![Praise for Catching Hell Allen Ricca is constantly exploring new products and - photo 1](/uploads/posts/book/408165/images/cover.jpg)
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Praise for Catching Hell
Allen Ricca is constantly exploring new products and discovering new tastes, as well as revisiting and satisfying old ones. One thing is constant: his curiosity and dedication to quality food (sourcing) as well as his unyielding commitment to our industrys supply chain is unmatched. I am proud to work with him.
Erik Sun, Owner, PursuitFarms Wagyu, executive chef Intercrew LA
I have known and worked with Allen and his family for over 25 years. This endlessly entertaining book perfectly captures his personality, and gives an unflinching look at the chaotic process that brings seafood from oceans around the world to restaurant kitchens around the corner.
M.J. Alam, Partner and Executive Chef Limani Rockefeller Center NYC
Everyone has something to learn from Catching Hellwhether you are interested in seafood traceability, ethical business practices, or just getting the most out of your seafood order.
Morgan Chow, scientist for California Natural Resources Agency
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Copyright 2022 by Allen Ricca and Joe Muto
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief excerpts in critical reviews or articles. All inquiries should be addressed to Skyhorse Publishing, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018.
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Skyhorse and Skyhorse Publishing are registered trademarks of Skyhorse Publishing, Inc., a Delaware corporation.
Visit our website at www.skyhorsepublishing.com.
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.
Cover design by Brian Peterson
Cover image by Getty Images
Print ISBN: 978-1-5107-6970-0
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-5107-6971-7
Printed in the United States of America
For Caylin
AR
For Max
JM
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
Yeezy & Me
THE MOOD IN the dining room that night was electric.
And that was before Kanye showed up.
So when the famously eccentric millionaire rapper appeared at the hostess stand with a small entourage (but without his reality star wife), the vibe quickly went from electric to absolutely crackling.
This was a few years back: pre-COVID, so the restaurant was jammed, with every tightly packed table full; it was also well before Wests bizarre flirtation with Trumpism, so the hip downtown Manhattan diners were, at the time, actually pretty happy to see him.
Not that any of them showed obvious signs of excitement, of course. They were way too cool for that. There was some nudging and murmuring, and a noticeable uptick in people subtly pulling out their phones taking selfies, angled just-so, to make sure the hip-hop legend would appear in the background. But no one did anything embarrassing like jump up and ask for an autograph. (Even if they had, the entourages hulking security guard, who appeared to possess both the size and demeanor of an NFL nose tackle, probably would have intercepted them.)
I caught the eye of the manager as he marched toward my table, on his way to the front to greet the VIP. Id known him a while, and he was a pro. A celeb wasnt going to ruffle his feathers one bit. This establishment was the type of perennial hot spot that had a fairly steady rotation of famous clientele, counting people like Jon Bon Jovi, Heidi Klum, Kelly Ripa, and Sarah Jessica Parker as regulars. He smiled at me and shook his head slightly as he whisked past. Can you believe this shit?
Just another day on the job for him.
After Kanye and his entourage were ushered to a banquette in the back corner of the restaurant and settled in, the dining room calmed down a little. People still craned their necks periodically to catch a glimpse, but there wasnt much to see at this point. Just a very rich guy and his friends ordering bottles of champagne and mountains of shellfish and sushi rolls.
Now Im not going to pretend that Im completely immune to the charms of celebrity. I admit I snuck a glance or two myself. But that night I was actually much more interested in the food that was going to his table.
Because I knew that a good chunk of what the restaurant was serving was absolute shit.
And I knew this because I was the one who had given it to them.
My name is Allen Ricca. I sell fish.
And not just any fishthe best goddamn seafood on the Eastern Seaboard of the United States, if not the entire country. But that quality, as you can imagine, comes at a price. Many of my customers are willing to pay that price, because theyre passing the cost onto their customers anyway, at a healthy two-or three-fold markup.
But this restaurantthis celeb-magnet, gossip-page-fixture in the most fashionable neighborhood in New York Citywasnt content to take that reasonable profit margin.
No, they didnt want to make back two or three times their money. They were greedy. They wanted ten to twenty.
Let me give you an example. One of the products Id been supplying to this restaurant is shrimp. When they first started buying from me, they were still establishing their relationship, and they only wanted the best stuff: beautiful wild-caught shrimp, shipped in from the sparkling waters off the coast of Mexico. They paid me a pretty penny for it, but of course then they turned around and put it on the menu for an even prettier penny: like $25 for a 5-piece shrimp cocktail, or $8 for a single sushi nigiri.
This restaurant built their reputation on my shrimp and the other high-quality products they were serving. But once theyd established their culinary cred and cultivated their ultra-cool, well-heeled clientele, they turned on a dime. They didnt want the best stuff anymore.
They only wanted the cheapest.
No more wild shrimp from Mexico. They started asking instead for the farmed shrimp from India.
I mean, this shrimp is edible, sure. Its not going to kill you or anything. (After all, Im not in the business of poisoning people.) But it certainly isnt what I would consider good. Its bland. Virtually tasteless. The only reason I even keep it in stock is that its insanely popular with a lot of my customers that own Chinese takeouts. You know these places if youve ever been to New York, where they line every avenue: small storefronts with an ordering window, maybe a table or two. Definitely no celebs filling those tables.
Anyway, I sell the farmed Indian shrimp to these takeout restaurants for 30 to 40 cents per shrimp. And dont get me wrongits plenty tasty in a kung pao, or battered, deep-fried, and smothered with bright red sweet and sour sauce. (In those cases, its relative blandness is actually a virtue, allowing it to play nice with all those other strong flavors.) So while its not bad, its definitely not something youd expect to get served at a high-end restaurant, especially when you, the customer, are on the hook for something like $5 to $8 per shrimp.
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