Fresh whitefish, pan-fried with a light golden crust, pulled out of Lake Superior that same morning. If you grew up in the U.P. and moved away, you can probably taste it just reading that, and you already know you can’t get it where you are now.
There is a reason for that. Lake Superior whitefish comes out of some of the coldest, deepest fresh water on the planet, and that cold does something to the fish. The flesh comes out firmer and the flavor cleaner and more delicate than just about any fish you will find in warmer water. Yoopers will tell you it is some of the best-tasting freshwater fish anywhere, and they are not really exaggerating.
And there are about a hundred ways to eat it. Pan-fried with a light breading is the classic, especially at a Friday night fish fry, which in the U.P. is less a meal and more a way of life. You will find it baked, broiled, tucked into chowder, and piled into tacos. But the one that really gets people is smoked.
Smoked whitefish might be the most U.P. thing you can put in your mouth. Whole fish go into the smoker low and slow until the meat turns golden and falls apart in flaky, smoky chunks. Then there is the smoked whitefish dip, that creamy, salty, smoky spread that shows up at every gathering and disappears just as fast. Half the fish markets in the U.P. sell it by the tub, and there is a good reason locals buy two.
Behind all of it are the fish markets, a lot of them family-run shops that have been pulling fish out of these waters for generations. They are the kind of weathered little places near the water where the day’s catch comes in fresh, gets cleaned right there, and goes home with you wrapped in white paper. Whitefish dinner is right up there with the pasty as the dish that says U.P. to anybody who knows.
Here is the part that downstate Yoopers will want to hear. You do not necessarily have to wait for your next trip home. Some of those fish markets will pack up smoked whitefish and ship it right to your door, anywhere in the country. It is not quite the same as eating it on a dock with Lake Superior in front of you. But when the homesickness hits, it is awful close.
Because that is really what whitefish is for a Yooper. It is not just dinner. It is Friday nights and fish fries, summers at camp, grandma’s kitchen, and the smell of the smoker going in somebody’s backyard. It is the taste of home. And no matter how far you go, that is one flavor that never really lets you forget where you are from.
Sources: Michigan’s Upper Peninsula Travel & Recreation Association and Visit Keweenaw.
Featured image: Fried whitefish. Photo by Ocdp, Wikimedia Commons, CC0/public domain. Edited
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