Around Cinco de Mayo planning, a certain kind of stubbornness emerges. Every time, someone reaches for the ground beef. The rotisserie chicken is taken out by someone else. Additionally, the entire menu begins to seem less inspired and more like it was put together from a supermarket end-cap display somewhere between the sour cream and the shredded cheddar. It’s unfortunate because Mexican coastal cuisine, which features briny mussels, flaky fish, and fresh shrimp, is among the world’s most colorful.
To cook like you do, you don’t have to live close to the water. The majority of home cooks haven’t yet come to terms with this quiet reality. If the fish is good and the limes are cold, someone in Kansas or Ohio can now make a ceviche that would hold up in a beachside palapa thanks to flash-frozen wild-caught seafood. Cinco de Mayo is an excellent opportunity to test the hypothesis that the reputation gap between “coastal cook” and “landlocked cook” has never been smaller.
Many people should definitely start with coconut-crusted rockfish tacos. A Vietnamese-style nuoc cham dipping sauce, which is sweet, sour, and slightly spicy, goes strangely well with the fish’s golden, almost tropical crust made from panko and shredded coconut. It shouldn’t function as effectively as it does. The finished taco, which is layered with shredded purple cabbage, fresh avocado slices, and torn herbs like Thai basil and mint, has a festive vibe that is difficult for a ground beef version to achieve.
The dish that usually wins over skeptics is shrimp ceviche. People who have never had it are surprised by the citrus-cured texture, which is firm but yielding and unlike cooked shrimp. Add chopped tomatoes, jalapeño, red onion, cilantro, and a heaping helping of avocado, and the entire bowl turns into something that guests linger over at parties, chip in hand, until it vanishes. Here, shrimp quality is more important than technique. If you get three things right—wild-caught, properly thawed, and ice-cold going in—the lime will take care of the rest.
It seems like a real oversight that creamy wild Alaska pollock enchiladas are frequently neglected in favor of more ostentatious options. When poached in a tomatillo-serrano sauce, pollock retains its shape fairly well, is mild, and absorbs the flavors without blending in. People who only think of enchiladas with beef or chicken are surprised by the richness of the finished casserole, which is topped with pepper-Jack cheese and drizzled with Mexican crema. It’s the type of dish you have to explain three times when you bring it to a potluck.
More recognition should be given to salmon tostadas than they typically receive. Creamy avocado, pineapple salsa, and flaky salmon are piled on top of a crunchy tostada shell. It’s bright, boisterous, and a little chaotic in the best way. It doesn’t make sense until you taste the pineapple. Similar principles apply to mahi-mahi fish tacos, which are served in warm corn tortillas with cabbage and lime after being spiced and pan-seared until the edges crisp. Nothing complicated or requiring gear that most people don’t have.
For those who are willing to stray a little from the norm, mussels a la Mexicana are a wild card. A pot of mussels becomes festive and incredibly satisfying with the addition of beer, pico de gallo, and lime. They cook in a matter of minutes. Additionally, lobster guacamole—chopped tail meat folded into a traditional avocado blend—sounds decadent enough to feel like a special occasion, which is precisely what this day is all about.
Every year, Cinco de Mayo tends to stick to the same menu. Yes, there is solace in that. Even though the closest ocean is a long drive away, there is something worth pursuing in a table that has a coastal scent.
