 Fishing for tacos
By TOM CHEREDAR, For the Williamson Herald
tched.wh@gmail.com
The constant hum of refrigeration units fill the dining area of the Gulf Pride Seafood Restaurant and Market in building No.9 of Franklin’s entrepreneurial district, The Factory.
The humming begins at the far end of the room with two large cases housing black sea bass, blue marlin, catfish, grouper, haddock, swordfish and the list goes on.
Hang a left at the large plaster pirate and the hum continues in the two water filled cases that hold the fresh lobsters, crabs and crawfish—behind that is a full-scale kitchen with its own share of noises.
For customers inside this establishment today, the hum is a minor distraction compared to the delicious seafood offered.
“The place is amazing…every, every single dish,” shouts a customer to the kitchen staff on his way out.
The staff obliges and continues their afternoon rituals.
The menu offers genuine Louisiana style poor boy (pronounced po` boy) sandwiches, seafood gumbo and bisque, live blue crab and boiled crawfish like you’d find in the French Quarter.
“Everything that we do is a traditional household recipe. If you went down to Bayou, Morgan City, Lafayette, and you walk to somebody’s house…that’s the way we cook.”
According to the staff, everything sold in the market can be sold cooked regardless of its appearance on the menu.
“We got a reeeeal Po’ boy here. I can tell ya that,” says owner J.D. Johnson proudly over the humming noises. “Got a real fish taco, too.”
The $1.99 fish tacos are perhaps the best deal on the menu.
“HEY RAUL, FIX ME A FISH TACO FOR THIS GUY!” Johnson shouts across the room to his head cook. “What are we using today?”
Raul DeLacerea, who’s worked at Gulf Pride a little over a year, is a native of Mexico, which is where the fish taco recipe came from.
“Raul has been one of my best guys out here. This is his taco from his home country. That’s a real taco, not a Tex-Mex, a reeeal taco ok? I wouldn’t let anybody make a taco until he (comes in).”
The scraps left over from wholesale restaurant orders are chopped into generous chunks and cooked in Cajun seasoning. They serve as the bottom layer on top of a fresh flour tortilla (not store bought) that is topped with cabbage (not lettuce) and an original Mexican salsa recipe.
“You don’t ever know what you’re gonna get on these tacos. You may be getting $15-18 lb grouper, sea bass, snapper, halibut…” Johnson lists. “We’re usin` the scraps for every portion cut for all these upscale restaurants.”
Nearly $4 million worth of wholesale seafood product passes though Gulf Pride per year, according to Johnson, who says that the restaurant portion is just a small fraction of the business.
If a coastal dock magically appeared inside Franklin’s city limits, it would be located behind The Factory in Johnson’s shop.
“A lot of people don’t’ realize what they’ve got here in Franklin,” Johnson says.
The Franklin location opened three years ago to compliment his primary business selling seafood by the ton.
“We do a tremendous amount of wholesale,” Johnson says, which includes 90 percent of the restaurants in Nashville and surrounding areas.
“I don’t do a lot of corporate—don’t do Red Lobster,” he says. “We do all your primary upscale country clubs and restaurants that are individually owned.
Gulf Pride Seafood does business with Ruth’s Chris, Chop House, Stoney River, Green Hills Grill, Flying Horse, Sapphire, the recently closed Sandy’s Downtown Grille, Brentwood Country Club and several more. The wholesaler also does several sporting event eateries in the Nashville Arena, LP Field and even Titans training camps.
“We do,” he pauses, “...lots… of fish.”
At some point, everyone in this area during the past two decades has probably sampled seafood from Gulf Pride.
“It doesn’t matter who you are, if you’re in this town you’ll buy a fish from me,” he declares.
While Johnson is quick to talk up his product, he’s not trying to compete against the restaurants and markets he sells to.
“I’m not gonna say that because I sell to a lot of different restaurants, which is mainly why I am not in competition,” he says.
In its current state, the restaurant is hardly set up to compete.
Gulf Pride Seafood, unlike five-star rated establishments, allows customers a chance to see the staff in action cutting up fish an excess of eight feet in length though a window that overlooks the dinning room. Of course if gutting fish fails to entertain, there are two large televisions blasting at full volume.
The location behind The Factory does not garner a high level of foot traffic and Gulf Pride’s sparse operating hours—Wednesday to Saturday, 10:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m.— thin the crowd out even more.
Johnson, however, is not exactly slacking off during those three days when the store is closed to the public.
“I wake up about 4 a.m. everyday, seven days a week and make the drive from Kingston Springs to Franklin,” Johnson explains.
From the time he gets to work at 6 a.m. until the store opens, Johnson is unloading hundreds of pounds of seafood, making certain everything gets to the various kitchens around the mid state.
Yet, Gulf Pride Seafood has a loyal customer base, which becomes regulars almost immediately.
“We got one guy that comes in here every, every day and eats—has for probably three years,” Johnson reveals.
The lunch crowd, by far the largest, can pack the place up some days, according to the staff.
“You’d be surprised,” Johnson explains. “You’ll look up and next thing you know this place is packed. The next day there’s nobody.
“Ya know... nobody really knows you’re here.”
DeLacerea says “after (lunch) it quiets down a bit,” but, in a place filled with constant streams of noisemakers— refrigerated cases, bubbling water, clanking pots—perhaps the only thing quieted are growling stomachs.
Posted on: 9/20/2007
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