Despite its benefits and opportunities, seafood remains underrepresented both at the dinner table and in the broader food conversation. It’s time to change that.

I have always been in love with the sea. As a boy, I spent entire afternoons crouched over tidepools, poking at barnacles, flipping rocks in search of crabs. The ocean was mystery and motion and meaning, all at once. That wonder never left me. It followed me through culinary school and into restaurant kitchens where I chased the thrill of discovery through seafood. And eventually, it led me to something even bigger: a sense of purpose. I realized seafood—this vast and diverse world of blue food from oceans, lakes, and rivers—wasn’t just what I loved cooking. It was what I believed in.

From kelp to king crab, trout to tilapia, bivalves to bluefin, seafood offers something extraordinary: a chance to eat well and do good at the same time. Salty, scaled, shelled, surprising, and delicious. It’s the broadest, wildest, most underappreciated category of food we have. And it’s more than just sustenance. It’s a story of ecology, economy, culture, and climate. And of course, incredible culinary opportunity. Blue food, done right, can feed more people with fewer resources, support livelihoods, restore ecosystems, and delight us all in the process. That’s why my friend Andrew Zimmern and I are on a mission to help more people fall in love with seafood again, or maybe for the first time.

To be clear: There’s a lot that needs fixing in the world of seafood. From labor abuses and slavery in supply chains to overfishing, habitat destruction, and mislabeling scandals—it’s no wonder seafood shows up in the headlines for all the wrong reasons. And those stories are important, shining a light on hard truths. As consumers, we must be vigilant because there is ecological and ethical urgency in our everyday choices. In our food culture, seafood is considered guilty until proven innocent. But it’s time to exonerate and celebrate the best of the blue food world. We must recognize that seafood is not just a problem to be fixed, but potentially a tool with which we can solve so many other issues. There is immense opportunity in our waters to drive solutions in public health, climate resilience, food security, and economic justice. It’s time to turn these stories into headlines too.

Environmental impact

When we consider greenhouse gas emissions, land use, antibiotics, water consumption, and feed efficiency, seafood, especially at its best—such as mussels, oysters, sardines, seaweed, and trout—consistently outperforms land-based animal proteins. Beef, lamb, and pork come with steep environmental costs. Even poultry, often seen as a lower-impact choice, can’t compete with most seafood when measured bite for bite. Now, I’m not saying you need to ditch the steak. Animal agriculture, when done responsibly, deserves its place on the farm and at the table—and the pages of Edible have long honored those who raise these foods with integrity. Andrew and I fully support and venerate these ranchers and farmers as heroes. We need them. The bottom line, though, is seafood has a fin up in the sustainability game. And the American diet is imbalanced towards land animal proteins. Overall, we need less red meat, more seafood; smaller portions; a greater emphasis on vegetables, legumes, and grains. Such choices will lead to a healthier environment and direct improvements in our own wellness.

Public health

Now let’s get personal. Research has shown that if Americans replaced two servings of red meat each week with seafood rich in Omega-3s, it would result in a reduction of tens of thousands of deaths per year from heart disease alone. The benefits of seafood go beyond the heart. Omega-3s support our whole bodies, including the brain. For pregnant and nursing mothers, the benefits to infants’ brain and vision development are profound, yet many still avoid seafood because of not-fully-informed fears. Throughout our lives, those same Omega-3s continue to support and protect our cognitive function, macular health, and mental health. Organizations such as the Seafood Nutrition Partnership are working hard to change this narrative, and put more seafood on more Americans’ plates more often.

Health statistics aren’t just abstract numbers. That baby who needs brain-boosting nutrients? That could be your daughter. That aging brain we hope to protect? That could be your parent, your brother, your present and future self. When it comes to food, public health isn’t some intellectual goal, but it is only an idea until we pick up our forks. At that point, it becomes an action.

Economics

Speaking of actions, one of the best ways to create more food without more impact is to make better use of what we already catch. Billions of pounds of edible bycatch—species unintentionally caught in pursuit of others—are discarded every year. That’s wasted protein, wasted profit, and a missed opportunity to deliciously diversify our diets. At the same time, we mostly discard up to 60% of each fish we do land: collars, bones, skin, roe, and organs with rich culinary and nutritional value. And here’s a stat that blows my mind: Seafood provides 2% of the food we eat globally, but supports nearly 10% of all livelihoods. Meanwhile, agriculture—responsible for 98% of food—accounts for 25% of global livelihoods. That means blue food’s impact is outsized, and we’re just scratching the surface of what we can accomplish with seafood.

Aquaculture—the farming of finfish, shellfish, and marine plants—is the fastest-growing food sector in the world. And while it’s not without controversy, it’s also our biggest opportunity to shift from extraction to regeneration. Thoughtfully managed aquaculture can revitalize working waterfronts, create circular economic opportunities through the food fed to fish, and support rural communities, especially by offering opportunity to young people and women.

If you’ve been reading Edible for a while, you know that food is more than fuel. It’s story, place, and people. We need to consider seafood not just as a global commodity, but also as local opportunity. Many of you reading this live near a coast. You’ve probably seen fishers, oyster farmers, and seaweed harvesters featured in these pages. You might even know them personally. Inland readers, don’t tune out: Trout, shrimp, and salmon farms, as well as freshwater fisheries, are interwoven throughout this country. When stewarded with responsibility, these systems deserve the same support and social license we give to regenerative farmers and ranchers. After all, fisheries and aquaculture systems are like farms: When done right they are deeply rooted in the values and needs of their local communities. And that means those communities should have a voice in how they’re managed.

Aquaculture, in particular, isn’t one-size-fits-all. It can—and should—look different in different places. But when it’s done thoughtfully—of, by, and for the people it serves—it can be a force for good. A blue revolution tailored to place. Let’s approach seafood, farmed and wild, with the same nuance and rigor we bring to discussions about agriculture and approach this conversation with care, curiosity, and courage.

Despite all the benefits and opportunities, seafood remains underrepresented both at the dinner table and in the broader food conversation. We want to change that. Not just by highlighting individual ingredients, but by reframing the entire category. The conversation that needs to be had is not just about sustainable seafood. Let’s expand on that. Let’s call it Seafood That Matters: blue foods that nourish our bodies, sustain our communities, and help heal our planet.