The Scottish salmon run

Top quality Scottish salmon is a delicacy appreciated the world over, but how does it get from sea to foreign plate? Nick Drainey follows the progress of fish set for some of the most discerning diners of all – in Paris

Off the west coast of Scotland the cold waters are host to an abundance of seafood, soon to be taken out and packed into boxes of ice. In Larkhall, Lanarkshire, salmon are being loaded on to HGVs, ready to leave the haulage depot and travel thousands of miles. Meanwhile, Parisians are about to order their wine before dining on the finest fish available – Saumon Écossais Label Rouge.

Every day an incredible journey from sea to plate takes place, transporting farmed salmon from the Scottish coast to some of the best restaurants in the world.

The French government accredits the Label Rouge status only to the best food, including the top-rated Scottish salmon, meaning the most discerning of diners will demand it.

But the quality can only be enjoyed if it is delivered; hence the long journey, made as quickly as possible, to grace the tables of Paris with this top Scottish export.

The delivery starts far from the world of city- centre restaurants. The Sound of Mull is enjoying an early summer as a calm sea reflects the glow of a soft evening sun, surrounded by the rugged mountains of Morvern. Ronja Skye, a specially designed vessel known as a well boat, is beginning its work at a fish farm on the water. Using a large pipe, it is literally vacuuming up the salmon and seawater into tanks on the decks. Still alive, the fish are taken towards the shore and a pontoon stretching out on to Loch Creran which holds another pipe. Early the next morning the fish are moved into this and forced by the flow of water to swim into the South Shian processing plant operated by Scottish Sea Farms north of Oban.

Processing manager Donald Buchanan is proud of these fish, and despite the fact they are there to be killed, keeping them calm by chilling the water to make them relaxed and docile is important, partly as a welfare issue but also to keep them up to the Label Rouge standards. Too much adrenaline in a fish will make the flesh soft and slightly mushy.

Buchanan says: “The quality and care shown from farming through to harvesting is second to none. The French customer is definitely very discerning. They know what quality looks like.”

The three-year life of the fish ends when its nose triggers a bolt to come from the top of the pipe and stun it, before it bleeds to death. It is not too dissimilar to the way a fisherman on a riverbank would do it, although he would not deal with 15,000 fish a day as they do at South Shian.

After being gutted by machine, cleaned by hand and graded by quality and size, the fish are packed into boxes and covered in ice, ready for the next stage. One box has been clearly marked. It contains five salmon, each weighing between four and five kilos and is heading for France in the refrigerated trailer of an articulated lorry driven by John Davies.

The first stage is like something out of an advert, as the truck makes its way through the Highland scenery. Once past Balloch and into Glasgow, however, the big business side of the salmon industry becomes apparent. The first stop is at DFDS’s Larkhall depot where more than 200,000 tonnes of Scottish salmon arrive every year, to be reassigned to lorries heading for airports where the fish are flown to New York, Miami, Japan and the big new market of China. Other trucks head for the fish markets of Britain and Europe, including the clearly marked box from South Shian.

Transport manager Pat Clinton works in an office more like a trading floor, with phones constantly ringing, taking calls from suppliers across Scotland and clients across the world.

The reason for the urgency is simple: salmon will start to go off if they are not delivered in time, despite the ice and refrigeration units. “It has to get there,” says Clinton. “It is very, very time sensitive. A couple of hours can be the difference between catching a plane and not.”

As evening approaches the box from South Shian leaves on a Scania, down the M74, across the A66 and down the A1 as night falls. Eventually, the pitch darkness of the Channel Tunnel is reached as the lorry continues to France. Driver Shane Dale only stops when legal restrictions mean he has to. “Getting the fish there is vital,” he says. “In a nutshell, it is time.” At Boulogne’s fish market – Gare de Marée – the box is taken off the lorry and placed in a cold store, ready to be taken to the largest food market in the world, the Rungis Marché International near Orly airport to the south of Paris. “Here, it is a jungle in terms of driving,” says Pierre Maurage, from Saumon Écossais Label Rouge as he enters Rungis in the early hours. This is not the Paris of Camus or Hemingway; it is one of big business as lorries from across Europe rush around with their deliveries.

Arriving at the fish section, the Pavillon de la Marée, the single box is dwarfed by thousands of others in a hall bigger than the SECC. The Reynaud fish company where the box sits takes 20 tonnes of Label Rouge Scottish salmon each week, selling it to 1,000 Paris restaurants, along with a wealth of other seafood. Near the box are octopuses from the Pacific, sardines from the Mediterranean, crab from the French Atlantic and whole tuna from the Ivory Coast.

“If we had more Label Rouge Scottish salmon we would sell more,” says David Lefranc, of Reynaud before the box from South Shian is sold. The price was kept between seller and buyer but the average for Label Rouge Scottish salmon is around E7/kg. Buyer Valérie Ferrié is happy with it: “It is a very, very good product… Label Rouge Scottish salmon has very good colour and very good texture. Scotland is seen as a country with the highest standards.”

As dawn breaks Ferrié makes her way around Paris, dropping off fish to her clients, including the Brasserie La Lorraine, near the Arc de Triomphe. Here head chef Christian Linay gets to work on the South Shian salmon in time for lunch.

He turns his nose up at Norwegian fish, preferring Scottish, but only if it has acquired Label Rouge status: “For professionals, it is much better to work with, the Scottish salmon. I have never had a customer return any to the kitchen.” Linay says there are many ways to serve the salmon. On this day it is being cut into fillets, part cooked so the middle remains raw, and served as a starter with a carrot purée. As a main course he panfries a salmon steak and places it with a pastry disc topped with pureed aubergine, artichoke, mangetout and tomato.

As businessmen, couples and the well-to-do of Paris take up tables in the restaurant, Pierre Maurage from Label Rouge is happy as he watches the salmon, which was swimming in the Sound of Mull earlier in the week, being ordered and eaten.

Sipping a glass of Pouilly-Vinzelles, he says Saumon Écossais Label Rouge is a niche market with only 7,000 tonnes a year being sold. But the demand is such that if more was produced the success enjoyed so far can only grow.

He says the taste is key. This is where the fish farm has to get it right, making sure the feed has the right balance of fish and oils to ensure firm flesh and a low fat content. Pierre adds: “If any animal is well fed and free to swim, or run, then automatically the quality is going to be good. (With salmon) it means you will have a subtle taste in your mouth.”

Off the west coast of Scotland, the terns have returned for the summer, eagerly performing their dance as they hover above the water searching for small fish. Beyond them captain Hans Erik Hesthol is steering the well boat Ronja Skye to a fish farm, about to begin the cycle from sea to plate once again.