PUNTA MITA, Mexico – It’s almost impossible to speak approximately Mexico without mentioning its various and vibrant food scene. Street meals standbys like tacos al pastor, chilaquiles, and savory-sweet moles generally scouse borrow the highlight. But on a current trip to Punta Mita on the United States of America’s west coast, I experienced seafood as the headliner. Situated on a spear-fashioned peninsula in unexpectedly growing Riviera Nayarit, Punta Mita is a haven for surf enthusiasts, a coveted cope with for second or 1/3 owners, and a vacation spot for oceanic delights like spiny lobster, soft shell crab, and scallops aguachile, often coupled with local elements like guajillo and pasilla chilies and queso Oaxaca.
The tropical paradise, with its ocean views, peak warm weather, white-sand seashores, and roster of luxurious lodges, is the epitome of a lavish dwelling. I generally stay at small, fascinating, boutique hotels; however, for this ride, my boyfriend and I spent our nights at two of the most over-the-pinnacle locations in town: Four Seasons Punta Mita Resort and The St. Regis Punta Mita. We had been a bit hesitant: Would we get a true flavor of Mexican seafood here?
In the world of farm-to-desk dining, the purveyor is regularly crowned king. Still, no longer at Pacifico Beach Club, Punta Mita’s latest seaside club, wherein Chef David Vidales takes sourcing seafood to the next level. We first met Chef Vidales at the lodge’s Latin Grill, where we had a seafood ceremonial dinner on the first night in paradise. We had a spearfishing tour scheduled for later within the week and extended him an invite, keen to witness his craft firsthand. He is widespread.
We met at Playa Cuevas, steps away from the Four Seasons, where Sebastian Melani, a renowned local spearfisherman, and his Spearmex crew have been ready to take us out to the depths of the Pacific. Before we boarded our small boat and set sail, we jumped in a four-foot pool for a few exercises.
Wearing wetsuits that resembled something from Wakanda, we practiced loading a speargun: Secure the spear into the shaft, wrap the taking pictures line, release the protection, enlarge the forearm, pull the trigger, and launch the harpoon immediately into the target. If it’s a hit, drop the gun without delay and reel in the line (and breathe!).
“Got it?” requested Melani. I nodded assuredly earlier than we set off to deeper waters.
The chef is the primary to dive in, floating results easily atop the water. Here, it’s a returned-to-the-basics, subtly primal, virtuous hunt in what seems like an infinite ocean. He’s were given the gadget down: Aim, release, and accumulate the sea’s bounty.
I’m rocked on what looks like the gentle cycle. While my eyes take stock of the fish schooling within the coral reefs, my right forearm, new to this form of muscular isolation, quickly caught pins and needles. Determined, I roll my shoulders back, exhale through the mouthpiece, launch the protection, and take a stab at shooting our soon-to-be-dinner.
My tries are less than successful.
We’re given the sign to move returned on deck. I’m sore and chilly without my wetsuit and enjoy my first bout of seasickness. Nevertheless, I’m thrilled at the sight of a mid-sized fish stuck with the aid of a fellow diver. I won’t go hungry. Once our sea legs acclimated to dry land, we enjoyed the result of our exertions: yellowtail surgeonfish recognized regionally as cirujano. Straight from the wetsuit to the chef’s coat, Vidales presented cirujano servido de tres maneras: char-grilled along with vibrant vegetables; bathed in acid, ceviche-fashion; and blended flawlessly with Mexico’s different gastronomic gem, the avocado. We sipped a mezcal with fresh fruit juice, loved the sunset escaping into the horizon, and went in for seconds.
