Monaco, The Oceanographic Museum and the chefs: When the Reality of the Oceans Reaches the Plate

There is something about sitting in the auditorium of Monaco’s Oceanographic Museum that makes the weight of its history immediately apparent. Overlooking the Mediterranean, in a room where heads of state have spent decades defending the cause of ocean, the question of what we choose to put on our plates takes on an entirely different significance.

This was precisely the ambition behind the gathering, held in the Principality alongside the Michelin Guide Ceremony: to bring scientists, journalists and members of the gastronomic community together and confront them with a reality that chefs still too often overlook. What is happening in our oceans today raises a fundamental question about the future availability of the resources on which we depend.

“When I look at everything that has taken place in this room, at the heads of state who have spoken here over the years, I realise how far we have come,” reflects the museum’s chief curator, who is closely involved in Monaco’s ocean policies. His words immediately establish the context in which the discussions will unfold. Gastronomy cannot be considered separately from the environmental challenges facing the planet. The decisions made in kitchens are directly connected to them.

A visit to the “Mediterranean 2050” exhibition naturally extends that reflection. Rather than presenting an abstract vision of the future, it explores two possible trajectories for the Mediterranean: a sea gradually depleted of life, or one capable of regenerating through collective decisions. Between these two scenarios lies an increasingly narrow margin for action, defined by the choices being made today.

A shared responsibility between chefs, the media and policymakers

The management of marine resources can no longer be approached as a purely technical matter. It has become a systemic challenge, involving a network of actors whose decisions influence one another, often far beyond their immediate sphere of activity.

Chefs occupy a central position within this system. Through their sourcing decisions, they influence demand in ways that are often invisible to the public but carry considerable consequences. Putting a species on a menu gives it commercial value while reinforcing its place in gastronomic culture. Removing it sends a signal throughout the supply chain. Choosing to work with an abundant species rather than one whose population is under threat is therefore an economic and ecological decision, with implications extending well beyond the preparation of a dish.

Gastronomic media have played an equally significant role in shaping public perception. For years, the repeated celebration of certain species, including wild sea bass, turbot and langoustines, helped establish standards of desirability that were frequently disconnected from the actual condition of marine stocks. This sustained attention contributed to concentrating demand on a limited number of products, increasing the pressure already placed on their populations. The responsibility of food journalism is now evolving. Describing a dish requires an understanding of what lies behind its ingredients, the conditions in which they were obtained and the consequences of their production. The story of a product cannot end with its arrival in the kitchen.

Public authorities establish the regulatory framework within which these decisions take place. Through fishing quotas, certification systems and economic incentives, policymakers are responsible for ensuring that exploitation remains compatible with the natural capacity of marine resources to renew themselves. Yet regulatory action is frequently slow, constrained by competing interests and, at times, strikingly out of step with the urgency of ecological change.

Chefs, the media and policymakers therefore form an interconnected system of influence and regulation. When their decisions are aligned, they can accelerate meaningful change. When they move in different directions, they risk reinforcing the very imbalances they are attempting to address.

What makes a fish sustainable?

One of the practical questions raised during the discussions concerned the definition of a sustainable fish. Rather than creating another certification label, the objective was to identify a set of criteria capable of guiding purchasing decisions and the development of restaurant menus.

The preservation of the resource itself is the starting point. A sustainable fish must come from stocks that are not overexploited and be caught through practices that preserve marine habitats and ecological balances. Its origin must be traceable through a transparent and legally compliant supply chain, free from illegal, unreported or unregulated fishing. The environmental consequences of its production must also be considered, including pollution, water and energy consumption, and the extent to which the activity operates within the principles of a circular or blue economy.

Sustainability also has a social dimension. It requires fair remuneration throughout the supply chain, respect for coastal communities and the exclusion of exploitative labour practices. Animal welfare must be taken into account, from farming conditions to slaughter methods. Finally, the product must satisfy the culinary expectations associated with its use. Sustainability cannot become an excuse for compromising on flavour, texture or the sensory qualities that give an ingredient its gastronomic value.

All these considerations depend on one essential condition: traceability. Knowing what we eat, where it comes from and how it was produced is fundamental to establishing lasting trust between producers, distributors, restaurateurs and consumers. Without that transparency, the language of sustainability risks becoming disconnected from the practices it is supposed to describe.

Blue food: understanding the system behind the plate

The concept of blue food, referring to foods derived from aquatic environments, introduces a different way of understanding gastronomy and the living resources on which it relies. It encourages us to look beyond the product itself and consider the wider system that makes its presence on a plate possible.

Until now, seafood has largely been assessed through sensory and technical criteria: freshness, seasonality, provenance and preparation. Blue food introduces another dimension by examining the overall relationship between a product and its environment. Every fish, shellfish or seaweed becomes the visible result of a complex set of interactions involving marine biology, climate change, the economics of supply chains and human activity.

Such an approach requires a more nuanced understanding of culinary value. A product may be exceptional in terms of flavour and texture while raising serious concerns about the circumstances of its origin. Conversely, a resource that has received little gastronomic attention, such as an invasive species or a locally available seaweed, may offer a relevant response to pressures affecting an entire ecosystem.

The ecological dimension concerns the condition of marine stocks, the environmental impact of fishing techniques and the preservation of habitats and breeding grounds. The difference between bottom trawling and line fishing, for example, cannot be reduced to a question of method alone. Each practice must be understood through its consequences for the surrounding environment and the long-term viability of the resource.

The economic dimension considers the sustainability of local supply chains, the balance between production and demand, and the effects of consumer trends that concentrate fishing pressure on a handful of species perceived as particularly desirable. A resource may be abundant, yet the economic structure surrounding its exploitation can still create imbalances that undermine its long-term viability.

The cultural and gastronomic dimension is equally important. Chefs and the media influence the way consumers understand ingredients, develop preferences and establish expectations. Their ability to introduce unfamiliar species into culinary culture, encourage new habits and reconsider what makes a product desirable can influence the distribution of demand across marine resources.

Cooking thus becomes a place where choices are made between different possible futures. A comparable evolution has already taken place in agriculture, where the emphasis gradually shifted from yield towards quality and, increasingly, towards environmental impact. Seafood is now following a similar trajectory, with an additional difficulty: much of what happens beneath the surface of the oceans remains invisible to those who ultimately consume their resources.

A world that depends on seafood

Any meaningful discussion of sustainable gastronomy must acknowledge a fundamental reality that is often overlooked in conversations among Michelin-starred chefs. More than three billion people depend on aquatic foods for a significant proportion of their protein intake.

Across many coastal and island regions, particularly in Southeast Asia, sub-Saharan Africa and the Pacific, that dependence cannot easily be replaced by alternative food sources. Marine resources are directly connected to the food security of entire populations, giving the global discussion about seafood consumption a profound geographical and economic imbalance.

In Western markets, seafood is frequently associated with choice, pleasure and gastronomic culture. Consumers select particular species according to their preferences, purchasing power or the reputation established around a product. Elsewhere, fish and other aquatic foods form an essential part of the daily diet, with few realistic substitutes available.

Western demand places considerable pressure on a relatively small number of highly valued species, including tuna, sea bass, cod and salmon. This concentration affects international supply chains, redirects commercial flows and increases competition between local food requirements and exports destined for premium markets. The consequences extend to the stability of fish stocks and the ability of coastal communities to retain access to resources on which their livelihoods depend.

The challenge is therefore to reconsider how seafood is consumed. Diversifying the species we eat, giving greater recognition to lesser-known products and incorporating seaweeds or certain invasive species into our diets can help distribute demand more evenly across marine ecosystems. The question concerns the composition of consumption as much as its volume, and the ability of gastronomy to participate in that adjustment.

Marine resources are reaching their limits

One observation has become increasingly difficult to ignore. Global capture fisheries production has remained around 100 million tonnes annually for several decades, despite continuous advances in fishing technology. Vessels have become more powerful, fishing grounds have expanded into increasingly remote parts of the oceans, and detection equipment has grown considerably more sophisticated. Yet these developments have not produced a corresponding increase in catches.

This apparent ceiling reflects a biological constraint rather than a technological one. Marine ecosystems can sustain only a certain level of exploitation. Beyond that threshold, increasing fishing capacity does not generate additional resources over the long term. It intensifies pressure on populations whose ability to reproduce and regenerate is already compromised, potentially accelerating forms of degradation from which recovery becomes increasingly difficult.

Aquaculture has undoubtedly transformed the global seafood supply and now exceeds capture fisheries in production volume. Its expansion has provided an additional source of aquatic food, but it cannot be considered an entirely independent solution. Fish farming continues to depend on natural resources, feed ingredients such as fishmeal and fish oil, energy and ecological conditions that are themselves vulnerable to disruption.

The room for adjustment consequently lies increasingly in the way existing resources are used. Their value, transformation and distribution become central considerations in a world where marine production cannot expand indefinitely without consequences for the ecosystems that sustain it.

The European eel: a warning we can no longer ignore

The European eel (Anguilla anguilla) offers one of the most striking illustrations of the current crisis affecting marine and freshwater resources. Over just a few decades, its population has collapsed to a tiny fraction of the levels recorded in the 1970s. The decline has been dramatic, driven by a combination of intensive fishing, the fragmentation of rivers by dams, pollution of aquatic environments and climate change affecting the ocean currents on which its migration depends.

What makes the situation particularly revealing is the extraordinary distance between scientific understanding and practical action. For years, researchers have recommended stopping catches or reducing them drastically to allow the species an opportunity to recover. Yet the implementation of these recommendations remains incomplete, fragmented between countries, traditional fishing practices and the economic interests of communities that have long depended on the eel trade.

The species has consequently become an indicator of a much broader difficulty in the governance of shared natural resources. Its decline exposes the limitations of systems in which scientific evidence, political decisions and commercial interests operate according to different priorities and timescales.

The European eel also reminds us that the deterioration of a population does not necessarily follow a slow or predictable course. Some species experience sudden collapses, and once their numbers fall below a critical threshold, the natural mechanisms that would ordinarily allow recovery may no longer be sufficient. By the time the full extent of the damage becomes apparent, the possibilities for reversing it may already have narrowed considerably.

Bluefin tuna: evidence that regulation can work

Mediterranean bluefin tuna (Thunnus thynnus) offers a different perspective, and one that provides grounds for cautious optimism.

During the 1990s and 2000s, the situation had become critical. Fishing pressure increased dramatically as international demand expanded, driven in particular by the growing Japanese market for sushi and sashimi. Stocks declined at an alarming rate, raising serious concerns about the long-term future of the species.

An international response gradually took shape through the International Commission for the Conservation of Atlantic Tunas (ICCAT). Strict quotas were introduced, permitted catches were significantly reduced, controls were reinforced both at sea and in ports, and fishing seasons came under tighter regulation. These technical measures were accompanied by political and public pressure. Monaco played an active role in that effort, advocating a suspension of bluefin tuna consumption until conditions favourable to the recovery of stocks had been established.

The results are now measurable. Bluefin tuna stocks have recovered, fishing quotas have been reassessed and increased, and the species has returned to a more viable trajectory. The recovery required years of coordinated intervention and demonstrates the importance of maintaining regulatory commitments beyond the immediate political or economic circumstances in which they were introduced.

The experience of bluefin tuna illustrates the effectiveness of regulation when it is collective, binding and properly enforced. It also reveals the timescale involved in restoring a resource that has been subjected to prolonged exploitation. Recovery may take decades, but coordinated action can produce tangible results and reverse a decline that once appeared difficult to contain.

Bluefin tuna is not a perfect model, nor does its recovery mean that the pressures affecting the species have disappeared. Its example nevertheless demonstrates that the trajectory of a marine population can change when scientific recommendations are translated into sustained and enforceable decisions.

Seaweed: an overlooked resource with considerable potential

While pressure continues to mount on many marine animal species, edible seaweeds offer possibilities that remain largely underexplored in Europe. Their potential begins with a mode of production that differs considerably from conventional fishing and land-based agriculture.

Seaweed cultivation requires neither freshwater irrigation nor agricultural land and can operate without many of the inputs associated with conventional food production. Seaweeds absorb carbon dioxide, contribute to the functioning of coastal marine ecosystems and can achieve substantial yields relative to the area cultivated. These characteristics make them particularly relevant to discussions about the future of food production and the diversification of aquatic resources.

Their nutritional qualities are equally significant. Depending on the species, seaweeds can provide complete proteins, minerals, vitamins and antioxidants, while certain microalgae are valuable sources of omega-3 fatty acids. Despite these properties, their potential as food remains only partially developed across much of Europe.

Seaweed already appears in some chefs’ kitchens and is widely used in industrial food production, particularly as a thickening agent or colouring ingredient. Yet it rarely occupies a central position in the composition of a gastronomic dish. Its presence is often functional or supplementary, rather than being recognised as the foundation of a culinary preparation.

The challenge is largely cultural. Seaweed needs to move beyond its status as a marginal ingredient and establish itself as a recognised component of contemporary gastronomy, with its own flavours, textures and possibilities for preparation. Its integration into established culinary traditions has long been evident in many parts of Asia, while Iceland, Norway and Brittany in France have also developed considerable knowledge and experience in its use.

Across Europe, however, there remains substantial room for development. Chefs have an important role in accelerating this transition through their ability to explore unfamiliar ingredients, demonstrate their culinary potential and influence consumer preferences. By giving seaweed a more prominent place on the plate, they can contribute to a gradual change in the way aquatic resources are understood and valued.

Invasive species: how chefs and tastemakers can turn an ecological challenge into a resource

Within increasingly fragile marine ecosystems, certain species appear as anomalies. Their presence disrupts established balances and creates pressures for which local environments are often poorly prepared. Yet these same species, considered from the perspective of food production, may also offer opportunities for intervention.

Invasive species, introduced or displaced beyond their original ecosystems, can proliferate at the expense of native populations. Two examples have attracted particular attention in the Mediterranean: the lionfish (Pterois miles), which entered through the Suez Canal from the Red Sea, and the blue crab (Callinectes sapidus), originating from the Atlantic.

The lionfish, with no established natural predators in the Mediterranean capable of controlling its expansion, preys heavily on native fish populations. The blue crab has become a significant source of disruption for fishing communities along several Mediterranean coastlines. Their proliferation has documented ecological consequences, from intensive predation on local species to changes in food webs and the degradation of certain seabed habitats.

Their presence nevertheless opens up a practical possibility: incorporating these species into the human food chain. Consumption alone cannot resolve the ecological problems associated with invasive populations, but targeted harvesting can contribute to their management while transforming an environmental pressure into a resource with potential economic value.

Some supply chains are already developing around this approach. In the eastern Mediterranean, blue crab is now caught, processed and exported commercially, while lionfish has begun appearing on the menus of a small number of pioneering restaurants. These initiatives demonstrate that an ingredient initially perceived as a problem can acquire a different status when culinary knowledge and commercial structures begin to develop around it.

The main obstacle remains cultural. Neither species has yet established a significant place in the European gastronomic imagination. Consumers are often unfamiliar with them, while restaurateurs have rarely presented them as products worthy of attention. Their absence from menus perpetuates that unfamiliarity, limiting demand and discouraging the development of more structured supply chains.

Chefs have a particularly important role in changing this perception. By introducing invasive species into their cooking, developing techniques suited to their characteristics and explaining their ecological context to diners, they can gradually establish new forms of demand. Gastronomic media can accompany that process by making these ingredients more familiar and providing the information necessary to understand their place within Mediterranean ecosystems.

At a broader level, such initiatives may contribute to redistributing pressure across marine resources while supporting efforts to control invasive populations. They illustrate how the influence of chefs and other culinary tastemakers can extend beyond consumer preferences and become part of a practical response to environmental change.

The choices made in kitchens will shape the future of our oceans

Taken together, the discussions at Monaco’s Oceanographic Museum reveal a reality that can no longer be ignored. The sea cannot continue to be treated as an inexhaustible source of food. It is a living system under pressure, whose capacity to regenerate depends directly on decisions made at every level, from fishing communities and supply chains to restaurant kitchens, dining tables and public policy.

Marine resources have limits. Some species are collapsing, others are recovering, while others are appearing in ecosystems where they were never expected. These developments are changing the way aquatic foods must be understood. Their value can no longer be assessed solely through their culinary qualities or their commercial importance. The biological condition of the resource, the economic structures surrounding its exploitation and the cultural expectations shaping its consumption now form part of the same assessment.

For gastronomy, this evolution carries considerable implications. The selection of ingredients and their preparation remain essential to the work of a chef, but the responsibility attached to those decisions extends further. Every sourcing choice, every species highlighted on a menu and every message communicated to diners contributes, in some measure, to shaping the future of marine resources. Such decisions can support the recovery and stability of an ecosystem or add to pressures that are already threatening it.

Monaco’s Oceanographic Museum occupies a particular position at the intersection of science, politics and culture. Its history and the work carried out within its walls offer a setting in which these different communities can confront their perspectives and develop a better understanding of their shared responsibilities.

The discussions held there also underline the importance of bringing scientific knowledge closer to the people whose professional decisions influence how marine resources are used. The distance between understanding a problem and changing established practices remains considerable, particularly in an industry where culinary traditions, commercial expectations and consumer habits have developed over generations.

The conversation begun in Monaco cannot remain confined to conference rooms and scientific institutions. Its implications must now become part of the everyday decisions made in professional kitchens, where the future of marine resources is also being determined, one ingredient and one menu at a time.


Our thanks to the teams at Monaco’s Oceanographic Museum for the quality of the discussions and their continued commitment, as well as to the speakers and professionals working in the field who are helping to develop a more informed, considered and lasting approach to the way we understand marine resources.

Leave a Reply

Discover more from Orange Is The New Chef

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading