Description
There are steamed shrimp, shrimp with black pepper, and shrimp battered and fried to tempura-like crispness. If you can get past the name, there are even shrimp cucaracha — tiny, thin-shelled creatures, deep-fried whole, which do in fact curl up into insect-like objects that have the odd brown gloss of cockroach shells. You crunch into the shrimp cucaracha shell and all, tossing them down like potato chips, scarcely pausing to savor the marine essence concentrated in the head.
Tacos al gobernador? Sure. Crunchy ones, filled with diced shrimp and cheese. Shrimp cocktail? Of course. Aguachile? Coni's Seafood's version, raw, lemon-marinated shrimp arranged in a pinwheel and moistened with a green jalapeño puree, is different from the one you find on the mariscos trucks, stronger somehow, pure marine funk. Ceviche marinero involves chopped raw shrimp, cucumber, tomato and an oddly appropriate sprinkling of slightly unripe diced mango, in a pungent, black sauce lashed with Worcestershire. You've heard of Mazatlan; you understand the shrimp. It's the kind of thing you can wrap your mind around even in an excursion from a cruise ship, and even on spring break.
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