A fish better known for its contribution to the American songbook than 
the American dinner plate is being touted as a sustainable alternative 
to grouper and red snapper. Southern conservationists are now 
championing red porgy, the fish that was once so ubiquitous on 
low-country docks that it lent its name to the hero of George Gershwin's
 opera, "Porgy and Bess." 
While the effort has been slightly 
hampered by chefs' reluctance to tinker with unfamiliar proteins and the
 lingering social stigma associated with eating red porgy, backers 
believe the fish's taste and history make it an excellent candidate to 
diversify coastal diets.
"There is such immense diversity in the ocean that's edible, and, 
contrary to logic, we focus on just a few species," says Megan 
Westmeyer, coordinator of the 
South Carolina Aquarium's Sustainable Seafood Initiative. "What we need to do is widen the diversity of what we're eating." 
To relieve pressure on overfished species, Westmeyer's organization is pushing eaters to embrace so-called 
"trash fish,"
 which don't have the cachet -- or the threatened future -- of marquee 
varieties. But red porgy has emerged as a somewhat tougher sell than 
amberjack, wreckfish and triggerfish, and a regular menu item at leading
 Charleston eateries like 
McCrady's and 
FIG. 
Red
 porgies swim close to the shore, well within the reach of hungry 
fishermen without fancy boats or elaborate tackle. Much like mullet, its
 silvery Southern cousin, red porgy quickly became known as a poverty 
fish. 
"It was probably consumed by slaves, and could have had a 
cultural taboo," Westmeyer says. "The upper class didn't want to eat the
 same thing as the slaves." 
Still, enough Carolinians and 
Georgians ate enough red porgy – about 2 million pounds of it annually 
when its popularity peaked in the 1980s – that regulating bodies 
intervened to limit its harvest. Westmeyer says the fish has recovered 
so quickly that it's now considered an environmentally sound choice. 
Having mastered red porgy's management, fans of the fish must now persuade chefs to cook with it. 
"To
 bring in a new fish and get customers to try it can take time," 
concedes Westmeyer, who says the restaurants she's approached are still 
figuring out how to pry profit from the delicate porgy, which has to be 
scaled rather than skinned. 
"It's a very mild, flaky, white 
fish," Westmeyer says. "People enjoy it, but you need a skilled chef who
 can deal with the pinbones." 
Fortunately for ocean caretakers 
like Westmeyer, there's no shortage of skilled chefs in Charleston, 
where porgy may once again rule Catfish Row.