If you’ve noticed seaweed showing up somewhere other than a sushi roll lately—sprinkled over focaccia, blended into pesto, even tucked into “seaweed salt” grinders next to the flaky Maldon—you’re not imagining things. Seaweed is having a moment.
And it raises a delicious question: Is seaweed the next Mediterranean superfood?
The Mediterranean diet already has a pretty solid PR team—olive oil, legumes, whole grains, seafood, mountains of vegetables, the occasional glass of wine, and a lifestyle that includes actual sitting down to eat. UNESCO even recognizes it as cultural heritage, not just a nutrition plan, because it’s wrapped up in local knowledge, rituals, and community life. (Yes, your nonna’s lunch table counts as intangible heritage.) [UNESCO]
So where does seaweed fit into that story—historically, nutritionally, ethically, and on the plate?
First: seaweed isn’t “new,” it’s just new to us
The modern Western idea of seaweed is often “Japanese ingredient,” full stop. But coastal Europe has its own long relationship with edible algae.
In parts of Ireland, Scotland, and Wales, for example, red seaweeds like dulse and laver have been eaten for generations—sometimes cherished, sometimes dismissed as “poor food,” but definitely part of local foodways. Accounts of dulse being enjoyed across classes (and even used for barter) show it wasn’t merely desperation cuisine—it was coastal pantry cooking. [Search result: European traditional foods on dulse/laver]
The Mediterranean shoreline is huge and wildly diverse, and while seaweed hasn’t been centered in the region’s everyday canon the way it is in East Asia, the logic of it is still deeply Mediterranean: eat what the sea and the season provide, keep it simple, don’t waste the good stuff.
Why seaweed gets called a “superfood” (and what that really means)
“Superfood” is a marketing term, not a medical diagnosis. Still, seaweed earns the hype in a few real ways—especially when you compare it to the usual nutrient gaps in modern diets.
1) Iodine: the headline nutrient
Seaweed is one of the richest natural sources of iodine, which your thyroid needs to make hormones that regulate metabolism.
But this is also where the caution flag goes up. Iodine content varies dramatically by species and processing, and it’s possible to overdo it if you treat kelp flakes like parmesan.
Europe’s scientific guidance has set an adult tolerable upper intake level (UL) at 600 µg/day. [EFSA/SCF]
Kitchen takeaway: seaweed can be a smart way to boost iodine, but it’s best used like a seasoning (often) rather than a “bowl food base” (daily).
2) Fiber you don’t get from land vegetables
Seaweeds contain unique polysaccharides—think alginates, carrageenans, and fucoidans—that act like soluble fibers and may behave differently in the gut than the fibers you get from beans or oats. Researchers often discuss these seaweed polysaccharides in the context of digestion and potential prebiotic effects. [Search result: seaweed polysaccharides as soluble fibers]
Mediterranean angle: this is right in line with the diet’s strength—lots of plant fibers feeding a healthy gut ecosystem.
3) Minerals and micronutrients (with a side of “it depends”)
Many seaweeds provide minerals like iron, calcium, magnesium, and trace elements. The “it depends” part matters because seaweed also reflects its growing environment—clean waters matter, and sourcing matters.
The sustainability argument: why seaweed might be the most Mediterranean part of all
If you want to make a Mediterranean meal feel contemporary without turning it into a supplement commercial, sustainability is the most compelling reason to invite seaweed to dinner.
Seaweed farming is often described as low-to-no input: no feed, no freshwater, no fertilizer—just sunlit seawater and good management. [FAO search result]
That’s a pretty stunning contrast to many land-based crops and to a lot of animal protein. It fits the Mediterranean spirit of thrift and seasonality—using what your landscape (or seascape) can provide without forcing it.
But let’s be honest: there are real risks and real nuance
Seaweed is food, not fairy dust.
Iodine overload
Already covered, but it’s the most common concern. If you have thyroid disease or take thyroid medication, it’s worth talking to a clinician before making seaweed a daily habit.
Heavy metals and arsenic (especially hijiki)
Certain seaweeds can contain higher levels of inorganic arsenic. Hijiki is the most frequently flagged example; studies have reported notably high inorganic arsenic in hijiki samples. [Search result: hijiki inorganic arsenic]
Practical move: avoid hijiki unless you’re confident in regulatory guidance and sourcing. Stick to commonly sold culinary seaweeds with good testing and labeling.
“Local” isn’t automatically safer
Seaweed harvested from polluted coastal areas can pick up contaminants. This isn’t a reason to fear seaweed—it’s a reason to buy from reputable producers who test and disclose.
So… can seaweed be Mediterranean?
I think the better question is: can seaweed be used in a Mediterranean way? Absolutely.
The Mediterranean diet isn’t a fixed ingredient list; it’s a pattern: plants first, seafood often, modest portions, pleasure and sociability, minimal processing, and a respect for place and season.
Seaweed can slide into that pattern if it’s:
- used as a flavor booster rather than a main character,
- paired with classic Mediterranean ingredients (olive oil, lemon, garlic, tomatoes, legumes),
- sourced responsibly,
- and eaten with the same common-sense moderation you’d apply to salt or cured anchovies.
How to cook seaweed the Mediterranean way (without making it weird)
Here are a few “bridge” ideas—familiar formats, subtle seaweed presence.
1) Seaweed-lemon gremolata (for fish, beans, and roast veg)
Finely chop parsley + lemon zest + a small pinch of crushed dried seaweed (nori or dulse) + garlic + olive oil. Spoon over grilled sardines, roasted cauliflower, or a bowl of white beans.
2) “Umami” pantry boost for tomato sauces
Add a thumbnail-sized piece of kombu to a simmering tomato sauce for 10–15 minutes, then remove it. You’re not making it taste like the ocean; you’re rounding out the bass notes.
3) Mediterranean seaweed salt
Blend flaky salt with ground seaweed and a little dried oregano. Use it to finish tomatoes, cucumbers, or a simple fried egg.
4) Legume soups that taste like they simmered all day
Drop a small strip of kombu into lentil or chickpea soup as it cooks, then fish it out. It adds depth the same way a parmesan rind does.
Buying guide: what to look for
- Clear labeling (species, origin, producer)
- Testing/quality info when available
- Culinary species you’ll actually use: nori, dulse, wakame, kombu/kelp (in small amounts)
- Avoid hijiki unless authoritative safety guidance in your region explicitly supports it
Verdict: seaweed isn’t the next Mediterranean superfood—it’s the next Mediterranean ingredient
“Superfood” implies a shortcut. The Mediterranean diet doesn’t really do shortcuts; it does habits.
Seaweed, used thoughtfully, can add minerals, marine savoriness, and a sustainability win—without bulldozing the culture of the table. It’s not here to replace olive oil or chickpeas. It’s here to sit beside them, like a new friend who turns out to be oddly good at conversation.
Sources (online)
- UNESCO on the Mediterranean diet as intangible cultural heritage. [UNESCO]
- European Scientific Committee on Food / EFSA summary noting adult iodine tolerable upper intake level 600 µg/day. [EFSA/SCF]
- Research summaries describing seaweed polysaccharides (alginates, carrageenans, fucoidans) as soluble fibers. [Search result]
- FAO information describing seaweed (and shellfish) farming as low-to-no input (no feed, freshwater, fertilizer). [FAO search result]
- Published findings reporting high inorganic arsenic levels in hijiki samples. [Search result]
*(If you want, tell me where you live and what kind of seaweed you can buy locally—I can suggest a Mediterranean-style “starter kit” that fits your market.)
