My Mexico     T A B L E_T A L K Old-world retail: Discuss the lost art of bargaining in the Wanderlust area of Table Talk   R E C E N T L Y Deep in the heart of Thailand, Texas By Roger Beaumont Wild-eyed expats swap yarns and squander fortunes in Bangkok's Lonestar bar (01/27/99) Hurricanes and hope in Honduras By Rachel Louise Snyder As the storm-battered Central American country rebuilds, dreams take root (01/26/99) A passion for Pelago By Tanya Shaffer An unlikely village hosts a Rainbow Gathering meets Burning Man meets rave music festival in Italy (01/25/99) This week in travel Wanderlust's selective guide to travel-related news from across the globe (01/22/99) Can this planet be saved? By Don George Mark Hertsgaard discusses his new book about the human toll of global environmental devastation (01/21/99)   Browse the Wanderlust Passages archives     Wanderlust's Official Travel Book Partner		"MY MEXICO" | PAGE 1, 2, 3 - - - - - - - - - - Eating patterns are always more likely to change in the larger urban centers, while in the more isolated rural areas there has to be much more reliance on ingredients readily available. One family I know that lives in Campeche, but also has a ranch about ninety kilometers away, remembers being brought up on what it cultivated: corn, beans, squash, roots, vegetables in various guises, and wild game, especially venison -- before the shooting of it was forbidden to conserve rapidly dwindling stocks. Without doubt, one of the most important foods in Campeche is cazon or dogfish. There are at least five species: cagüay, t'uc t'un, cornua, pech, and jaquetón. These are much preferred over shark, a near relative, for having firmer and less watery meat. Of course, everyone has a preference and will argue hotly in favor of one or the other. Another strong preference is between fresh cazón and asado, the latter grilled until it is slightly charred. The cazón asado in the market was not prepared by the vendors but principally by one man. I thought it would be interesting to see just how it was prepared and, directed by neighbors, went to see him. No, he made all sorts of excuses, including the fact that he did the grilling at four in the morning. Nobody believed him. Perhaps he thought I would set up in competition until someone pointed out that I did arrive in a black police car (lent by a friend in the Justice Department) with a burly escort/chauffeur -- that was enough to make anyone suspicious. After a little scouting around farther up the coast to what was once a prosperous little fishing village, but now invaded by Pemex, we found a man who was semiretired but who had agreed to grill some for us if we brought them to him early the next day. Soon after eight o'clock I was bargaining for two healthy-looking tuctunes and hurried along to Sr. Gregorio. He told us to find a fisherman to clean them, and for a few pesos they were gutted and washed and laid flat with the head, tail, and backbone still intact. But first they had to dry a little in the hot morning sun, a good time to have a typical breakfast of panuchos, filled with cooked cazón and black beans, with beer. By the time we finished, he had the charcoal fire smoldering with a simple metal rack about 6 inches (15.5 cm) above the heat. Grasping the fish by the tail, he threw them one by one, skin side down, onto the grill. From time to time he lifted them up to look at the color, and in about ten minutes (this depends, of course, on how thick the flesh is) he threw them over onto the flesh side and again left them for about eight minutes -- the flesh was about 1 inch (2.5 cm) thick and each cazon was about 3 feet long. I stayed chatting with Sr. Gregorio. He told me that times were bad. Up until a few years ago he was kept busy grilling between 100 and 120 cazón every day. Now he did only a few occasionally but kept himself busy helping his daughter in her small shop, where she also prepared and sold snacks, when he wasn't preparing and salting ray (fish). It takes an expert hand to cut, with geometrical precision, vertical slits through the skin and flesh to expose the bone so that the fish is, in essence "butterflied" out to flatten like a fan. Abanicos de raya cooked with potatoes is a traditional local dish. Most of the cooks I met prefer the species with a shiny gray skin and eye-catching polka dots to the blanca or white species. At one time he had thirty-six people working for him and, apart from the time spent fishing, used to cut and salt more than a hundred fans in twelve hours. It is important, he says, to wash the fish in agua de lluvia (rainwater, an expression I was to hear time and time again; at one time everyone used to collect rainwater, and many still do). Once cut, they are salted, but with sea salt only, and left overnight piled one on top of the other to drain. As soon as the sun was hot enough the next morning, the abanicos were set out to dry for about six hours, depending on the seasonal strength of the sun. The morning I was there, huge boxes were piled high with these fans, all spoken for, except for a few that he let me buy and take to all my new cook friends. Sr. Gregorio lamented that the young men of today do not want to do this work and carry on the tradition. "Se tira mucho suero" -- you lose too much sweat, he said. When not working, he was dressed neatly, sitting in a low chair by the door of the house to catch the sea breeze. He was slow of movement but had skin that many a woman would envy -- due, said his daughter, to his healthy diet of fish and fruit. When the car came back for me, we wrapped the cazón up in several layers of newspaper, but, he warned, if the fish was to travel, it had to be packed with thick layers of epazote in between -- I forgot to ask why. The grilled fish was packed again most carefully, but from the curious glances it was quite evident by the time I reached Mexico City airport that I had come straight from Campeche. Among traditional cooks in Campeche, there is consensus about how to prepare these regional dishes and the ingredients that go into them, with very little variation from one to another. As I have mentioned before, some hotly argue for cazón asado, others prefer fresh cazón, some use chile dulce (a small, wrinkled variety of sweet pepper) in their miniestra -- a basic mixture employed in many dishes using tomatoes, onion, chiles, and often epazote leaves -- some like it hot and use chile seco; others don't. Although shark has a rather watery flesh, it could be used by increasing the amount and squeezing the flesh well before seasoning, or use any firm-fleshed fish such as cod, groupers, etc. While it need not be grilled, purists like me, who try to duplicate as faithfully as possible the traditional methods, will want to do so. To my mind, it does enhance the flavor. One cook I know cooks the cazón and then mixes it with a lot of pounded epazote until it is an appetizing green color. N E X T+P A G E | Recipes from the cooks in Campeche