For a long time we called him the Scallop Guy because, before we’d ever spoken, he swung by Poseidon and gave as a bag of scallops. We saw that he probably used his boat more than anyone else in the marina and that most times he came back to the dock with something he’d caught or speared. And often times he’d drop off a fish filet. Under these circumstances, how could a friendship not grow.
Then one day, consulting our attorney, the Scallop Guy walked into the office. First time we’d seen him shaved, let alone wearing a tie! Turned out, the Scallop Guy was a high-powered attorney with our local law firm.
Happily, on the dock, he’s still the tieless unshaven Scallop Guy and still shares his catch with us.
Just a couple of days ago, he dropped off the collar and belly from a 40 pound white sea bass he’d speared just hours earlier. We’ve often seen – and eaten – Hamachi Kama in Japanese restaurants, but we’d never cooked either collar or belly, the meaty piece behind the gills and extending back toward the tail. It’s fatty even on the leanest fish and it’s reputed to be the tastiest flesh.
So here’s what we did with the Scallop Guy’s gift: marinated it with garlic, a touch of chili oil and fish sauce; a squeeze of lemon, some sesame oil and salt.
We threw it on our famous self raising barbecue, then served it with a soy dipping sauce.
Thank the Sea Gods for the Scallop Guy. Not surprising that we have made such a strong connection. Being out there on the ocean, even being docked close by, changes relationships. Maybe people who spend a lot of time on boats are un poco loco. Whatever it is, we all have so much in common.
And even when the relationship isn’t particularly close, you may be surprised by another boating friend you run into while anchored at Santa Cruz Island, bringing you filets from a 45 lb halibut they had just caught.
That’s boats. We wouldn’t give this lifestyle up for anything!
The Scallop Guy’s fun-loving family!