Scaleless and heavily bewhiskered, catfish (order of Siluriformes) struggle to convey gracefulness. With nearly 3 000 species spread across continents – a pattern called “cosmopolitan distribution” – generalizations are tricky. But overall, these mostly (though not always) freshwater animals are clunkily big, with none of the swagger of other large fish such as tuna. The eyes are small, almost an afterthought: the food detection function is largely devolved to the mighty whiskers, technically known as barbels. These guide the fish through the semi-opaque depths where they tend to feed. Catfish lack the sizeable air-filled bladders that promote floating: theirs are comparatively tiny. Flat, bony heads further weigh the animals down.
What with all this rummaging, a “muddy” reputation clings to river catfish – even more so than to carp, a fairly close relative. When, in late 2021, engineers seeking to unblock a drainage pipe in the Austrian city of Linz brought to light a 2.5-metre, 100-kilogram specimen, the episode appeared to synthesize the creature’s least cuddly attributes: lumpy, drawn to murky habitats, a potential nuisance.
All true, no doubt, but also selective. Catfish, in fact, are probably more than averagely intelligent by fish standards. We may not know what they say to each other, but we do know that their communication system, both acoustic and olfactive, is quite developed: they are good at emitting signals of distress, for example, and good also – unlike some of us lot – at gauging the precise age, reproductive state and social status of prospective partners.
Catfish are cunning, innovative predators. In 2012, one study of Europe’s largest freshwater fish, the wels catfish (Silurus glanis), documented what appeared to be new “beaching” tactics by the animals in the river Tarn, in the French city of Albi. Lying in wait at the edge of the water, the catfish would leap onto land, in flash incursions, to snatch live pigeons. Such hunting ingenuity, akin to the amphibious dexterity of crocodiles, testifies to highly adaptive qualities. Warm water environments, particularly those that have been modified by humans, are especially congenial to catfish: they live long lives, up to 80 years, and reproduce abundantly – all of which means catfish are easily farmed, generally sustainable to eat, and pretty inexpensive. Consequently, they are common in the diets of Europe, Africa, Asia and the southern United States of America.
When it comes to cooking freshwater catfish, you can readily eliminate any muddiness by cutting out and discarding the darker central parts of the raw fillets, then soaking the fillet strips in lemony water. As you would with carp and other bottom-feeding fish, make sure all the blood has drained off. You’ll end up with flesh that is mild-flavoured and moist, loaded with lean protein and rich in vitamins D and B12: both are vital nutrients and frequently missing from diets.
With catfish cheap and easily available, the risk of fraud or mislabelling at the market stall or on your restaurant plate is minimal. If anything, it is certain varieties of catfish that are more likely to be passed off as higher-end oceanic fish, such as cod or haddock. (The flesh is similarly whitish to light pink in colour, and equally flaky – if bonier for some cuts.) Freshness is paramount: like other freshwater fish, catfish spoils fast and must be kept on ice until the last moment. Sour odours, sliminess or an excessively reddish tinge are signs for you to run or call the authorities. Smoked catfish, as featured here in recipes from Guinea and Nigeria, will normally be sold cured and flattened, and may need rehydrating.
No, but I can see why you might think that. We’re both voluminous, bottom-dwelling freshwater fish, although we have some marine or brackish-water incarnations. The carp has scales. I have none; I have barbels.
I certainly have a finer sense of taste than you do. A human individual has around 10 000 taste buds. We have several times that – the larger ones among us may have 15 times as many.
I don’t go online. You shouldn’t make assumptions just from the fact that I’m speaking to you – although I am told I’m fairly clever. Humans have now figured out that we fish retain information for years, and that some of us catfish, in particular, can remember human voices and the colour of things for very long periods.
It’s not for me to say. But yes, we live in one of many possible worlds. I do find myself pondering what life might have been if the tables were turned. Still, you should watch yourself. In the Mekong river, you’ve nearly wiped me out. Being at the top of the food chain doesn’t give you a free pass, you know...