These Callos (Scallops) are fresh!

After a particularly long run of WORK, with almost no days off since July Fourth, Bob and I decided on a much needed few days rest in Mexico. I know what you're thinking, "too damn dangerous"! Maybe so, but it was also very much worth it! After a leisurely breakfast overlooking the ocean at Manny's in Puerto Penasco, we ventured on south to el Desemboque. (one of two towns with the same name within fifty miles of one another) a tiny fishing village on the Sea of Cortez. "Our" little town is on the desolate, and spectacular, desert west coast of Sonora, our neighboring state south of Arizona. We had had a rough night before, so we went straight to our motel. It's the only one in town, very cute and clean. Our room faced the ocean and the views were spectacular! We immediately placed our reclining lawn chairs on the veranda, mixed drinks and commenced keeping a close watch over the sea. (Just in case something happened.) We were fortunate to arrive at our destination when the moon was in a quarter phase which means the tides were right for harvesting the callos. (Scallops to us) We watched, over coffee, each morning as the pangas raced to a spot about three or four miles out. We could see them well with our super binoculars as they lined up on the horizon and deployed the divers. By early afternoon the boats would come speeding back to us, laden with their catch. The shells of the scallops would be clearly visible, piled high above the sides of the pangas as they sat very low in the water. The launcheros would get busy hauling the boats from the water as fast as they could and take each one the the captain's home. Most would be slid from the trailer to a spot on the ground under a shade tree. At that point, a crowd would gather and the frenzied work of shucking would begin. Soon, the large pile of callos in the boat would become a large pile of shells on the ground. Buckets would abound with the freshly harvested, meaty adductor muscles of these delicious sea mollusks. Children would move the meat morsels around in the sand, then men would rinse them by swishing them vigorously in big tubs of sea water. The work is grueling and only finished for
the day after the last scallop has been shucked, weighed and bagged to sell. At sunrise the next morning the entire cycle begins again.
We knew we would never find fresher scallops than these, (nor pescadores who needed the income worse). Bob set out walking from boat to boat along the beach to negotiate for the delicacy. This is one of his favorite things to do. His Spanish is lousy and few of the sellers spoke English. It doesn't seem to matter to anyone. They laugh and slap each other on the shoulders and make the deal. Everyone is happy and we get to bring home some fabulous seafood from one of our favorite locales! bon appetit!