Matteo Cooks - Mercado de Pescado

In the morning the stalls open before the sun. You walk down the broken streets with the heat already rising. You pass the men with knives and white boots. You pass the dogs. You pass the smoke from yesterday’s coals. There is no music. Just the sea and the sound of ice cracking.

This is the mercado de pescado. The fish market. It does not lie. It smells like salt and blood. It smells like truth.

The Riviera Maya gives what she wants. No more. No less. Today maybe there is huachinango. Red snapper. Bright-eyed and firm like a fighter who still has something to prove. There is robalo. Snook. Soft and sweet. Good for ceviche when it is hot and the women wear white linen. There is dorado. Mahi-mahi. Gold and lean. It jumps from the pan with butter and garlic.

In Cozumel and Puerto Morelos the fishermen come early. They bring bonito. They bring sierra. They bring amberjack with shoulders like a man who lifts things for a living. There is also the pargo and the cherna. Grouper with white flesh and eyes that have seen the bottom.

But if you ask what is best in all of Mexico you must travel. You must go north to the Sea of Cortez. There is the bluefin tuna. The big one. The deep one. There is the striped marlin and the dorado that tastes like the sun. From Baja you get callo de hacha. The scallops. Big as coins from a Spanish wreck.

In Oaxaca you find the mojarra. In Veracruz the pompano. In Sinaloa the lisa and the curvina. In Nayarit the oysters pulled from the rocks with hands that do not shake.

But here in the Maya coast, you take what the morning gives. You shake hands. You carry the fish home wrapped in newspaper. You clean it in silence. You cook it with respect. You serve it before the sweat dries.

The Maya knew how to cook fish. They wrapped it in banana leaves. They buried it in earth with hot stones. They seasoned it with bitter orange and wild herbs. They let the fire speak. They knew patience. They knew the smoke.

Now we fry it on the comal. We grill it over charcoal. We cook it whole with chiles and lime and salt. We serve it with tortillas and habanero and a cold beer. When it is fresh, you do not need much. Just fire. Just time. Just hunger.

That is how it is done.