Wondering What Comes Out of the Sea
Even though my love of seafood is yet another taste that I rarely manage to indulge, I have to admit that cost was not my greatest concern when it comes to the consumable effects of the BP oil disaster in the Gulf of Mexico:
Broadway Oyster Bar is not the only area business affected by the disaster. Retailers, distributors and other restaurants have had to tweak offerings, look for other seafood sources and pay higher prices, which are being passed on to customers. Prices of nongulf shellfish are going up, some buyers say.
Hagen has had to go to a different source for his gulf oysters, switching from a Louisiana company to a Texas operation west of the Mississippi River where harvesting areas are still open. But the change has pushed prices for gulf oysters up by about a third, and gulf shrimp prices could double by the end of the summer, Hagen predicts, though he hasn’t had to raise menu prices on shrimp yet. Some have.
I’m eager for correction from those who know better — and it would be wholly irrational to see the spread of toxins through water to be immediate — but something just feels more communicable about events that occur under water. The fluidity of oceans gives local disasters a global feel to a greater extent than events on land. Even beginning with the introduction to maps in elementary school, segmenting Earth’s land mass into continents made more apparent sense to me than drawing arbitrary lines between oceans, seas, and gulfs.
Perhaps it’s a peculiar Sunday fancy, but I wonder how much more unified we’d tend to be, as a species, were we submarine rather than terrestrial. Wherever such imaginings may lead, for the sake of economic stability and personal well-being, I’ll resist universalist superstitions with regard to the dark cloud currently spreading over the abodes of the merpeople to our south.