| The Fish Market of Panama City |
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| Written by Matt Landau | |
| Sunday, September 30 2007 | |
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Don't wear sandals when you go to the fish market in Panama City. That's a
lesson I learned the hard way as upon leaving the establishment, my toes encased
in fish scales and seafood entrails. The sort of thing that you usually
associate with smelly and suntanned boatmen named things like Skippy or Ron Jon.
There's very little refrigeration in the place, void of buckets of chipped ice and deep plastic containers with murky fish water. Flies are everywhere. Pools of defrosted shrimp juice and leaking squid ink dot the floors. It's gross and smelly in a convivial kind of way. The fish market in Panama City just off Balboa is made up of a small stalls, each of whom seem to specialize in something. Black conch, spiny lobsters, razor clams, etcetera. All the shops have their own name, my favorite being one called El Nazarino which has a small cartoon picture of black Jesus Christ holding a long bass. The vendors are extremely friendly and informative. "This dorado my friend" one of them said. "He very nice. We catch him near Contadora. He have the clear eyes and he once have the fins. But he no have them no more. He lost them." What the guy was talking about with the fins I really don't know, but his dorado did seem to be very fresh. Almost as if to impress me, he held the fish-which was about the size of a skateboard-up for me to examine. Not knowing exactly how to approve such an offer, I patted the fish on the side. "Yep" I said. "He's good." Behind one stall I saw a man filleting sharks. With one quick slash-like movement, he dismembered the fish and tossed the meat onto a pile; a shark flesh graveyard of sorts. Beside him, was a young boy selling shark jaws-the kind of thing you'd see cheesily displayed at your local seafood haunt next to a photo of the owner holding a catch that resembles a small sedan. Outside the market, there are a row of shops which sell fish at a discounted rate. Now call me zany, but the concept of discount fish seems about as good as ten cigarettes. Out in the hot sun sit mounds of pargos and snappers and tunas, just waiting to grace a dinner table near you. Just behind this row of discount fish shops, you can find a large school of pelicans who eat the guts and bones tossed away by the fishermen. This team of pelicans is ruthless; don't go near them to pose for a photo. The clam selection is magnificent. Big clams, little clams, dark clams, light clams, clams that come in their own little houses. Clams that are sweet. Clams that are bitter. Even clams with small growing off them. Check the place out. It's really quite endearing. Closed-toed shoes are a requisite and anyone who's squeamish about things like guts and brains spilling out onto the floor might want to take Dramamine or something. I highly recommend a visit though. One of the more unique or traditional places on Balboa remaining. |
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