An Oasis for Shrimp

This evening’s shrimp were deveined and frozen at a time when the Gulf Oil spill was not even a glimmer on BP’s balance sheet. Through the digestive passages of these cryogenic crustaceans passed only the usual amount of oceanic pollutants. Contamination aside, previously frozen could never be as delicious as the shrimp of my dreams: the fresh catch, killed and grilled same day. Now those were some camarones.

Since all I have now is a bag of frozen shrimp, I’m going to cook with them. No skewers here, we’ll save that for the good stuff. Tonight I am making shrimp fried rice. As I look at my humble and disemboweled sea bugs thawing in a colander, I think back to their succulent superiors from Mexico.

Shrimp Serif. These are not the shrimp I am looking for.

My husband and I got married in Puerto Vallarta and stayed on for the honeymoon - along with several dozen of our closest friends and family. We ate out frequently and often in large groups, so when my husband and I discovered a tiny, nameless eatery on the beach, we dubbed it The Oasis and hid out there. For a while it was just the two of us, quietly sipping our Coronas and enjoying that newly married bliss.

The menu at the Oasis seemed to consist of whatever they were pulling out of the ocean. Baby octopus burritos, anyone? At the time, I shied from the octopi; last year was my first foray with the eight tentacled one. Back then, I had the shrimp. Every time I did it was perfection. They were served skewered, pink and naked with a caramel crust along the edges, always paired with freshly chopped jicama and cucumber tossed in chili powder.

It took us ten minutes to walk up beach from our hotel, hot sand giving a little hop to our step. We knew we were close when we could see the glint of the corrugated kitchen shanty, the white plastic furnishings sinking deep into the sand, the red coca-cola umbrellas so low we had to duck to settle in. The Coronas would be in front of us instantly. We got to know the leathery Canadian ex-pat, a fixture under his little umbrella every time we visited. My husband remembers this about The Oasis: “The beer was cold and the shrimps were good.”

Yes, Jon, those were some mighty fine shrimp. As I de-chitin the newly limbered specimens from the colander I am nostalgic, both for good shrimp and The Oasis. On our anniversary, last November, we went back to Puerto Vallarta and made a point of revisiting The Oasis. A lot had changed. The corrugated kitchen shanty is still there, but years of ad hoc carpentry had been put in place. The main dining area had a real floor and ceiling, nary a coca-cola umbrella could be seen. There was a second floor balcony overlooking the ocean, on which Jon and I sat with our beer and reminisced. We talked to the owner about getting some food but they now only opened for a proper dinner hour and we were too early. He told us how the additions had been made over time, but there was a bigger addition looming in his thoughts. It shadowed us as we spoke.

A new hotel was being built directly behind The Oasis, a towering frame of steel. The Oasis proprietor referred to the developers as the Mexican Mob, but I think “friends of the mayor” is probably what he meant. Anyway, the hotel developers wanted this crusty barnacle off the beach and were seeking to shut it down. The owner seemed optimistic about his battle but I fear for the longevity of The Oasis. Big business, now twice over, threatens my shrimp experience.

Pragmatically, in landlocked Boulder, Colorado, I do not have much hope of great seafood. Maybe trout. Shrimp have not been part of the terrior here for several million years, so my expectations for tonight’s shrimp are less than glamorous. All my little grey buggies are laid out for the shrimp fried rice. My reference for this recipe is Madame Wong’s Long-Life Chinese Cookbook, copyright 1977. I bought this cookbook at a thrift store after it was discarded from the local library and I’ve used it for nearly a decade now in all my Chinese food ventures. Madame Wong feels like a friend to me. The cover states that it is for use with the West Bend Electric WOK but I find my gas flame and regular wok to be sufficient.

Shrimp Fried Rice:

½ Pound Fresh Shrimp
1 tsp cornstarch
½ tsp salt
Oil
3 Eggs
4 cups rice
2 tablespoons light soy sauce
1 scallion

Chop the raw shrimp and toss in cornstarch and salt, then fry in 1 tablespoon hot oil for 30 seconds. Set aside. Fry beaten eggs in 2 tablespoons hot oil, scramble fine and set aside. Fry rice and soy sauce in 2 tablespoons hot oil until thoroughly heated. Add shrimp, eggs, and scallion, fry 1 minute and serve.

I did not chop the shrimp and, as always happens when I do not heed Madame Wong, I was disappointed. Chop them, people.