Three days. 2,500 pounds of fish. One country fair

Billy Whitlock will need all five smokers this morning.

It’s a little before 6 a.m. on Wednesday, July 8. Whitlock and his crew have 53 hours to smoke 2,500 pounds of fish. 

During a normal week, Brandywine Fisheries goes through 500 pounds of hot-smoked fish — mostly Chinook and Coho salmon — between its tiny Springfield shop and 10 farmers markets stretching from Roseburg to Portland. 

But this isn’t a normal week: The seafood market is a first-time food vendor at the Oregon Country Fair. The Brandywine crew is aiming to bring and sell about 10,000 pieces of fish — on top of its weekly market commitments.

“You’re gonna kill my smokers,” Billy Whitlock, 53, tells his dad.

“You’re gonna make enough money to buy new ones,” Brandywine founder Bill Whitlock, 73, quips back. 

With about 45,000 visitors across three days, the Oregon Country Fair is among Brandywine’s biggest events in its 21-year history. 

It’s quite the departure from Bill Whitlock’s early commercial fishing days in 2005, when he bought a boat (the aptly named Brandywine) and began selling fresh fish right off the docks of Winchester Bay. He opened his fish market four years later. Before that, the veteran worked in automotive sales.

By 6:10 a.m., 32 racks are sprayed with canola oil, all five Pit Boss vertical smokers are turned on and the applewood pellets are starting to burn. It’s time to grab the fish.

Getting into the fair

One doesn’t just sign up to be an Oregon Country Fair food vendor. 

The annual art and music festival, now in its 58th year, upholds a rigorous selection process overseen by a special food committee. Vendor hopefuls must include their menu, food prep methods and past vending experience when they apply.

“We are proud of the diverse menus offered around the Fair,” said Vanessa Roy, OCF’s Marketing Manager, in an email. “The application process includes a mission to find new flavors for our Fair.”

Earlier this year, Brandywine Fisheries threw in its hat alongside 76 other food booth applicants. Of those, the OCF Food Committee invited 15 in for the tasting round.

Snagging a food booth at OCF is a rare feat, organizers and vendors told Lookout Eugene-Springfield, especially if it’s your first year applying, as was the case with Brandywine Fisheries. 

“The acceptance rate varies based on available space,” Roy said. “There are years when we do not take applications for new food booths because all our chefs are returning.”

This year, seven new food booths made it to the fair. That’s about a 9% acceptance rate.

“I’ve known people that applied for 15 to 20 years and never got in there,” Bill Whitlock said. “So I didn’t think there was much hope.”

But his son, Billy Whitlock, knew Brandywine Fisheries made the cut when they handed out smoked fish samples to the OCF Food Committee. 

“A couple of people were reaching for seconds,” he said.

Ready the smokers

Billy Whitlock knows his smoke.

Born and raised in Texas (his parents were both in the military and stationed near San Antonio), he ran a barbecue restaurant for many years before moving to Oregon in 2023 to help his dad run Brandywine Fisheries. 

In Texas, he used to stay up all night to watch the restaurant’s smoker (for true Texas barbecue, Billy Whitlock says it’s got to be mesquite or oak wood, never hickory), adjusting vents and ensuring the right temperature for 12 hours straight.

Whether brisket or fish, wood choice is key. It’s what imparts the smoky flavors.

“Applewood is real subtle, and there’s a little bit of sweetness,” he said. “Perfect for smoking fish.”

Brandywine’s three-day smoke process starts with brining fish in salt, sugar, cloves and all spice.

“It wasn’t my recipe,” Bill Whitlock said. “It’s as old as can be, came from a bunch of old fishermen down in Winchester Bay.”

During the next 24 hours, the brine dissolves and draws out moisture, leaving behind a dark liquid. The crew drains and rinses the fish and takes off the lid, leaving it to dry out overnight.

Billy Whitlock touches the fish to check it’s dried out enough for its final stop: the smoker. He has the Fair crew members do the same. He wants them to know the right texture, temperature, color, placement.

“My dad — he reemphasized this yesterday — he goes, ‘Look, our goal is to put out a gourmet product at an affordable price,’” Billy Whitlock said.

By 6:30 a.m., the fair crew — yes, Brandywine hired extra staff to man the booth — pulls out five or six tubs of cured and dried salmon from the fridge. They place about 20 pieces on each of the 32 racks, then roll them on carts to the smoker room in the back.

Billy Whitlock inspects each rack, adjusting pieces that hang off the edge too much. 

He’s a particular guy, or, in his words, “picky.” During the last three years, he’s learned the peculiarities of each smoker: which ones to preheat 25 degrees higher than the recipe calls for (the older ones run cooler than their thermometers claim), where to place thicker cuts of fish (some sides run hotter than others).

“It’s kind of weird to say, but each smoker has its own personality,” he said. 

He carefully slides the full racks into the preheated smokers. By 7:30 a.m., all five are stacked with bouncy pink salmon. 

For the next six hours, Billy Whitlock monitors the temperature and smoke circulation (he never left his Texas barbecue roots). 

The fan is blasting, the timers are set and everyone smells like they’ve been sitting around a bonfire.

Pulled from the smoke

It’s now 1:30 p.m. Billy Whitlock inspects a rack.

“Siri, set a timer for 10 minutes,” he says into his phone, closing the door. 

To the fair crew members he’s training: “The ones that aren’t done will be mushy still.” He presses lightly on a few filets. “You can tell if you touch them. Like these don’t have a crust.”

Over the next 30 minutes he repeats the same dance: Timer, pull, touch test, not yet, timer, pull, touch test, done, turn off, check next smoker, pull, touch test. 

“Before we put it in the fridge, it has to cool down completely,” he explains to his crew, “otherwise you get a bunch of condensation.”

Bill Whitlock dips his head into the smoke room. He’s been running errands — grabbing wood pellets, sour cream and other random necessities from the restaurant store, looking for bleach test strips, going over fair logistics with the crew (“What time should we get there? Nine?” “Eight would be better. Less traffic.” “Should we order more fish?” “Yes.”)

Now he’s placing the cooled fish in large black bins. He’s been a commercial fisherman and fishmonger for over 20 years now, but the rod and smoker run deeper. 

“My father was a logger,” he said. “He had seven kids. We would grow our own food and gather everything from the woods and stuff. Fishing was an important part of that.”

Once the fish are all out, it’s time to clean the smokers of ash and fish oil. A little wipedown with apple cider vinegar and they’ll be ready for the next round. It’s just after 2 p.m. now, about 45 hours until showtime and 10 or so more batches to go.

“We’re a little behind right now, but we’ll catch up,” Billy Whitlock says. 

Opening day

“Get your smoked salmon! $5 and $10 pieces! Locally smoked, locally caught!”

It’s about 10:30 a.m. on July 10, the first day of the Oregon Country Fair. 

Despite getting just 16 hours of sleep over the past four days, Elasah Smith has the vigor of a stadium vendor slinging hot dogs. She tells customers to pick their favorite piece among the sea of gleaming smoked meat.

Smith and her husband, Isaac Smith, have been smoking and setting up for fair all week. Isaac Smith is a chef by trade — the couple ran a breakfast cart in Cottage Grove and are currently building a food bus — and Elasah Smith is a logistics magician. 

Fair preparations are what she calls a “giant group project”: Bill Whitlock delivers fish every morning. Her three boys wheel the coolers to the booth (it’s about a mile walk). Everyone takes turns running four-hour shifts throughout the day. Other vendors, too, offer to help, and often. 

All in all, it takes about 13 people to smoke, transport and sell Brandywine fish at the fair. 

The booth was built by Bill Whitlock’s nephew, Rick Keene, who is also on the fair’s construction crew. He put in about 20 hours over the last few weeks and thrifted a lot of the materials, including a piece of redwood he fashioned into a countertop. 

Smoking round the clock can make you question your sanity a bit, as Elasah Smith did while working at Brandywine well past midnight.

“Then I had fish right out of the smoker,” she said.

Brandywine’s hot-smoked salmon is worth a little sleep deprivation. The meat — firm and succulent, never dry, of course — is an exciting, vibrant pink, candied and briny and woodsy from the smoke.

As a kid, Keene remembers eating smoked salmon out of an old GE fridge in the backyard of Bill Whitlock’s parents, near their apple orchard. 

“It’s part of the family culture, so it’s cool to see our legacy here at the fair,” he said, snacking on a hunk of salmon. 

It’s almost 11 a.m. Opening time.

“This is my first piece of the day,” Keene said.

If you go: Buy smoked fish from Brandywine Fisheries at Oregon Country Fair in Shady Grove, booth No. F20. The smoked fish cart is among 85 food vendors at this year’s fair. Catch the seafood market at farmers markets (including Lane County) and its physical location at 4739 Main St. #1, Springfield.