On Eating and Loving Food

Scallops: sweet, succulent little muscles from the sea

A scallop is divine in itself
Wed, 09/07/2016 - 8:45am

    “For decades we've been trucking our super fresh, delicious scallops to out of state processing centers where they're mixed in with the stuff from the Federal fishery.  I liken that to pouring a bottle of Dom Perignon into a vat of two buck chuck.” - Togue Brawn

    Scallops are one of those items on restaurant menus I often avoid, not because I don't like them, but because they're pricey.

    They're pricey to cook at home too, selling for around $18 a pound these days in supermarkets and fish markets, but my aunt has a friend who dives for them every year and I have been lucky enough to get a few pounds for a very reasonable price for the past couple years.

    I’ve been calling them dry, or diver scallops.

    But after speaking with one of Maine's leading authorities on scallops, Togue Brawn, I learned there’s really no such thing as a ‘dry scallop.’

    Brawn, who has been involved in Maine’s commercial fishing and seafood industries for over 20 years, was instrumental in helping to bring Maine’s scallop fishery “back from the brink.” Her website, Downeast Dayboat, will tell you everything you want to know about scallops. Maybe most importantly to scallop lovers, Maine’s scallop fishermen are harvesting more than 10 times what they did a decade ago.

    “The term ‘dry’ in scallops is unfortunately largely meaningless,” she said. “It is supposed to mean that the scallops have not been soaked in chemical solutions to plump them. But since no one investigates, substantiates or enforces these claims, people can stick whatever label on them they want.”

    And less than five percent of scallops are actually harvested by divers. The vast majority are harvested by fishermen using draggers. “Maine divers do indeed harvest delicious scallops,” Brawn said. “And if you're able to buy them from a diver or a reputable dealer, then you should. But unfortunately the majority of scallops labeled ‘diver’ were not harvested by divers.”

    The good news? “It doesn't matter whether a scallop was harvested by a diver or a dragger,” she said. “Diver scallops don't taste any different than dragger scallops.

    “If you're in Maine you should just ask for Maine scallops.”

    And scallops freeze well. Buy fresh Maine scallops and freeze them immediately. Oh! And according to the “world's healthiest foods” website, not only are scallops delectable, they're good for us. They're a source of vitamin B12, and provide magnesium and potassium.

    Anyway, all that aside, scallops are wicked good. Sweet and succulent, with a flavor that can only be described as scallop-y. They don't taste like anything else, except maybe the salty brine from which they hail.

    Scallops are not mucilaginous, like oysters. Among the bivalve mollusks, scallops are the least objectionable, at least in my mind. There's nothing gross about them, like the belly of a clam. Not that I don't covet clams, belly and all. Clam strips don't cut it.

    A scallop, at least the part we eat, is just the adductor muscle of the bivalve. It’s how a scallop “swims” — using it to open and close its shell. It is a firm, translucent pinkish white meat — white when cooked. Which is how I like them. I'll only eat them raw when marinated in lime juice, which essentially cooks them. That's called ceviche.

    And as with most seafood fresh out of our clean cold Maine ocean, I like them without a lot of other ingredients. A scallop is divine in itself.

    Take Coquille St. Jacques, a popular menu item back in the 70s. I'm not saying scallops aren't delicious prepared with white wine, cream and cheese. What isn't? But why disguise the delicate flavor of a scallop? Chicken doesn't have much flavor. Use that instead. Chicken St. Jacques. I'll try it and get back to you. Of course a large appeal of Coquille St. Jacques, at least when I was a kid eating it at The Helm in Rockport with my great grandparents, was the scallop shell it was served in. What am I going to serve Chicken St. Jacques in? An eggshell?

    Nana and Bumpa also used to take us to Ifemy's, a small restaurant in Thomaston. I ordered fried scallops every time. Does anyone remember Ifemy's? I can't find any information about it. Loved that joint.

    Scallops wrapped in bacon are back in vogue. When they're served at cocktail parties they're one of the first things to disappear. What's not to like about a scallop wrapped in bacon? I don't think I have to waste our time dissecting that question. A salty crispy piece of bacon wrapped around a sweet, succulent scallop. Hello.

    But when I splurge on scallops, only a few times a year, except for the ones I get from my aunt's friend, I always cook them the same way: a light dusting of flour mixed with a tablespoon of cornstarch and a little salt, pan-fried in some olive oil and butter till golden brown on each side, then a squeeze of fresh lemon juice. That will deglaze in the hot pan and form a dark brown buttery sauce to dribble over the golden brown scallops.

    My favorite side dish with pan-fried scallops is pasta with pesto. Period. I usually feel guilty about not having a vegetable or salad with dinner, but really? Who's going to give me a hard time. A manhattan while cooking eases the guilt too.

    It would be easy to make a fresh garden salad though. Don't you love how menus call something that is obviously fresh and obviously from a garden a fresh garden salad? Waste of words. I hate waste. I especially hate wasting food. I have a hard time throwing leftovers away — even three or four days later — unless they stink when you open the container. If you don't believe me ask Sarah Morley.

    Oh, and Bay scallops? Don't waste your money.

    See ya next week.

    I’m not a chef. I lay no claim to being an authority on food or cooking. I’m a good cook, and a lover of good food. And I know how to spell and put a sentence together. This column is simply meant to be fun, and hopefully inspiring. So to anyone reading this whose hackles are raised because you know more about the subject of food than I, relax. I believe you. And please send comments to: suzithayer@boothbayregister.com