News Coverage
Nonprofit cooks up a savory way to pay for kids' canoe trips
Published September 16, 2003
This is a story about a fish that floats a boat.
Think savory salmon, marinated in lemon juice and ginger or brushed with pure maple syrup and then slow-smoked with a touch of mesquite, cherry or applewood. That's the fish.
The boat is a canoe filled with fourth- and fifth-graders who are learning the joys and responsibilities that come with experiencing Texas' rivers and streams.
And it is the sale of the salmon that is supporting the nonprofit boat -- 10 boats, really -- this year.
The idea of combining fish and boats comes from Joe Kendall, founder and executive director of the Chautauqua Foundation. He calls the salmon operation his version of the Girl Scout cookie.
"Buy fish, send a kid to the river" is his motto.
He believes, passionately, that outdoor education is the secret to keeping both children and rivers healthy. As he talks, Kendall -- wearing shorts, a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and sandals -- is sitting in the shade of a large elm tree behind a 14-feet-by-8-feet trailer on South First Street. The savory smell of mesquite wafts out the back of the $30,000 trailer. Inside is a commercial stainless steel kitchen with triple sinks, a refrigerator, double propane burners, a baker's rack of cooking equipment and a multi-rack smoker loaded with 75 pounds of salmon sides.
What was once a hobby has become Kendall's way to finance his 12-year-old foundation, which sends 600 disadvantaged children on canoe expeditions every year.
Last year, the program had a $30,000 grant from the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department, he says, but a nonprofit organization cannot apply every year.
So, for 2003, he has been selling smoked salmon -- $5 for 3 ounces -- on Saturdays at the Austin Downtown Farmers Market and the Westlake Farmers Market.
"He has a very popular booth," says Pam Boyar, director of the Westlake market. "The Westlake people love his product."
Kendall also wholesales the salmon to Central Market, El Sol Y La Luna restaurant and Main Street Grill. And this weekend, the foundation will be the only nonprofit food vendor at the Austin City Limits Music Festival, selling smoked salmon wraps ($6), pasta salads ($4-6) and picnic packages of salmon, cream cheese, capers and crackers for two ($14).
A former vice president for Schlotzsky's and T.G.I. Friday's, Kendall used to attend the annual restaurant trade show in Chicago every year. Afterward, he would hook up with a Finnish friend from Ohio and go salmon fishing in Wisconsin.
Everyone smokes salmon up there, he says, in all sorts of contraptions, including converted refrigerators. And even if he didn't catch enough fish, he could always buy it for $2 a pound. Every year he returned with 30 to 40 pounds of fresh and smoked salmon.
Eventually he began smoking his own, with tips from his Finnish friend. At holiday time, he gave it as gifts -- avoiding malls in environmental protest.
Kendall, a Canadian raised in Detroit, says he "got tired of making rich guys richer" and quit the restaurant business after 25 years so he could "follow his bliss."
"I liked canoeing, but I didn't want to do it full time," Kendall, 54, continues. So he combined canoeing with kids and formed the Chautauqua (sha-ta-kwa) Foundation.
Chautauqua is a 19th-century term that means combining education and entertainment. While the name fits his venture, it is hard to say and spell.
Didn't he learn that lesson from years of working at a place called Schlotzsky's? Apparently not, he says sheepishly. Of late, he has been using the simpler River School Salmon label.
His smoking operation goes far beyond a backyard pit. To smoke the salmon for commercial sales, he had to go to food safety school, pass a test and get the required certificate. Because his product is seafood, additional schooling was required. And there are other rules he must meet, such as keeping a log of times, temperatures, salt concentrations and other details on each stage of each batch. He also had to find a properly zoned spot to park his trailer.
That's a lot of hoops. But he is selling a perishable product.
"When I applied for a permit to the Texas Department of Health manufacturing department, they said I was the first for hot-smoked fish for wholesale," he notes.
The Atlantic salmon from Chile is flown in twice a week and delivered to the trailer. With the help of four or five part-time people, Kendall smokes fish four days a week, 75 pounds a batch, with each batch a 36-hour commitment. Marinate, dry chill, smoke, glaze, chill again, package -- that's the recipe and rhythm.
His raw product is a farm-raised salmon. He's also tried wild salmon, but, in taste tests, his customers preferred the milder farm-raised, he says.
However, this summer, his operation suffered a few bad moments when farm-raised salmon came under fire. Critics said supermarkets failed to disclose the use of color additives in their farm-raised salmon. Meanwhile, the Environmental Working Group issued a report saying that 10 samples of farm-raised salmon contained higher-than-average levels of PCBs -- polychlorinated biphenyls, a probable carcinogen. (The level did not exceed standards set in 1984 by the FDA for commercially sold fish, but it was higher than guidelines set by the Environmental Protection Agency in 1999 for recreationally caught fish.)
Briefly, Kendall wondered whether he would be using his trailer to sell shaved ice instead of salmon.
He is not blowing off the concerns about farm-raised fish. "We've got to talk about it, do research, do tests, be cognizant."
His salmon continues to win fans, most recently Whole Foods Market.
"It is absolutely fabulous!" says Dick Jones, national seafood buyer for the natural foods chain. "The first thing that drew us to this product was the taste, then the artisan craftsmanship that goes into making the product."
Add to that the way Kendall is supporting the community, and it made a perfect fit for Whole Foods, said Jones in a telephone call from a shrimp hatchery in Belize.
Whole Foods has asked Kendall to experiment with wild varieties or a Norwegian brand of farm-raised salmon with lower PCB levels that the market sells. The smoked salmon is expected in Whole Foods stores by the end of the month.
Kendall's game to try different suppliers. He believes salmon, with its healthy omega-3 fatty acids, has too many good things going for it to throw it back in the river. Salmon could even be a wrinkle cure, Kendall tosses out, citing a Yale professor who says omega 3s can reduce inflammation that damages skin. (Now Kendall's starting to sound like a fish oil salesman.)
Time to get back to the smoker. He and his crew have their plates full this week as they prepare 6,000 salmon wraps, salads and picnic packs. The ACL Festival will be a major fund-raiser for them. With success, the fish will have him back on the river. In boats. With kids.