Sorrow invades my soul at this time of year, on this very day. For from now until October, nary a French scallop will grace my plate, or anyone else’s for that matter. Scallop season ends May 15, and we simply must look elsewhere to satisfy our seafood cravings.
Good Disguised as Bad
This is a good thing disguised as a bad one, however. The scallop, denizen of the substrate in the Atlantic Ocean and the English Channel, should be left alone now. The muscle we love is right this moment studiously, lovingly giving its energy to eggs which, when fertilized, guarantee scallops for seasons to come. It needs this time to rest and regenerate, to live in peace and quiet. Thus, my tears flow might be considered crocodile tears. Yes, I’m sad like a spoiled child yet glad like someone who knows that enough is enough.
The scallop is harvested by drag, a method that consists of a big metal claw dragged behind the fishing boat. It’s not a tender fishery and the only reason I can even fathom that it’s all right to fish like this is that the scallop population is strictly protected, the substrate too. I trust the authorities, assuming they have the good of the ecological system in mind and because I do, I enjoy the scallop when I can.
Raw is Heaven
For my last scallop taste of the year, I indulged in them raw. It is really my favorite way to eat a scallop, lightly anointed with mild extra virgin olive oil and a sprinkling of fleur de sel. Whenever I prepare scallops I set aside several aside to serve this way, then sauté or roast the others, just until they are golden on the surface and barely hot in the interior. Less is more for the scallop; succulent hardly describes their inimitable flavor and texture.
Cry, Then Celebrate Seasons
So, until the next scallop season begins, we’ll cry for a moment then live with our memories and be so very thankful there ARE seasons so that we can pine, then enjoy! Bon Appétit!