Seattle – I almost got clocked by a king salmon recently. I learned my lesson and stood back from the flying mussels, oysters and halibut. Who knows when they would start tossing around the swordfish?
This is the wildest seafood market in the world, a place where fishmongers will catch your fish right before your eyes – and if you’re lucky they won’t drop it on the floor. Here at the Pike Place Market, throwing food is perfectly acceptable. And social skills are a prerequisite.
They have to be. The Pike Place Market gets about 10 million visitors a year, tying it with the Seattle Center and certain grunge clubs as Seattle’s biggest attraction.
The market sits under a green awning stretching along four downtown blocks on Pike Place high above the Puget Sound’s Elliott Bay. On a clear day, you can see the spectacular mountains of the Olympic Peninsula beyond. In other words, no one in Seattle has seen the mountains since 1972.
But the Pike Place Market has so many other things to see. A total of 240 businesses, 190 craftspeople and 120 farmers set up shop on five levels of subterranean commerce. Started in 1907 by farmers protesting the larcenous “commission houses” once near Pioneer Square, it is the oldest and largest public market in the U.S.
You can get anything you want and other items you didn’t care existed unless you’ve always wanted to buy giant crab legs along with a brand-new tattoo. Or you can loiter with some of the 240 street performers and, um, “musicians.”
As I approached the market from Pine Street, I passed a blond hippie playing something indecipherable on a beat-up piano with an “Impeach Bush” sticker plastered on the side. I was then greeted by some clown in a white Ben Hogan playing a harmonica and a guitar simultaneously while twirling a hula hoop and singing a twisted song about a love that went south.
Don’t worry, pal. I don’t have to ask you why.
The main attraction at Pike Place is seafood, and four companies compete tooth and fin for your dollar. Your dollar goes a lot further here than most places too. It should. Seattle is the gateway to the world for Alaskan seafood, and shipping costs into its port are a fraction of what they are to other regions.
“That was probably swimming within the last 24 hours,” said Jon Daniels, owner of City Fish Company, as he pointed to a long row of Alaskan sockeye salmon and the gaping maws where their heads once were.
Priced at only $5.99 a pound, sockeye is only one of the bargains I found cruising the market: whole rainbow trout $3.99 a pound. Peel-n-eat prawns $3.99 a pound. Whole cooked Dungeness crab $5.99 a pound. King salmon $14.99 a pound.
As I grew hungry, Daniels stopped customers as they walked by.
“Welcome to Seattle!” “If you have any questions, just let me know, OK?” “Has everyone been helped today?”
Daniels, a Ketchikan, Alaska, native, bought City Fish 11 years ago after years as a commercial fisherman chasing herring from Ketchikan to Nome and salmon through Bristol Bay and Kodiak.
“I wouldn’t have bought this place if I wasn’t gregarious,” Daniels said. “My first question when they’re applying is, ‘Are you going to be able to handle the crowds of people down here? Are you going to be able to handle these questions?”‘
OK, here’s one: What exactly does this sign mean: “We will clean your crab for free”? Actually, don’t answer that.
Here’s another: What’s with the flying fish? At Pike Place Fish Market, a bunch of guys in orange overalls were screaming: “$4 SALMON HEAD!” “ROCKS AND MUSSELS!” and something oddly similar to the sound you make when a shark bites off your left hand. Meanwhile, they sent seafood flying over the counter from distances similar to some of the Seattle SuperSonics’ 3-pointers.
“We throw things because we’re here 12 hours a day, and I don’t want to walk all the way around there,” said Jeff Kirkpatrick, sporting a giant round earring that formed a quarter-size hole in his earlobe. I recall seeing a similar fashion statement among Masai tribesmen.
Twelve hours is a lot of throwing, considering Walt Compare, owner of Pure Food Fish Market, says he sells about 250 tons of seafood a year. And seemingly, if it swims, Pike Place Market has it. How about a moonfish, a big, round fish with giant dorsal fins? “Funkiest fish you’ve ever seen,” said Daniels who figures he sells 50 items.
Or how about sturgeon? Mako shark? Or a ling cod, similar to a barracuda only uglier, if that’s possible? Or geoduck clams, giant Puget Sound clams popular in sushi bars?
And don’t let the fishmongers’ appearances scare you. They know their fish. When they’re not selling, they’re explaining. Kirkpatrick, a Coquille, Ore., native, was a chef for years before he joined Pike Street three years ago and he gave me his favorite recipe.
“Alaskan white king salmon, baked with a little spicy pepper jelly which I buy right down the hallway,” he said. “Just bake it about 16-20 minutes. Three minutes before it’s done, I’ll throw in some jalapeño-based, hot lime pepper jelly. Then I’ll eat it accompanied with fresh vegetables, rice and soy sauce.
“It’s awesome.”
I settled for a pound of vacuum-packed smoked king salmon from City Fish for $18. Two days later, it made a major splat when I threw it on my kitchen counter next to the Wheat Thins and a bottle of pinot grigio.
Staff writer John Henderson covers sports and writes about the food he eats on the road. He can be reached at 303-820-1299 or jhenderson@denverpost.com.
