The Ancient Ways of the Mumbai Fish Market

Procuring fish in the modernized world has become a relatively painless process. All it takes is a walk down the fish aisle for a plastic wrapped boneless skinless filet of some poor ocean creature on a styrofoam platter. Or there’s the option of IQF products, each piece frozen and individually wrapped. It’s so far removed from the fish procurement process I grew up with in Mumbai.

I come from a small coastal town of Mumbai named Bandra West, known for its thriving fishing industry. Nestled among the towering overpriced ocean facing highrises, you still can find the villages of the Kolis, the folk from the fishing communities, and the original inhabitants of the city. They live in humble shanty-like dwellings, surrounded by antiquated fishing paraphernalia and continue the practice in the ways of their ancestors using rudimentary ocean vessels powered by nothing but oars and human effort.

The fishing practices used seem to be pretty similar to what you read about in the bible. Every day, fishing boats are rowed ashore, nets teaming with little fish wriggling and jumping about for their last gasps of air. The Koli ladies line up to fill their baskets as the fish gets sorted based on size and type. The fish is then sold on the streets of the local markets by the Koli ladies, hawked at the top of their lungs. I accompanied my mother to the Chimbai fish market during my recent visit to Mumbai, and got to experience this first hand.

This is the kind of market that requires stepping between the piles of baskets and dodging the stray cats looking for scraps and braving a ripe stench in order to get your fish. Years of experience have taught my mother how to spot the freshest fish, how to look for the bright red color of the gills, how to look at the eyes to make sure they are still bright. The slightest hint of cloudiness indicates that the fish has been sitting out for a while. After a solid hour of intense haggling, she emerged triumphantly, arms laden with the freshest catch, which she proceeded to take home to scale, gut, clean and turn into the most heavenly fried fish and fish curry. Just like she used to when I was a little boy.

The best fish curry is made with fish on the bone. The head, tail and carcass provide the stock for the most satisfying flavor. That’s where the life giving gelatin comes from. Anything else is a poor and watery excuse, sadly something we have all come to accept. I am not proud in admitting that my fish game leaves a lot to be desired. I have fallen upon the easy option of pre-butchered product, and it came at the cost of true authentic flavor. These choices have collectively resulted in our oceans being overfished, causing an extinction of species at an alarming rate.

Something has to change! I want to take a page from the wise prophet Michael Jackson, by starting with the man in the mirror. It’s time I start paying attention to how I approach fish. It's time to find a local fishmonger; one who supports sustainable practices. It’s time to learn how to cook smaller fish at the lower end of the food chain; mackerel, sardines, smelt and anchovy. It’s time to go back to the old practices of cooking fish on the bone, because therein lies the secret to the most delicious nourishing food humans have ever known.

It’s time to call Mom now, and ask for advice and for some of her recipes.