Charles Bowman, chef of Manhattan’s stalwart downtown Greek restaurant Periyali, apologizes for being late as he steps onto the back of the boat. Hamptons traffic added an hour to his usual 3-hour drive from the city to the Star Island Yacht Club in Montauk one recent Friday.
His hands are full of provisions for today’s fishing trip: a party-size tray of Greek salad and an oozing cup of olive oil dressing wrapped in plastic. His colleagues Dimitris Kariotis and James Mallios follow with boxes of fresh-made sandwiches, chips and water.
But they’re not really here to eat. They’re heading out to sea in a chartered 41-foot Hatteras sportfish boat to catch the next night’s dinner at Periyali.
“If the fish is not fresh, I don’t put it in my restaurant,” Periyali owner Steve Tzolis, 76, says over the phone. Tzolis, who opened the restaurant in 1987 with his wife, Nicola Kotsoni, and owns several other NYC eateries, often joins the fishing expedition, but is currently summering in Mykonos in his native Greece — spending much of his time fishing for tuna.
The boat rumbles to a stop as the captain cuts the ignition over a rocky-bottom patch of the Atlantic about a mile and a half off the tip of Long Island. We’re surrounded by a handful of other fishing boats as we rock back and forth under a gray sky, and in the distance, we can see the Montauk Point Lighthouse.
For a veteran restaurant chef, Bowman, 59, has a surprisingly gentle demeanor, and it shows as he balances a fishing rod across his lap and over the side of the boat. He doesn’t wait long before he suddenly senses a bite. “Feels like a blue[fish],” he says, calmly. “It’s not fighting.” He begins steadily reeling the catch in — the line’s about 200 feet out. Finally, the lure — a colorful work of art with multiple hooks custom-built by the deck technician — surfaces in a bubbling froth, and attached is what turns out to be a roughly 8-pound bluefish. The technician adeptly pulls it up, unhooks the mouth and drops it into a giant green bucket. It’s an impressive creature, but what this restaurant crew seems to be really interested in is the striped bass.
“You try to go for wild striped bass,” says Bowman, who grew up fishing in St. Petersburg, Fla., and has worked at Periyali on and off since the beginning. “Customers like the firm whitefish. It’s not as fishy as blue.”
“It’s a skill,” says Tzolis. “Every kind of fish needs different hooks, different lines, different baits . . .”
Bowman recalls a trip Tzolis took back in January, when temperatures were frigid. “It’s in his blood,” says Bowman. “[Recently,] he caught three wild striped bass in one shot. They had to be at least 45 to 50 pounds.”
It’s 3 p.m., and the fish are being stubborn. The guys pull in several bluefish and a couple bass that need to be thrown back because they don’t meet the legal size requirement. Bowman leans in — he’s got another bite. He hunches over the rod, feet firmly placed, reeling with his right hand. “That’s a bass,” says the deck technician. Again, a froth of water bubbles up and there she is: an 18-pounder with tell-tale stripes and a giant gaping mouth.
Three and a half hours after launching, we make land, where the men store their bounty in giant ice-filled coolers filled for the 120-mile drive back to the city. This time, it takes close to five hours.
The next day, we’re standing in Periyali’s kitchen. “We had two wild striped bass and eight or nine bluefish,” says Bowman. “We took them off the ice and put them straight into the walkin.” (He admits to sacrificing one bluefish for his own dinner the night before.) The pile of fish has been cleaned and scaled, and Bowman is preparing to filet them for the evening service.
“I’m letting the tip of the knife follow the backbone,” he explains as he carves off a side of a bass. “The color and texture, this is so beautiful. So clear.” All in all, this fish yields 12 orders of seven- to eight-ounce portions, which he then grills or bakes in a couple of different styles, including a rich plaki dish with tomatoes, garlic and white wine, a recipe that can easily be replicated by home cooks (see box).
Of course, getting out to Montauk is not an easy endeavor, especially in the summer — so is it worth it? “At $28 to $32 a plate, technically, our trip is paid for,” says Bowman, who recommends sourcing your fish from Citarella if you can’t make it out to Montauk or cover the $650 boat-charter fee. “Plus, we had a great time, and it’s great for the restaurant. It’s a win-win situation.”