I remember many years ago reading how Salmon meat coloration was a by product of its diet, and I can’t help feel for the Ph.D in the art department tasked with turning discolored and mushy salmon fillets into vibrant orange flesh.

Scientists are jubilant over the nearly vegetarian (contains chicken) diet they’re shoveling at pen raised fish – but I’d prefer just leapfrogging the normal fare – ignoring the things we can make them eat, and feed them the “end game” of culinary science, which is human waste.

“Fish have an amazing capacity to adapt very quickly to a new taste,” Obach said in an interview. “Salmon eat what you give them.”

Forget all that “sustainability, superior product”, nonsense – all we want is whatever follows in our wake to not impinge on the stuff we like to eat. Chicken is pretty darn tasty – there’s no way I like Salmon enough to share, and Rapeseed may make the best Oatmeal cookie ever – until I sample it I can’t be sure.

I know the cash-strapped waste management districts would leap at the chance to show their “green” fervor; touting their massive fishery just outside of New York, Los Angeles, or large urban venue, replete with green lawns, families on picnic – and Poppa heaving yet another 20 pounder onto the bank for dinner…

I’d call it “Sani-World” or “Six Flags of Poilet Taper” – something that’ll jam the parking lots full of eager families and restore angling as a full on tradition.

Brownliner’s would be overjoyed – each sewage outlet home to thousands of gleaming Salmon – shouldering Carp aside to fight over sanitary napkins and medical waste. With only a manhole cover separating you from a trophy fishery, it would decrease our dependence on fossil fuels, perhaps increasing our dependence on Tums, but they’re sourced locally and little issue.

The real measure of fish quality is whether the Fillet O’ Fish sandwich holds its shape absent the bun, and while we cram deep fried Snickers and Ice Cream, we’re confident that fillet will be met with great anticipation and your kids bursting with important Omega-3’s and Estrogen.

A blend of urbane and outdoor architectures, with concrete abstract boulders, sweeping lawns, and overhanging Eucalyptus lining septic pools connected with gray water cataracts – featuring olden names like the Mill Pool, the Coachman, and the Tweed…

Waste matter recycled by each pool’s inhabitants, the grilse would be frolicking in clean water with only the insolubles to digest; peanuts, tubers, and plenty of raw fiber – just the kind of nutrition to imbue tone and musculature to flaccid flesh.

Squeamish?, practice Catch & Release – no one’s forcing you to eat the darn fish.