Stockfish in PyeongChang in decline

Workers remove snow from dried pollack on a snowy day in December 2016. / Photo: Kim Sul-rae

Global warming, cheaper Chinese stockfish deal blow to fish market

By Kang Hyun-kyung

PYEONGCHANG _ The Olympic Stadium, where the opening and closing ceremonies of the PyeongChang Winter Olympics are to be held on Feb. 9 and 25, respectively, once showcased a now rare wintertime scene.

Arrays of dried pollack on wooden racks stretched along Song Creek in the neighborhood of the Olympic Stadium.

People call this "hwangtae deokjang" or "golden pollack farms." They're owned by fisher-farmers who work all year round. They grow cabbage and potatoes on their farmlands in spring and summer. In fall and winter, their farmlands transform into a venue for stockfish.

Stockfish stretched over the high-altitude area adds character to the iconic scene found only in Gangwon Province.

Near the Olympic venue, the stockfish are still there, although the amount has noticeably shrunk after the government annexed part of the territory for the construction of the Olympic Stadium.

In June and July, stockfish business owners in Daegwallyeong _ a mountain pass running between the eastern rustic county of PyeongChang and its nearby waterfront city of Gangneung_ go to the harbor city of Jumunjin, about a 30-minute drive away, to shop for pollack.

Ships carrying pollack caught by Korean fishers in Russian waters return to the harbor around that time of year.

Three or four stockfish owners team up to purchase a ship's entire catch and put all the fish in a huge refrigerator at a nearby warehouse. They return in October.

They cut the fish from head to tail and gut them. Tying two fish with a hook, they put the fish back in the refrigerator and wait until the cold weather comes. In mid-December when the temperature goes down to minus 10 degrees Celsius, they take the frozen fish to Daegwallyeong.
Seasonal workers place the pollack on wooden racks deep in the mountains.

The fish are exposed to bone-chilling cold at night and early morning and a fresh breeze during daytime while the temperature rises and weather becomes milder. As the cold and wind dry the fish on the racks in a four-month process, the texture inside becomes sweet and chewy. People call the seasoned fish "hwangtae" or golden pollack as the texture inside the fish turns yellow while enduring the wind and cold for four months.

"Stockfish owners here believe golden pollack produced in Daegwallyeong is the best," said stockfish business owner Kim Sul-rae.

According to her, the region's geographic traits make it perfect for premium hwangtae. "Hwangtae produced in the higher altitude has a better taste and softer texture than if produced at lower altitudes," she said. Daegwallyeong sits 832 meters above sea level.

Kim, 52, and her husband, Choi Young-gil, has run a stockfish business near Song Creek by the Olympic Stadium for 10 years. The couple shares their operation with four other farmers who seek to increase their income during wintertime. Some 150 tons of Pollack _ worth 3 billion won ($2.76 million) _ are dried on wooden racks in the 16,530-square-meter territory.

Kim's husband was born and raised there and worked as a stockfish seasonal worker when he was young. After completing his military service, he became a farmer and decided to run a stockfish business to diversify his income by recycling his farmland.

Throughout the four-month-long seasoning process, there are five distinct phases where pollack has a unique taste and texture.

According to Kim, the fish turns black around the 15th day and this is called black pollack. "If a month has passed, nearly 30 percent of the texture is dried and its taste is good. We call the fish in this state the wind fish," she said. Snow fish comes after two months on the racks.

"About 50 percent of the texture is dried. Texture of the fish is chewy," Kim said. The fish are called full fish once 90 days have passed on the racks. About 70 percent of their texture is dried and farmers eat the sliced texture. "It tastes good, so we farmers say its taste is even better than that of tuna sushi," Kim said. Golden pollack finally comes when 90 percent of the texture is dried.

The stockfish business boomed in the 1990s as demand for hwangtae hit an all-time high. People use the dried fish for soups or side dishes with red pepper paste.

"About a decade ago or so, stockfish racks were everywhere in this area," Kim said. She lamented the golden age for the stockfish business, however, is gone.

Many stockfish owners, however, closed their businesses as the dried fish business has become tougher year after year.

Kim said global warming and an influx of cheaper Chinese pollack into South Korea have triggered several stockfish owners to go out of business.

"Pollack is relatively heavy and the wooden racks collapse if the soil becomes fragile when the temperature rises. Cold weather makes soil harder and this helps the racks have a firmer footing," she said. "Rising labor cost also pushes farmers to feel the pinch."

According to Kim, temperature and location are two key factors that give hwangtae produced in Daegwallyeong its high quality and good taste.
Dried pollack has several varieties.

Pollack dried by wind and cold in the mountains is called golden pollack, whereas the fish dried by seaside wind on wooden racks in foreshore is called "bukeo" which is black in color. Bukeo is salty and hard, while hwangtae is sweet and has a softer texture.

The stockfish industry began in Daegwallyeong in the 1970s as farmers strove to diversify their income sources during winter.

Daegwallyeong accounts for 20 percent of nation's production of dried pollack, while the neighboring Inje County, where the stockfish industry began in the country in 1963, takes the lion's share of 80 percent.

Dried pollack has been part of North Korean culture for long and a group of North Korean refugees who settled in Gangwon Province during the Korean War are credited with founding South Korea's stockfish business.

They found geographic similarities between Gangwon Province and their hometowns in the North and began drying fish there.

The East Sea once had abundant stocks of pollack. But the fish stocks have depleted as temperatures rise amid climate change. As the water temperature rose the cold water fish have migrated northeast toward Russian waters. Korean fishermen catch pollack there and take them to the eastern harbor city of Jumunjin in early summer.

Global warming has delayed the timing to put frozen fish on the racks. "We used to put them on the wooden racks in November until last year. Due to global warming, however, we had to wait until December," Kim said.