I have visited the Sunshine State regularly over the past five decades and I have developed a strong affinity for a wide spectrum of local seafood. The list is long and distinguished, yet there are favorites . . . grouper, red and mangrove snapper, spiny lobster (although not as large or as tasty as a fresh Maine lobster), pompano, snook, redfish, and Spanish mackerel. And who can overlook the Florida stone crab, delicious with lime and sweet mustard when in season between October and May, or the local Gulf of Mexico oysters and Cedar Key clams. I have been eating all of these for years.
Late to the table, however, came mullet. I’m not sure why; perhaps because they swim in schools and can only be caught effectively by cast or seine netting. Floridians and Louisiana Cajuns have long split mullet and roasted them over hickory fires, but they can also be stuffed and baked or pan-fried. Many consider mullet to be a trash fish, like carp and gar, and I, like most folks along the Gulf of Mexico, long thought of them as an oily bait fish since nearly every fish sought by anglers feed on them. How wrong was I?
Mullet spawn offshore during late fall and winter, with small young mullet entering the food-rich inshore waters in the spring where they begin to school. Being filter feeders, their diet is mainly small crustaceans and insects, graduating to river plant life. Florida mullet are culturally, as well as ecologically important as the mature fish help keep the river bottoms and waters clean by also feeding on decaying leaves and algae.
One often finds large schools moving on the tide, frequently leaping from the water either to escape a predator looking for a tasty treat, or to increase oxygen intake. Some also say that mullet jump to let the others know where they are. I quickly learned that one could not readily catch then on a hook and line although some folks try using canned corn kernels or dough balls, the same baits I used to catch carp when I was a kid. So I was satisfied to watch the mullet swim by my parents’ dock, leaping high into the air and falling again with a loud splash while I turned my attention to other quarry.
The presence of mullet in a river can be a harbinger of larger predators lurking nearby. When pursued, schools of mullet can be seen near the surface, their dorsal fins cutting patterns across the river. I would cast my bait or lure behind the school hoping to attract whatever was chasing it. When not being chased, I would drop a bait into the middle of a school and let it sink to the bottom in the hope that a larger fish might be cruising below.
I first learned about mullet when visiting coastal South Carolina back in the early 1960s. At the time cut mullet was considered to be an ideal bait to entice redfish, flounder, red drum, and mackerel although one might occasionally find whole mullet at the local seafood market, or even on the menu at some local restaurant. Why would anyone want to eat a baitfish you ask? Many South and North Carolinians have long had a hankering for striped mullet served as BBQ, stewed or in chowder, pan-fried, or grilled over charcoal.
Native Americans had been roasting the plentiful mullet since before European settlers arrived on the Carolina shores in the late 16th century. Just a century ago Carolina farmers, having completed their late summer and early autumn harvests, would travel to the shore during the inshore mullet migration, known as "mullet blows," to net the fish. They would then be salted for local consumption and for the commercial trade. Mullet roe, liver, and gizzards (the only fish with such an organ) were also much prized. So I knew about mullet early on, but I had yet to taste it.
Mullet grilled over charcoal is of particular interest. The fish is boned – as best as one can bone a mullet since even a well-fileted fish may still contain many tiny bones – yet the scales are left in place to prevent the flesh from drying out during grilling over an open fire. The layer of fat running laterally through the fish keeps the flesh juicy so one should never discard it if grilling. The fat also drips into the fire producing a wonderful smoked flavor although the fish is not smoked in the traditional manner. The oily scales upon completion of the grilling make for some messy eating as I would eventually discover.
I quickly learned that mullet – both smoked and fried – have long been a delicacy along the Gulf coast of the Florida, from the Everglades to the Panhandle. Mullet is also frequently consumed along the Gulf coasts of Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana, yet Texas has not been able to get its head around the idea that mullet is anything but a bait fish. Unfortunately, my discovery of mullet came at a time when its importance and availability were but a fading glimmer of Old Florida. It continued to disappear from menus, replaced with smoked fish dips using other fish not necessarily native to the state. Thankfully, there are still a few places where one can find smoked mullet along the northwestern Gulf coast of Florida; it is not disappearing for good. Striped mullet grow and reproduce rapidly, making them resilient to fishing pressure. Fried mullet is still popular as is mullet chowders and stews made at home. The Florida State Board of Conservation once tried to market canned mullet outside the state in the early '60s, but it never caught on, but it can still be found in some local stores.
Today most mullet in the United States are harvested in Florida and Louisiana; Florida accounts for most of the well-managed commercial catch. The nets used to catch mullet do little if any damage to the natural habitat and there is virtually no wasteful bycatch. Beginning in 1976 and running through until 2019, the small town of Niceville, in the western Florida Panhandle, hosted an annual three-day "Boggy Bayou Mullet Festival" in late October which attracted a wide variety of music acts and artists and featured fried mullet. Although Niceville’s fishing industry once relied substantially on the mullet, it is no longer commercially fished in the area. Last year the town decided to abandon its homage to the mullet due to waning attendance. Today there is still an annual Swansboro Mullet Festival held on the North Carolina coast since 1954 to celebrate the local mullet hauled to shore in nets hooked to tractors. The festival still features fried mullet.
During our last visit to Florida during the Christmas holiday and the early weeks of the new year, I had opportunities to slip away to Cedar Key for some of my favorite Pelican Reef oysters and clams, as well as to make a return trip to Steinhatchee in the hopes of scoring some fresh mullet. It was the height of the mullet season so I was wise to call ahead to see if they were available as they are much in demand and it is a two hour plus trip from Gainesviile to the Big Bend region of Florida’s Gulf coast. Assured there would be enough we headed to Roy’s Restaurant, a Steinhatchee institution since 1969. Nothing fancy, it serves excellent seafood with a wonderful view of the river flowing into the Gulf of Mexico. So we headed to Roy’s for dinner and to watch the sunset. And we were lucky to get there when we did. I was recipient of the last portion of the day’s delivery. It would have been a real shame to return to Gainesville unsatisfied.
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