CAVIAR CONUNDRUM – After the caviar rush

© Nichola Fletcher. Published by Financial Times December 31st 2005

My first serious encounter with caviar was when somebody slapped half an inch of it onto a large slice of fresh toast and handed it to me as a peace offering. It worked: I was immediately seduced by those legendary grey pearls, trying in turn to nibble just a few grains and allowing them to burst one by one, then filling my mouth with them for explosions of intense, utterly captivating flavour: sweet essence of the sea of course but with other more complex elements.  Depending on the type of caviar, these can be likened to a hint of walnuts, olives, mature brie, smoked salmon – the essence, I suppose, of that elusive fifth taste 'umami', or deliciousness. Add to that the voluptuous sensation as the caviar releases its buttery secrets and the glamour of eating something so absurdly expensive, and I finally understood why people become so excited about caviar.

In the last few years, alternative types of fish roe have come on to the market, none purporting to be a substitute for real caviar but many pointing out their affordability and sustainability in comparison. They have a point. When the annual licences setting quotas for each of the many countries around the Caspian Sea were issued in October, prices for Caspian caviar rose 35 per cent compared with the year before. Armen Petrossian, president of the leading caviar house in Paris, said ruefully, "It used to be as expensive as gold, now it's almost as expensive as diamonds". But this is part of caviar's allure, of course. Although it has been an everyday part of Russian culture for centuries (it was the same price as butter in the 19th century), once exported it is so expensive that when most people eat it they are buying an exotic dream. And as both the west and the east become richer, demand increases.

This takes its toll on sturgeon populations. The history of man's interaction with sturgeon is a disastrous mixture of greed, altruism, dedication, ingenuity, scandal and corruption in not very equal measures. And the result has been catastrophic for the population. The sturgeon is a splendid, if rather tragic, slow moving relic that has been around for 250 million years longer than man. Of the 25 species, only five or six are relevant to the caviar market but their vast size and delicious, meaty flesh always made them prestigious: Athenaeus mentions a crowned and garlanded one in his 'Banquet of the Sophists'.

Accounts of caviar go back to 10th-century China, where they steeped the eggs in tea before salting them, and to 13th-century Russia, where caviar was given the church's blessing as fasting food. Once the fashion spread, over-zealous fishing in Germany, France and America (where there was a "caviar rush" not unlike the gold rush) meant that by the end of the 19th century, populations everywhere were gravely diminished. Only the wars and revolutions of the 20th century gave temporary respite. In the 1960s, the realisation of Stalin's dream – a colossal three-mile wide dam across
the Volga river – posed a new threat, slicing off one of the sturgeon's main spawning grounds and producing pollution from heavy industry. Now, oil fields in the Caspian and global warming leading to rising water temperatures force the prehistoric sturgeon to compete with world forces that care not for the survival of an ancient fish.

In the 1990s, the situation was at an all-time low and it was agreed that something had to be done. But what? Opinions are sharply divided. On the one hand, environmental pressure groups such as Caviar Emptor have successfully lobbied for a total US ban on importing Beluga (the largest, slowest to reach breeding size, and most at risk). On the other hand, the inter-governmental body the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora (Cites), controls the situation through tight quotas that rewards those who work responsibly, allowing them to fund hatcheries from which they can restock the Caspian. Petrossian is convinced the Cites strategy is the right one, and that the pressure groups do not understand the reality of managing sturgeon populations. For a total ban does nothing to prevent the real problem, the black market, whose chain involves insanitary processing and transport, passing off, intimidation, forged export papers and, apparently, even murder. The collapse of the Soviet regime stimulated an existing black market, now supplied by fishermen who struggle to make ends meet in a free-market economy with nothing else to offer them.

Whichever policy is adopted, Inga Saffron, author of 'Caviar' (Broadway Books, $14 – the definitive book on this extraordinary subject), believes nothing can now save the Beluga from extinction. So what of the future? The situation is not without hope. Even Saffron still enjoys caviar. There are now Beluga, Sevruga and Oscietra hatcheries in all the Caspian countries. In addition, there are sturgeon farms in Europe, America, Canada, Israel, China and in southern-hemisphere countries such as Uruguay and Australia. Petrossian believes that the market share of farmed sturgeon caviar will rise from its current 15 per cent  to 50 per cent in five years. His prediction that the global market would recover has, fortunately, proved correct; as today it is back up to its former 100 tonnes per annum.

Farmed caviar has improved enormously over the last decade, with partnerships being forged between sturgeon farmers and traditional caviar processors who clearly realise this is an important part of the future. In US they farm the Transmontanus, or white, sturgeon which is the main native American species (now almost wiped out in the wild). In France and other European countries they farm the Baeri, or Arctic, sturgeon, the species that sometimes used to visit Britain It is best suited to the climate, and also produces eggs a bit sooner than Sevruga and Oscietra, although it still takes eight years from starting a farm to cropping, which explains the comparatively high price of farmed sturgeon caviar. Given that farmed caviar comes from different species to the wild, and that wild caviar varies from fish to fish, most people agree that trying to compare them can be as elusive as catching a rainbow. They are simply different.

The skilful salting, grading and maturing of caviar determines its quality, as does knowing how and when to harvest the eggs. Traditionally, the eggs had to be taken out of the female while still alive to prevent harmful enzymes ruining the caviar, though nowadays many places stun the fish first or remove the eggs seconds after killing. "You can't be squeamish about caviar," says Saffron.

There are also alternatives to wild and farmed caviar. Because sturgeon do not have scales, it is not kosher for Jews, and some Moslems also consider it unclean. Consequently, there is a long tradition of eating salmon roe, both in Russia and in Japan where it is greatly prized for sushi. This tradition does not exist in Scotland, because the possession of wild salmon roe was made illegal in the 19th century as it is one of the best known baits for poaching cock salmon. Robert Campbell-Preston of Inverawe Smokehouse told me this, adding that when he attempted to start marketing farmed salmon roe he received a series of sinister telephone calls from someone with a Russian accent. He now cures trout roe instead.

Jens Moeller, a Danish marine scientist who, while trying to impress his children with an experiment, discovered a technique that transforms seaweed into globules resembling salmon or lumpfish roe – a perfect vegetarian solution. Patrick Limpus explained how caviar-like "pearls" are made from herring in Spain. And in Scandinavia, lumpfish roe is popular for smorgasbord.  None purports to equal the seductive experience of real caviar, but they do offer an alternative to anyone concerned about the sustainability of wild caviar, or with budgets to consider.  For the epicure, the choice will always be those delectable grey pearls.

Whichever you caviar choose, blinis and sour cream are the classic accompaniment, but it is also fabulous with scrambled eggs. Sophie Dorber of The Anchor Inn in Suffolk has discovered that caviar with a purée of Jerusalem artichoke is a marriage made in heaven. And of course the bubbles of dry champagne or iced vodka make a good foil to the
creaminess of the eggs.

How to taste it.  
Best licked off the back of the hand – the warmth releases its subtle perfume. Never use silver; the only acceptable metal is apparently gold. Traditional caviar spoons are horn or mother-of-pearl, but actually china, glass, stainless steel, and even plastic or wood can be used so long as they have no smell.

How we tasted it. 
Our tasters were a chef, two food writers and three interested amateurs. As advised by the professionals, we divided the samples into three main categories: alternatives to sturgeon, real sturgeon, and salmon/trout roes. Afterwards, we compared the different categories against each other.  What we wanted to know was, how enjoyable is each product?

However, to prevent preconceptions getting in the way (for mystique is part of the caviar package), the first group included some sturgeon caviar and the second some reformed herring as it looks similar to sturgeon. Only the chef and I had had significant amounts of caviar before and the novices were confused at the softness of sturgeon caviar, concluding that the firmer, reformed herring was the 'real thing'. We drank Drappier champagne and nibbled on blinis, sour cream, quail eggs and Latvian rye bread.

The verdicts:
Cavi-Art seaweed relish, black, red & yellow. (Denmark, £4 / 50g). Made entirely from seaweed, this is suitable for vegans. Most enjoyed the black version (others not liked) and thought it fine for garnishes but not for eating by the spoonful. Tasting notes included 'nice crunchy texture, intriguing flavour of the sea'. 

Lumpfish roe (Inverawe £4 / 50g) Very salty. Probably good as a garnish on bland food, but not on its own. 

Onuga reformed herring pearls (Spain, Landandsea £4 / 50g). Made from herring (not roe), pounded up with oils and alginates and reformed into caviar-like pearls. 'Pleasing firm texture, smoky, citrus tones;  expansive sweet/salty taste'. Two tasters consistently preferred this to all other caviar throughout. But it doesn't burst in the mouth.

Beluga sturgeon (wild, Caspian). Grey colour - the largest sturgeon eggs. Voluptuous texture, complicated flavours emerging as you taste.  Forman & Field's from Astrakhan (£143 / 50g) 'buttery, delicate, with long complex flavours', and Petrossian's Kazakhstan (£212 / 50g)'mild, nutty, subtle'. 

Oscietra sturgeon (wild, Astrakhan, Formans £73 / 50g). Medium sized, browner eggs that exude golden brown oil when crushed, flavour often compared to ripe Brie, widely used by chefs. The least favoured; we concluded our sample had been damaged in transit as it is generally regarded as excellent.

Sevruga sturgeon (wild, Iran, Petrossian £114 /50g, Formans £64 / 50g.) The smallest and blackest of sturgeon eggs; a favourite the world over and with this panel: ' vibrant; just the right degree of saltiness', 'toasty, minerally, gun-metal tastes that lingered long'. Extremely more-ish.

Baeri or Arctic sturgeon (farmed, France, Caviar d'Aquitaine £45 - 70 / 50g). Medium, charcoal grey eggs. Excellent, like Oscietra should be 'walnuts and gunmetal'. Perhaps less distinctive than others.  Particularly good on scrambled eggs.

Transmontanus, Pacific or white sturgeon, farmed, US (Sterling Caviar from $112/50g. Outside US Petrossian are agents £86 / 50g.) Large, slightly greenish eggs. Sensational.  Sumptuous, yet lively, 'pronounced walnut oil, minerals, oysters', 'intriguing and complex, flavour rolls around the mouth'. After many comparisons, this & Sevruga were the favourites.

Salmon roe (wild, Bering Sea, Petrossian £4.70 / 50g) Everyone enjoyed popping these larger eggs: 'bright, glistening, nice sea-fish flavour,' said some, others thought it too oily, 'cod-liver oil capsules.'

Seaweed 'salmon roe type' (Denmark, Cavi-Art £4 / 50g). 'Intriguing but skin rather tough'.

Keta salmon caviar (farmed , Formans £7.50 / 100g). 'Nice popping sensation, slightly cloudy, smoked salmon smell, tastes better than it looks.'

Trout roe (farmed, Inverawe £4 / 50g) Smaller eggs than salmon roe. 'Sparkling, and perfect balance of salt. Lovely.'

Conclusions. 
What you buy depends on how you want to use it. We felt it a waste to use sturgeon caviar as a throw-away garnish; it is best appreciated on its own or with a simple foil. Many of the alternatives were fine for garnishes and using profligately. Farmed caviar is costly to produce; a comparison with wild is meaningless – you simply decide which species you favour. Like comparing Conference pears with Williams, it is a matter of personal taste.

Given the price difference between the alternatives and the sturgeon caviar, it was interesting that the Onuga had such immediate appeal.  Sturgeon caviar is the choice of those who appreciate complex flavour. It is like the immediate appeal of young single grape wine compared with the subtle depth of a mature blended vintage.  Ethical and environmental issues will affect some purchasers (see main article), so production and country of origin should be considered. Products like Cavi-Art seaweed and Onuga offer much to the consumer who would never buy caviar. 

Details
Forman & Field www.formanandfield.com

Petrossian www.petrossian.com

Caviar d'Aquitaine: www.caviaretprestige.com

Sterling caviar www.sterlingcaviar.com

Inverawe Smokehouse www.inverawe.co.uk

Seaweed faux caviar www.Cavi-art.com

Reformed herring www.onuga.com

The Anchor Inn, Walberswick, Suffolk 01502 722112
'Caviar' by Inga Saffron: Broadway Books, New York