Illinois Tried to Bait Restaurants With Carp But Customers Won’t Bite

On a balmy Saturday afternoon in March, a crowd gathers in the parking lot as Dirk Fucik, owner of Dirk’s Fish & Gourmet Shop, presides over his customary seafood sampling event. Amidst the alluring scent wafting from the grill, Fucik invites eager onlookers to savor an array of oceanic delicacies, including salmon, shrimp, tuna, and fish cakes.

“Try these copi cakes,” Fucik urges, introducing the unfamiliar fish cakes to some intrigued guests. Their puzzled expressions accompany inquiries about the nature of the fish. “They used to be known as Asian carp,” he adds.

In 2022, Illinois launched a marketing campaign spotlighting the invasive carp, which have gained infamy for displacing native fish in the Mississippi River and its surrounding streams. The Chicago Tribune reported that the federal Great Lakes Restoration Initiative earmarked $600,000 for a five-year promotional drive to boost the fish’s consumption. Concerns over the unappetizing name “carp” led to a rebranding initiative. Its new name, “copi,” is derived from “copious,” symbolizing its abundance in state waters.

Esteemed restaurants in Chicago such as Ina Mae Tavern and Gaijin joined the cause to popularize copi as a food source, crafting enticing recipes and leveraging their influence to amplify the campaign. Spearheading the promotional efforts is Tetra Tech, a consulting firm, that manages a dedicated webpage and an Instagram account. The latter regularly features upbeat promotional videos with catchy rhythms and slogans proclaiming, “An invasive species that is delicious!”

But two years into the campaign, enthusiasm among chefs and restaurants to promote the fish has waned. Except for Dirk’s, all participating restaurants and fish markets in Chicago have quietly removed copi from their menus.

“Nobody bothered to order them,” says an operations manager at one of the partnering restaurants, who requested anonymity to avoid jeopardizing their relationship with the Illinois Department of Natural Resources (IDNR). Despite having a pleasant, mild flavor, the fish is very bony and hard to process, the manager says. Converting the fish into chopped or ground form was an alternative, yet selling patties at a profitable price point proved challenging. According to the manager, copi was removed from their menu within two weeks of promotion.

Xuandi Wang/Eater Chicago

Brian Schoenung, program manager at the IDNR overseeing the copi campaign, acknowledged challenges in maintaining partnerships. In addition to supply chain disruptions and manufacturing failures, the campaign has had to navigate diminishing media interest along with lukewarm consumer reception.

“We had a dip, and that dip has not been insignificant,” Schoenung says. “We got a lot of media right off the bat. As things fall out of the spotlight, you’re going to see a little bit of a backslide.”

Emblazoned with promotional materials featuring the slogan “Choose Copi,” Dirk’s introduced copi burgers in salsa and teriyaki flavors, and it continues to offer chopped and ground carp.

However, the persistent negative stereotypes surrounding carp make it a hard sell. Fucik says that many consumers mistakenly associate copi with common carp, imagining them to be bottom-dwelling creatures with a muddy flavor. On the contrary, the four species designated for consumption primarily inhabit upper water regions, feeding on algae, wetland flora, and, notably for black carp, mussels, and snails. Fucik frequently finds himself explaining the distinction to customers, emphasizing that copi, unlike their European counterparts, are mild-flavored and boast high levels of omega-3 fatty acids while maintaining low levels of mercury and other contaminants.

Due to its relatively low demand, copi doesn’t grace the menu at Fucik’s restaurant. Sales of frozen fish patties notably lag behind seafood staples like salmon and tuna. On average, about 100 pounds of copi move in a month, compared to the rapid turnover of salmon, with 100 pounds often selling out in a single day.

“I don’t sell a ton of it, but I don’t mind buying it,” Fucik says. “It’s a good cause, and it’s a good fish. And it would be nice to figure out a way to eradicate [them].”

Invasive carp found their way into American waters through deliberate introduction, as detailed in the 2017 book The Death and Life of the Great Lakes by Milwaukee Journal Sentinel reporter Dan Egan. In 1963, researchers at a federal lab in Arkansas advocated for importing these bottom-feeding fish as a natural means of water purification, aiming to reduce reliance on chemical treatments. Amidst growing environmental awareness spurred by Rachel Carson’s influential book, Silent Spring, which illuminated the dangers of widespread herbicide and pesticide use, there arose a pressing need for alternative, environmentally friendly solutions. The U.S. Department of the Interior’s Fish Farming Experimental Laboratory imported three cardboard boxes of juvenile grass carp, native to Asia and renowned for their insatiable appetite for seaweed, with hopes of them cleaning up weed-choked rivers and irrigation ditches across the Southern United States.

Within a decade of the grass carp’s introduction, an Arkansas fish farmer, in pursuit of his own batch of exotic weed-eating fish, accidentally imported three other Asian carp species: black, bighead, and silver carp. However, these carp didn’t fulfill their intended purpose. Silver and bighead carp, as filter feeders, depleted plankton and other nutrients from the waters they inhabited, while black carp sustained themselves on mollusks. Recognizing the potential ecological threat posed by these species, the fish farmer handed them over to the government. State fishery workers attempted to breed the carp in a laboratory but were unsuccessful. So they released the fish into the river and expected them to perish. To their surprise, the carp thrived and rapidly reproduced.

As reported in Egan’s book, the carp began proliferating in the wild, with baby bighead and silver carp appearing in rivers and streams throughout the South. They starve out their competition by stripping away the plankton upon which every other fish species directly or indirectly depends. Bighead carp can grow larger than 100 pounds and consume up to 20 pounds of plankton daily. The invasive carp biomass in some stretches of rivers in the Mississippi basin is thought to be more than 90 percent.

Silver carp, slightly smaller than bighead carp, have gained notoriety as YouTube sensations due to their tendency to leap out of the water like aquatic missiles when disturbed by the sound of a boat motor. This makes them a significant concern for recreational industries and water sports. Their disruptive behavior, coupled with their impact on the fish market, make them a primary target among interest groups for government intervention.

“The Great Lakes provide a lot of jobs and bring a lot of money into the region,” says Molly Flanagan, chief operating officer at Alliance for the Great Lakes, who works on invasive species policies. “If invasive carp get into the lakes or get into the rivers that feed the lakes, it could have devastating consequences for our $7 billion a year fishing industry and our $16 billion a year recreational boating industry across the region.”

Around 2010, the invasive carp crisis gained high-level policy attention. Following the aftermath of Hurricane Ida in 2009 (there were concerns fish would jump over to the other lake due to the hurricane), policymakers rushed to devise strategies to prevent the intrusion of carp into the Great Lakes, according to Flanagan. A study conducted by the Great Lakes Commission explored various measures to impede carp from migrating northward, including a proposal to reverse the flow of the Chicago River (again) to sever the connection between the Great Lakes and the Mississippi River Basin — an essential conduit for invasive species movement. However, the exorbitant costs associated with this plan rendered it unfeasible, Flanagan said. Nevertheless, the study prompted Congress to urge the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers to conduct its own investigation.

Among the options explored is the inclusion of the fish on restaurant menus. The White House had appointed a special committee to address the invasive carp issue, and it was keen on exploring the possibility of turning them into a food source. To test the market, they enlisted out-of-state chefs to prepare complimentary samples, offering them frozen carp at no cost.

In 2010, Fucik received a call from the White House. Initially dismissed as a scam, the phone call proved to be legitimate when Fucik got in touch with the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. Fucik’s lifelong passion for fish stems from memories of growing up in a Catholic household where fish was a dietary staple, plus regular summer fishing trips with his uncle. After working in the fish market for several years, he opened his store. So when it turned out the call really was from the White House, Fucik immediately embraced the invitation and began to experiment with new recipes incorporating the fish.

The same year, Fucik showcased hundreds of carp burgers at Taste of Chicago, a summer food festival in the city. Despite initial hesitation from some diners, many found themselves pleasantly surprised by the taste. As word of mouth spread, eager patrons quickly formed lines in front of his venue.

Then, Fucik noticed a decline in the momentum of the campaign. He attributes this downturn to an incident in Minneapolis, where an Asian business delegation arriving at the airport was confronted with a sign urging them to “Kill Asian Carp,” a well-intentioned plea aimed at curbing the spread of the invasive species. The visitors found the message off-putting.

In 2014, Minnesota state senators successfully passed a measure mandating that Minnesota agencies designate the fish as “invasive carp.” This move was adopted by other government agencies during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic in response to the surge in anti-Asian hate crimes. According to the Associated Press, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service changed its designation to “invasive carp” in 2021.

In Illinois, the main concern is the infiltration of carp into Lake Michigan via the Illinois River, which connects to the Great Lakes through the Chicago Sanitary and Ship Canal. To counter this threat, the state has implemented a series of measures — electronic barriers, locks, and dams strategically positioned at key choke points along the waterway –– to prevent the fish from swimming upstream into Lake Michigan. By deploying multiple barriers, policymakers hope that even if an invasive carp could bypass one, it would encounter another barrier, the DNR’s Schoenung says. The state also implemented contracted removal efforts, paying 10 cents per pound to fishers to incentivize commercial harvesting. According to Schoenung, since the autumn of 2019, approximately 22 million pounds of carp have been removed through these initiatives. Targeted removal has reduced the fish’s population by half and successfully prevented invasive carp from establishing a population in Lake Michigan. In the South of Joliet’s Brandon Road Lock and Dam, the carp population has decreased by nearly 90 percent, according to Schoenung.

Xuandi Wang/Eater Chicago

Following the earlier marketing attempts, the copi campaign emerged as a pivotal initiative to provide an outlet for commercial fishers to offload their catch. A majority of the harvests find their way into fertilizers, pet meals, and bait for lobsters and crayfish in Southern states. However, recognizing the nutritional value of carp — high in protein and omega-3 fatty acids — and its status as one of the most consumed fish worldwide, there’s a compelling case to diversify the use of these fish by incorporating them into the domestic food market. The high costs of transportation hindered efforts to simply export the fish.

“By doing so, you’re making the best use of a valuable resource, and you’re also incentivizing harvest,” Schoenung said.

In other regions, particularly in Asia, copi is an essential part of the culinary culture. Historical records trace Chinese consumption of carp back to the Tang Dynasty, according to the U.N. During this period, the family name of the emperor sounded similar to the Chinese name for Eurasian carp, or common carp, the only fish cultured in China at the time. To avoid potential political innuendo, the royal family prohibited the sale and consumption of common carp by the public. This restriction led farmers to turn to alternative species for aquaculture, including bighead carp, silver carp, grass carp, and black carp. These species thus thrived in China and became significant protein sources, symbolizing fortune.

Many ethnic groups are bewildered by Americans’ aversion to the fish. The phenomenon even caught the attention of a Korean television outlet that dispatched a crew to interview Fucik. Schoenung noted that the fish’s name change has little impact on the international markets in the U.S. Many foreigners are accustomed to eating carp and indifferent to the stigma around its former name.

Johnny Zheng, an established entrepreneur based in Chicago’s Chinatown, has become an organic participant in the campaign in recent years. Hailing from China’s Eastern Fujian province, he fondly remembers eating carp cakes and carp fish balls during his childhood. Propelled by a strong sense of cultural pride, he says he has made it his mission to challenge the negative perceptions surrounding carp by introducing it to mainstream markets.

In his role as president of the Mid-America Restaurant Association, Zheng discovered a factory specializing in repurposing carp into fertilizers and animal feed. Frustrated by how his cherished childhood delicacy was underutilized, he took over the factory and resolved to transform the fate of the fish by redirecting them to the dinner table.

“When Asian carp make headlines, the coverage is always negative. It’s reminiscent of other narratives about things from China such as its technology — a portrayal of invasion into mainstream American society and driving out its local supply,” Zheng says. “I know this narrative is wrong and want to prove that Asian carp are not mere ‘trash fish.’ They can be delicious and serve as a valuable source of protein.”

Zheng’s primary customers are Chinese, and not the average American. To reshape the fish’s public perceptions, Zheng invested substantial capital in transforming carp into packaged goods. His factory produces fish heads, as well as fish balls and fish noodles. These products have gradually found their way onto the shelves of numerous Asian groceries. In 2022, he opened another restaurant, A Fusion, in Chicago’s Bridgeport neighborhood, to prominently feature the fish on the menu. By creating a dedicated supply chain and culinary outlet for carp-based delicacies, Zheng says he hopes to promote their consumption while honoring their culinary potential.

Despite waning media attention to the cause, Zheng says he remains committed to popularizing copi among U.S. customers. While his investment has yet to yield a noticeable outcome, he says he is faithful that his investment will soon generate an impact.

Schoenung says he expected the campaign to be a marathon. Creating a market for something unfamiliar to many U.S. diners will take more than an overnight operation, but he remains confident that it will eventually take off.

“We’ve got the right pieces in place — we’ve got the marketing, we’ve got the stories, and we’ve got the fish supply,” Schoenung says. “Just building those other pieces, and linking it all together, I am very hopeful and very confident that we’re going to be able to do that.”

For now, Fucik plans to continue to sell copi in small amounts, holding onto hope for future funding that would allow him to host more events promoting the fish. He remains optimistic that public perception of the fish might change through continuing media exposure. Perhaps a headline reporting an injury caused by carp leaping out of the water could reignite interest in consuming the fish, thrusting it back into the news cycle, he says.

“I’m sure we’ll have another surge in interest at some point in time when something comes up,” Fucik says. “Somebody will get hit by a carp in the head in their boat and it’ll make the news. Then all of a sudden they’ll get resurrected again, and they’ll be showing all the videos and then it’ll trickle down to me again. Things get recycled because there is always a new generation of people who haven’t heard about it.”