Ming Tsai has earned his reputation as one of Massachusetts’ finest chefs over the past quarter-century. His East-West-influenced restaurant Blue Ginger has been thrilling guests’ palates since it opened in Wellesley in 1988. The James Beard Foundation crowned him “Best Chef Northeast” in 2002, and Zagat Restaurant Guide rates Blue Ginger as the “2nd Most Popular Boston Restaurant.” He was the Massachusetts “Restaurateur of the Year” in 2005.
Last week, he was labeled a criminal.
In the 23 October Boston Sunday Globe exposé titled “On the Menu, But Not On Your Plate,” Tsai was implicated in a widespread bait-and-switch form of fraud known as species substitution, in which inexpensive species are deceitfully labeled as something different, typically something more expensive or sought-after. Independent and chain restaurants all over Massachusetts were identified for transgressions, some for subbing tilapia as red snapper and escolar as tuna. The DNA-sleuthing story, which we’ve seen many times over, spotlighted economic integrity issues that have plagued the seafood and restaurant industries for years.
Tsai’s case deserves a nuanced analysis. Blue Ginger’s signature USD 41 dish, which features Alaska sablefish, has always been listed on his menu as “butterfish,” a name that the fish certainly lives up to with its silky rich texture, luxurious flavor and correspondingly hefty price tag. Tsai said it’s the “best fish money can buy.” Lots of people who’ve eaten genuine Alaska sablefish would likely agree.
But the Globe said Ming Tsai’s menu was off base — that butterfish is actually something caught off the coast of Rhode Island, a $2-a-pound species either used as bait or in spreads commonly found in Jewish delicatessens, “not upscale dining establishments” like Blue Ginger. Eight species can be legally called butterfish, but sablefish isn’t one of them, according to the U.S. Food and Drug Administration’s list of acceptable market names.
Tsai is quoted as saying “butterfish” is a commonly used name that simply sounds better, as it “rolls off the tongue.” He added that he always tells customers it’s Alaska sablefish when they ask what “butterfish” is, that he chose it as a replacement for the overfished Chilean sea bass, that he’s all about promoting environmentally responsible options like line-caught sablefish, and that he pays close to USD 20 a pound for it — these facts did not make it into the original story.
Blue Ginger, like so many restaurants around the world, was using the vernacular or common name for sablefish, but not an FDA-approved one. But sablefish is rarely called sablefish. Ask just about anybody who deals in the West Coast fish trade about sablefish and they’ll probably say, “You mean black cod?” The FDA says “black cod” is not an acceptable market name for sablefish but the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration’s Fisheries Service FishWatch website has “black cod” in parenthesis, right next to the word sablefish in the header for that species (click here to see for yourself). Confusing?
I spoke with a still clearly upset chef on Friday morning, the day after the Globe printed a clarification of his comments and his vow to change the menu name. The dish in question is now “Sake-Miso Marinated Sablefish (aka Butterfish).” But he said any implications of his dishonesty are unwarranted.
“By placement [of the story on the front page, second paragraph] and who I am, the sensationalism made it look like I was one of the people who was deceitful and was cheating,” said Tsai. “I agree with the premise of the article; it’s absolutely wrong to cheat. I told [the reporter] all of this. Why would I serve a USD 20-a-pound fillet and call it by a baitfish name? It was the exact opposite of what the point of the article was.”
The chef’s unfortunate saga is a case study in dealing with bad press in the 21st Century. Whether the negativity is authentic or not, restaurants are left scrambling to respond to false negative reviews online all the time. It was the social media reaction to the Globe story that left Tsai “flabbergasted,” as hundreds of people took to Facebook and Twitter to criticize his ethics. Thankfully, he has the same ways to respond to them, but he admitted that it’s an uphill climb.
“People called me a criminal. They said they’d call the Attorney General to press charges. A priest where I went to school at Yale wrote to me, saying, ‘You realize that when you graduated from Yale you agreed to adhere to a code of ethics?’ That was a doozy, and I look forward to calling him back,” said Tsai. “There were literally hundreds [of responses]. I had to get my name cleared. No lawsuits — no one wins in a lawsuit.”
While seafood names can be confusing, let Tsai’s story be a lesson. Menus are essentially legal documents now, so don’t be afraid to put as much information on there as is necessary, including the FDA-approved name and, as some would argue, even the Latin species name (sablefish is Anoplopoma fimbria, in case you were wondering). You can never really be too careful — or too honest.
For more about Ming Tsai and his experience, look for the NetWorking interview with him in the December issue of SeaFood Business.
