Generations Of Knowledge At Montauk Seafood Company

Fishermen are so spoiled.

When it comes to a dinner table stocked with the freshest fish, the fruits of the latest seasonal migrations through local waters and the rare delicacies that you won’t see on restaurant menus, those who work the decks of local fishing boats have it better than anyone.

It’s one of the (few) perks.

Wesley Peterson and Doug Davidson both spent many years enjoying those fruits of their own labor, while working aboard commercial fishing boats out of Montauk Harbor.

Now, they are go-betweens for the rest of us — ambassadors of the Montauk fishing community, with baskets of bounty from decks of the boats they once crewed, and the boiled-in knowledge of how best to treat it for the experience of eating like a fisherman.

It might come as a shock to a visitor to be told that Montauk — the state’s largest fishing port and, until fairly recently, a hamlet that was defined almost solely by its fishing roots — had only one seafood market before Montauk Seafood Company, owned by Peterson and Davidson, opened last year.

“It was something I’d been thinking about, sort of in the back of my mind, for a few years,” said Peterson, 36. “Montauk only had one real seafood market, Gosman’s, and they’re closed in the winter, and it is out at the docks. There was nothing in town.”

Peterson, a born-and-bred Montauker and third-generation commercial fishermen, was on the decks of lobster boats at age 10, worked trawlers through his teens and early 20s, and owned his own commercial fishing boat before he turned 30. Davidson, raised in Westchester, landed in Montauk in his early 20s with a job aboard a trawler owned by one of Peterson’s uncles.

They might seem an unlikely pair to end up in day jobs on terra firma, as though shanghaied by the shorebound to serve as seafood advisors to the uninitiated.

As is common in so many resort communities whose roots are in fishing, visitors bring with them habits that are prejudiced by encounters with fish from farms, or from waters so far-flung that they cannot possible be “fresh” in the sense of the word that actual fishermen think of it — not just never-frozen but actually caught within hours of when it is to be consumed.

“We could be selling red snapper with cloudy eyes that was caught nine days ago in Florida,” Davidson said with a snicker and a shake of his head. “But I’ve got a sea bass that a guy caught at 4 a.m., and it’s in my case that afternoon. People say, ‘Oh, I don’t know if I like sea bass …’ — and I’m, like, this is the best fish there is, and it’s from right here. It was caught this morning!”

In a world where unscrupulous seafood markets are being stocked with fish mislabeled to deceive unwitting consumers, or caught by slave labor and environmentally destructive methods, and transported thousands of miles, Peterson and Davidson say they are committed to spreading the gospel started by groups like Dock to Dish — that local fish is the best fish.

“Wes goes and picks it up himself, from guys he grew up around, who we worked with — it’s local, sustainable, and you can’t get a lower carbon footprint,” Davidson said, beaming. “And we have cool stuff you don’t see much. I’m getting some weakfish from the bay tomorrow. We had a world-record pomfret last year. I put that on social media, and people who know came running. It sold out so fast.”

Fluke and striped bass are always top sellers from local waters. Tuna can be local from June to about November. Black sea bass have caught on with restaurants and are becoming more popular with consumers, and tilefish is finding a following — especially after the release of the book “The Lost Boys of Montauk,” about a local vessel lost at sea.

“Tilefish is starting to sell a lot — people are starting to learn about it, and they try it and really like it,” Peterson said. “We have a lot of really good, under-utilized fish out here: porgies, monkfish, skate wings. A lot of people have just never tried them. It can be hard to convince them, but if you do, they always come back for more.”

Peterson and Davidson themselves are about as different as tuna and fluke. Peterson is reserved, soft spoken and impeccably polite, with an easy smile, but prefers the docks and the back room fillet table to the front counter. Davidson is gregarious and the consummate pitch-man, quick to start up a conversation and always finding a way to promote the shop, in conversation, on social media — @montaukseafoodcompany — and with various designs of trucker hats.

Both are still drawn to their commercial fishing roots. Peterson is the primary go-between with the fishermen, dashing to the docks at all hours, beckoned by a text from a friend returning to shore, to pick up fish for the store. Davidson loves the face-to-face dynamics of the retail business but says he misses the rolling, salt-soaked decks of boats — in particular, the things that most of us might think would be missed the least.

“I miss the work, the physical labor, the shitty weather, getting yelled at by the captain,” he chuckles wistfully. “On the days I’m not working, I always seem to find myself down at the docks.”