Wild Fish or Farmed? The Shocking Truth About “Clean” Seafood

Smith explains that barramundi has a unique muscle structure with more connective tissue than typical fish like salmon or branzino. The common quick-sear method for fish can either dry it out or leave it chewy. By using parchment paper as a barrier, you can use a cast iron skillet without worrying about the skin adhering and tearing. The paper allows you to lift and check the crispiness easily. He cooked it this way with a friend while holding his sleeping baby, demonstrating the method's ease. The slow, medium-low heat allows the connective tissue to break down, yielding a flaky texture. The technique is generalizable to other fish but is particularly transformative for barramundi. He finishes by flipping and serving with a simple side like olive oil-kale-fennel salad with pine nuts.

Smith learned this technique from high-end sushi chefs who age loin of tuna wrapped in tuna paper, changing the paper daily to dry-age the surface. For frozen fish, the process is similar: the vacuum bag traps melt water, causing sogginess and off-flavors. Removing the fish and wrapping it in absorbent material wicks moisture away while still protecting from direct air exposure. This results in a drier surface, which is better for achieving crispy skin when cooking or a cleaner taste when eating raw. He emphasizes that the goal is cold and dry storage, the opposite of the wet, iced display in grocery stores that creates 'fishy' smells. Even the flash-frozen vacuum bag from Seatopia can be improved by this method for a better texture and taste.

Ben Greenfield shared that he uses Primal Kitchen chili lime mayo on top of king salmon, broils skin-side down for 5-6 minutes, then flips for 90 seconds to get crispy skin. James wholeheartedly endorses this, noting that smothering the exterior with mayo is a classic French technique, and that he's worked with Michelin-star chef Josiah Citroen who did this on whole fish before grilling, creating a protective crust that prevents sticking and adds a savory layer. The method works especially well with sushi-grade fish because you can cook for texture preference rather than safety, preserving the delicate omega-3s and other nutrients that degrade with overcooking. For extra skin crispness, Smith also suggests applying the mayo directly to the skin side before cooking.

Smith explains that when fish oil is isolated and made shelf-stable, it's typically converted to ethyl ester form, which often smells a little rancid and requires liver conversion. Whole fish, on the other hand, contains omega-3s in triglyceride form, which is directly assimilable. The host, Ben Greenfield, agrees and takes fish oil only on days he doesn't eat fish, using a clean source in triglyceride form with rosemary oil as an antioxidant. But Smith emphasizes that if you can eat the living food, you're getting a complex of nutrients—selenium (which binds mercury), vitamin D, protein—that work together. This view doesn't dismiss the established cardiovascular benefits of fish oil in epidemiological studies, but argues that the whole food is superior. Additionally, knowing the exact omega-3 content per serving allows people to hit targets without guessing, and this data is being rolled out on Seatopia packaging.

The FDA requires wild-caught fish intended for raw consumption to be frozen to these specifications to eliminate parasites. Farmed fish are exempt if raised on a diet free of parasites, but Seatopia freezes all their fish to the same standard anyway for maximum safety. Smith explains that parasites enter fish through their diet—crustaceans, bottom feeding, or dead organisms. Since farmed fish are fed pelletized, steam-manufactured feed, there is no live parasite vector. Still, they blast-freeze with high-velocity cold air to pull moisture and heat away quickly, which creates tiny ice crystals that do not damage cell walls as much, preserving the 'sushi restaurant' texture. The rapid freeze also locks in freshness for shipping on dry ice, ensuring that even if the shipment is delayed in warm conditions, the fish stays safe.

Smith acknowledges the inherent paradox of shipping frozen fish with dry ice while advocating sustainability, but argues that frozen logistics are far more efficient than fresh (no airplanes, less styrofoam), and they purchase carbon offsets and plant kelp (20,000 kelp plants last year). He frames every purchase as a vote: if people demand clean, tested, regeneratively raised seafood, the industry will shift. He sees this already working with farms changing their feed based on his company's test results. This consumer-driven change, he believes, can help restore Hawaiian fish pond traditions and scale up low-impact aquaculture worldwide.

Smith explains that over five years of testing thousands of analyte samples, the dominant variable in fish safety and nutrient content is diet. In the wild, fish bioaccumulate whatever is in the water—microplastics, mercury, PCBs—through the food chain. In farming, even net-pen fish in the ocean are fed a controlled pelletized diet, so their exposure to environmental toxins is minimal compared to that from their feed. When a farm switched from low-trophic Peruvian anchoveta meal to local tuna by-product meal (a 'more circular' waste stream), mercury levels spiked to the point that the fish was inappropriate for daily consumption by pregnant women. This demonstrates that even well-intentioned sustainability moves can backfire if the feed's trophic level rises, and that real-time lab feedback can correct it. Smith notes that the ocean is a connected system: microplastics traced to both Asian and North American pollution show up in wild fish, making controlled farming the only way to predictably produce low-toxin, high-nutrient seafood.

Smith argues that fish don't produce omega-3s; they accumulate them from microalgae through the food chain. Humans and fish both depend on dietary DHA from microalgae. Therefore, cutting out the middleman and feeding fish with microalgae oil (grown in fermentation plants) yields high-DHA fillets without the sustainability or contamination concerns of fish meal. His favorite farms, like the Kleta Bay operation, have done complete replacement of fish meal and fish oil with algae-based alternatives. This approach also ensures a more controllable amino acid and fatty acid profile, resulting in predictable nutrient density per serving. The barrier is technological: some pelletized feeds still rely on fish meal for texture or cost, but the trend is toward fish-free formulations. Smith acknowledges that not all farms meet this standard yet, but it's the aspirational benchmark for regenerative aquaculture.

Smith recounted the story of a farm in Central America that switched from Peruvian anchoveta meal to a local MSC-certified tuna by-product meal, believing it was more sustainable and circular. When Seatopia tested the fish, mercury levels had spiked so high that the reference dose for a pregnant woman would be exceeded with daily consumption. The company discontinued the product and shared the results. The farm was surprised and agreed to switch back to the low-trophic diet, and the most recent broodstock run is again on the safer feed. This cycle happened within months, showing that targeted testing can compel real-time changes. Smith says this is faster than most internal industry testing, and is an exciting way to 'clean up' aquaculture from the consumer end.

Smith likens his change to the same ethical tipping point that keeps people from hunting endangered land animals. He notes that it requires the same skills—breath control, stealth, getting close—but the satisfaction now comes from a great photo with a fisheye lens rather than a kill. This shift mirrors his professional conviction that farming fish under controlled conditions is better for the ocean than extracting wild apex predators. He still acknowledges that not all spear fishing has to be trophy-oriented, and smaller, lower-trophic fish can be taken sustainably, but for him personally, the joy is now in observation rather than harvest.