Ulsan, located on the southeastern coast of Korea, has long been known as "Whale Meat City." Even today, according to the Joong-Ang, the city of Ulsan accounts for 80% of Korea's consumption of whale meat - a dubious honor if you ask me, given that the International Whaling Commission banned commercial whaling in 1986. Make no mistake, though: no whale meat in Ulsan would ever be obtained illegally. That whale meat on the tables of the restaurants? Oh, that whale was dead when we found it.

To avoid illegal trading in whale meat, the authorities are making a last-ditch effort. The Whale Research Center at the National Fisheries Research and Development Institute recently announced that it is offering a 10 million won ($10,670) reward for any sighting of a gray whale, dead or alive, in the area. The gray whale was last seen in the East Sea in 1964. The same institute is also offering 5 million won to anyone with a photograph or videotape of a live gray whale in the sea.

The turmoil over whale meat, however, is not strong enough to overpower the appetite of culinary nerds. Ulsan still attracts busloads of tourists on gourmet trips every year to taste a sample of Korean-style whale meat.

Given that whales and the sighting of them is so rare in the waters near Korea, what does the Joong-Ang Daily decide to do? But, of course: provide you, the reader, with the names, locations and phone numbers of a few restaurants known to serve fine whale entrees. Alternatively, if a person wishes to economize, the Joong-Ang has this recommendation: "A cheaper option is to buy whale meat in Joongang Market in central Ulsan, but be ready to compromise on sanitation."

I initially dismissed the Joong-Ang article on whaling and whale meat as unintended - if irksome - irony on the part of the newspaper, which I've never held in much regard anyway. When it comes to the English-language press in South Korea, though, I've learned not to say that it can't get any worse - because it usually does, somehow, find new ways to further disappoint.

Just last week, in fact, the Joong-Ang published this article about the disappearance of Alaskan pollack (or myeongtae, in Korean) from the waters around Korea, due to overfishing and warming seas.

In the past, the nets of fishermen trawling the eastern shores of Korea brimmed with myeongtae. You could see the fish drying next to the icicles outside houses in rural areas during winter.

But today, all that’s changed.

“Myeongtae? There are no fishing boats here that catch myeongtae,” said Kim Geum-cheol, 50, the captain of the 3.5-ton fishing boat Haegwangho.

“That fish is on the brink of extinction,” he added. “Today we count [myeongtae] in kilos [instead of tons].”

Nowadays, most Alaskan pollack consumed in Korea has to be imported from Japan, Russia and the United States. To be fair, I don't know the condition of the pollack stocks in those countries' waters, but I still have to question the decision of the Joong-Ang to first bemoan the disappearance of pollack from Korean waters and then, at the article's conclusion, provide the names and contact information for six restaurants serving that very fish.

I fully expect the Joong-Ang Daily, for one of their March editions, to dispatch a crack reporter to China for a story on Siberian tigers, in which we'll learn that the entire wild population of this big cat numbers in the hundreds and, for a taste of their meat, you can visit these fine restaurants.