King of cod. It is the time of year that cod lovers pre­fer: from January to March or April, Skrei cod returns to the table. Sourced from line fishe­ries, it is known as the „king of cod.“

It is not a spe­ci­fic spe­ci­es of fish, but rather a cod caught exclu­si­ve­ly in win­ter. The word Skrei comes from Norwegian and means „wan­de­rer,“ refer­ring to the migra­ti­on of over 1,000 km that this fish under­ta­kes every year from Arctic waters to its spaw­ning grounds fur­ther south along Norway and into the North Sea.

For chefs, it is a cove­ted deli­ca­cy that some­ti­mes bears the „Skrei from Norway“ label. To recei­ve this label, the fish must be caught in Norway using longli­nes or hand­li­nes, bled direct­ly on board, and clea­ned with sea­wa­ter. „The fish must be brought ashore within four hours wit­hout brea­king the cold chain,“ explains Luca Bianchi, Head of Fish at Bianchi, a sup­plier to the Swiss gastro­no­my indu­stry. Our Zurich-based com­pa­ny has alre­a­dy orde­red half a ton.

Among our cus­to­mers is the head chef of Njørden in Aubonne (16/20), Philippe Deslarzes (lar­ge pho­to abo­ve). The Swiss-Swedish chef, a new mem­ber of the Grandes Tables de Suisse and a pas­sio­na­te ang­ler, knows exact­ly how to catch and prepa­re this fish.

What makes Skrei cod so special?

It is a fish that lives in the free­zing waters of the far north and must feed more to sus­tain its long win­ter migra­ti­on, which results in supe­ri­or meat qua­li­ty. When you catch them, you imme­dia­te­ly noti­ce they are much lar­ger: some fish can weigh up to 14 kg, com­pared to 5 to 7 kg for cod caught in the sum­mer. The dif­fe­ren­ces in taste are subt­le. Its fle­sh remains white but is slight­ly fat­tier and jui­cier than that of other cod. Its tex­tu­re is firm­er and more ten­der, and the meat flakes beautifully.

When does the sea­son begin?

The Skrei sea­son runs from January to April. It is a strict­ly regu­la­ted fishery to pre­ser­ve mari­ne stocks. For me, January is still a bit ear­ly. I pre­fer to wait a litt­le, as it is even bet­ter from February onwards. If you tru­ly love this pro­duct, you wait. We will be put­ting it on the menu at Njørden from mid-February. I find it a pity to see cod on restau­rant menus all year round. It has beco­me so com­mon that it is almost tri­vi­al, a bit like sal­mon. A wild-caught cod is some­thing else enti­re­ly! When peo­p­le taste it, they say, „Wow, so this is real cod!“

And… is it expensive?

No, not par­ti­cu­lar­ly. Skrei refers more to the sea­son than to a qua­li­ty. To respect the­se fish, I buy them who­le and try to uti­li­ze them as much as pos­si­ble, for exam­p­le by using the bones and skin for stocks and sau­ces. It is not easy to use ever­ything, as the head is very lar­ge and can make up to 30% of the ani­mal’s weight! In Scandinavian count­ries, they even cook the cod’s ton­gue, which peo­p­le love.

How do you prepa­re Skrei in the restaurant?

I haven’t yet deci­ded which reci­pe will be ser­ved in the gour­met restau­rant. In the Njord Café, my sous-chef Olivier Alvarez pre­fers steaming—something subt­le so as not to over­power the fish. We pro­vi­de culina­ry enjoy­ment with a cre­a­my, anis­eed-fla­vor­ed sau­ce and a pre­pa­ra­ti­on cen­te­red around celery.

And what do you recom­mend for tho­se who want to prepa­re it at home?

I sug­gest two coo­king methods that can be alter­na­ted depen­ding on your mood. For maxi­mum fla­vor, steam it. It is very simp­le and ensu­res suc­cu­lent and deli­cious meat. Alternatively, you can fry the cod in sal­ted but­ter, just as my mother used to do. You brown it for only 30 seconds and then let it cook over low heat in mel­ted but­ter. The but­ter masks the fla­vor of the cod slight­ly, but with boi­led pota­toes and a bit of dill, it is a true delight. For me, it is a real Proustian madeleine!