Mazatlan- Mexico's Pacific Pearl

By Susie Ellison and Shari Scheske


YOU'D EXPECT TO FIND SOME decent shrimp in a town that holds the Guinness record for the world's biggest shrimp cocktail (weighing in at 1,187 lbs). Mazatlán is home to the largest shrimping fleet in the Pacific and its catch supplies markets and restaurants all over Mexico.

A pulmonia is the preferred method of transportation in this laid back but lively port city in the state of Sinaloa on Mexico's northern Pacific coast. Flag down one of these oversized golf carts and you can whizz around town, hopping on and off as you please for a few pesos a ride. Our Spanish needs improvement but it didn't take long to master "A Mercado!" To the market!

   Mazatlán's impeccable shrimp are displayed in heaping tubs of ice at the Mercado Camarón (shrimp market) in the historic district and at impromptu fishermen's stands called camaronera at Playa Norte, one in a string of beaches linked by the promenade that loops around Mazatlán's picturesque bay. (At 13 miles, Mazatlán's malecon is one of the longest in the world). We were determined to eat our fill and to see what local chefs were doing with this ocean bounty.

   We watched the fishermen, who still use traditional small boats and hand nets, unload their catch as frigate birds wheeled overhead and fat pelicans waddled up hoping for scraps. The principal species landed here are Pacific sailfish, marlin, yellowfin tuna, wahoo and dorado. You can have your fish gutted right there on the beach and fried to order on a makeshift stove fashioned from a 44 gallon drum. Meanwhile, far out to sea, the commercial fishing fleet uses purse seine nets and helicopters to haul tonnes of fish destined for the city's large tuna cannery and seafood markets all over the world.
     

At the bustling Mercado Camarón shrimp are graded by size, from the tiny to the truly enormous. There are also glistening heaps of scallops and curly octopus tentacles, buckets of crabs, molluscs and other piscine creatures. We watched a vendor deftly cleaning a dozen huge sea snails for a customer.

"How.. you.. cook?" Susie (with phrasebook) asked the well-dressed woman buying. "I stew them for a long time, with oregano and garlic," the señora replied in perfect English, "They're very tasty!"

   We ate shrimp every way we could find... pan-fried, deep-fried (a specialty at popular El Shrimp Bucket restaurant) and barbecued, in ceviches and cocktails, pounded into a silky pâté and shredded as a filling for tacos and empanadas. Shrimp this pristine can even be eaten raw. At La Puntilla, an open-air restaurant in the port area where you can dine on just-caught seafood amidst the clanging and banging of cargo ships and ferries, we ordered camarones en aguachile - raw, butterflied shrimp dressed with lime juice and hot Serrano chiles. The texture of raw shrimp took a bit of getting used to but its cool silkiness offered a perfect counterpoint to the biting heat of chile and tangy jolt of citrus.

     

At Diego's Beach House, a barefoot hangout with great food and a ringside view of waves breaking on the sand, we had gorgeous shrimp simply grilled over mesquite wood and painted with garlicky butter. Chef Diego Becerra, a native Mazatleco who has returned to his roots after working in the U.S. with celebrity chef Richard Sandoval, introduced us to Sangre de Christo, (Blood of Christ) an inspired mix of beer, seasoning sauce and Clamato juice, and urged us to try his version of pescado zarandeado, a local specialty found on menus all over town. Pescado zarandeado typically involves a whole fish that's butterflied through the spine, cooked over charcoal and topped with grilled vegetables. The dish has its origins in the way fishermen traditionally cooked their catch on the beach over a fire of mangrove wood. Becerra adds a gourmet spin, slathering his fish with a spiced-up mayonnaise,grilling it over mesquite chips (mangrove is now protected) and serving it sin verduras (without vegetables).

The mayo forms a golden crust that keeps the fish from drying out and bastes it with flavour. Rolled into fresh tortillas with pickled red onions and salsa, Becerra's pescado zarandeado made spectacular fish tacos.

   Another Sandoval protégé Mariana Gómez-Rubio holds occasional cooking classes in Mazatlán. She taught us to prepare empanada dough moistened with shrimp shell broth and filled with shrimp machaca. Machaca is a regional Sinaloan dish typically made with shredded beef that's fried and mixed with tomatoes, garlic, onions and chiles, all charred on a comal. In Mariana's version, shrimp took the place of beef.

   Mariana also showed us how to make caguamanta, a mock-turtle stew. Turtle meat was a popular local delicacy in the past but loggerhead turtle (caguama) is now a protected species and these days caguamanta is made with tuna fin and manta ray, which have a similar texture. At lunch we passed around dishes of sliced avocado, Mariana's homemade salsa verde and a fresh white cheese made in a village on the outskirts of Mazatlán. If the only queso fresco you've encountered is the kind you find in North American supermarkets, the artisanal version is a revelation - sweet, creamy and tangy.

   As travelling cooks we're always on the lookout for lodgings with kitchens so we were delighted when Mariana's father invited us to stay at the Melville Boutique Hotel, a former Carmelite convent he has restored and converted into holiday apartments. Alfredo Gómez-Rubio is President of the Mazatlán Historic Project and the driving force behind the revitalization of the city's charming historical quarter, which just twelve years ago was a deserted ruin.

   Technically, the destination billed as Mexico's only colonial city with a beach is a post-colonial city. Mazatlán was visited only sporadically by Spanish traders and the first permanent European settlement was established in the 1820s, after the Mexican War of Independence. Architecturally Mazatlán's historical quarter, with its cobblestone squares and ornate nineteenth century mansions, has more in common with New Orleans than with Mexico's Spanish colonial cities.

   Hotel Melville is located just a few steps away from the social hub of Mazatlán, Plazuela Machado, a tree-shaded square lined with restaurants, cafes, bars and art galleries housed in the elegant buildings that were once home to Mazatlán's wealthy European traders. On one side of the square a pedestrian arcade leads to the beautifully restored Angela Peralta Theatre where we heard the Mazatlán Symphony Orchestra perform Mozart's dramatic Requiem. Another evening we dined under the stars at Pedro y Lola, a picturesque local hangout with live jazz and sidewalk tables overlooking the Plaza.

We worked our way through every shrimp dish on the menu (and a standout dish of octopus with guajillo chiles) sipping margaritas, watching people browsing the evening craft market and listening to some very cool tunes laid down by a bunch of runaway musicians from San Francisco.