Mariscos España and Comercial Mexicana: Adventures in Rosarito, Parte Dos

As usual, my recent visit to Rosarito was all about eating and shopping. I always stop at The Convent on Juarez Blvd. to pick pieces of Talavera, the vibrantly painted pottery I collect. Since my counter-surfing Rhodesian Ridgeback puppy, Ketzel, had managed to smash a treasured fruit plate this summer and I wanted to replace it, The Convent was at the top of my list. But, we also had other stops. My friend Tamara had some tchotchkes she was looking for, and I love to see what my friend Armando has in his art gallery at the Rosarito Hotel.

But, this trip, we added a new stop. My friend Paula wanted to show us Rosarito’s hot new (okay, two years old) market Comercial Mexicana. At more than three times the size of Rosarito's other Comercial Mexicana, which sits at the back of the La Quinta Plaza Shopping Center, the newer version is quite the hit among locals. Yes, it is Mexico’s version of Ralph’s or Albertsons or Vons. Sort of. Or maybe it’s like a Super Wal-Mart. After all, it is enormous, filled not just with groceries, but clothing, appliances, housewares, toys and more. The bottom line? It’s just the type of place that were it in San Diego, I’d probably be encouraging people to snub in favor of farmers markets and mom and pop stores. But, it’s in Mexico and I was a visitor and I was intrigued.

It was no surprise that from the moment I set foot in Comercial Mexicana, it reminded me of Northgate Gonzalez Market and Foodland. Walk into both of these, as with Comercial Mexicana, and the first section that catches the eye, not to mention the nose, is the bakery.

The long loaves of pan and the football-shaped bolillos must have been just pulled out of the oven because their sweet, yeasty scent was in the air, pulling me over like a lasso. They were still warm with a crisp crust. What sandwiches they’d make. I turned and saw beautiful concha blancas with their powdery topping.

Paula and Tamara called me to them where they were hovering over a table piled high with sugar skulls for Día de los Muertos, or Day of the Dead, at the end of this month.

Individually wrapped in plastic, the sugar skulls are about three inches and cute as can be—for skulls. Their eyes are like sequins in green and blue and red. They have a horizontal patch of color—gold foil or blue, predominantly—which is covered by white icing swirls. According to Paula, you can get your name iced on them also.

As I walked off toward the refrigerated section, I passed by some of the prettiest cakes I’ve ever seen, including several with a whipped cream icing topped by glazed fruit.

It was late afternoon and time was short (I had to get back across the border and home to above-mentioned knucklehead puppy and her older sister), so I couldn’t linger. Instead I rushed past a large liquor section to where Tamara was eying bags of frozen maiz (corn) for pozole, a Mexican soup made with these traditional large white kernels of corn called maiz blanco or cacahuazintle.

The corn is slaked, or soaked, in a solution of cal (lime) to soften it in preparation for making the soup. The prepared corn is called Nixtamal or Nixtamalado and is then ready to go into the soup. Gourmetsleuth.com explains the process and offers a basic pozole recipe.

The rest of the frozen food section looks very much like what you’d find in an American store, with only some products, like packages of frozen sopes dough, placing us firmly in Mexico.

Along the back of the store is where the food treasures really are. The fish counter is gorgeous, with rows of fresh rock cod, like what we saw at Elvira’s place at lunch, plus tuna, halibut, snapper and others you’d expect.

We were struck by the plump pink pulpos (octopus), nestled between piles of shrimp. Then we turned around to find the cheese counter, with its extraordinary bee-hive shaped panelas, the queso fresco and Oaxaca cheeses. The meat counter would be the envy of an American butcher, with its large cuts of beef and pork, and fresh-looking poultry.

Paula led me past visions of tripe my friend Angela’s mom would love to use to make her menudo to a table with row of trays filled with earthy brown and green concentrated moles, so thick and rich they look like pudding instead of sauces.

Now most people associate mole solely with the traditional mole poblano, which is prepared with dried chile peppers, ground nuts or seeds and Mexican chocolate. But mole is the generic name for a variety of sauces found in Mexican cuisine (think guacamole…). Mole verde is made with tomatillos. Mole pepián is made with pumpkin seeds (and, just to be confusing, its color also lends it to being called mole verde). Dark brown mole adobo is infused with cumin and oranges. (Paula and Armando use it as a marinade for turkey.) Mole cacahuate has a peanut base.

Now, are these concentrates, or the Doña Chonita packaged moles I picked up on Aisle 6 (pepián, adobo, green mole and “mole”), cheating?

Well, sure if you’re a purist. But if you’ve ever made a traditional mole or seen a recipe for one, you know that it can take hours to make and requires not just a wealth of ingredients, but several processes. If you want to have some fun, check out Bob Nemo’s “The Mole Page” and its recipes. You’ll see what I mean. This is definitely something worth making from scratch when you have the time. But, if you don’t, these prepared moles, including the seductive concentrates at Comercial Mexicana (dilute with chicken consommé), will do in a pinch and are great if you’re having company. Place pieces of chicken or turkey or pork in a heavy pan heated with oil, brown on both sides, lower the heat and add the mole. Cover and simmer until the meat is cooked through. Serve with rice and tortillas.

Right by the moles was a table spread with fruta cubierta, or crystallized fruit. Sitting in a basket at the back was the most fascinating—lime skins stuffed with coconut.

But, there were also white yams, pineapple, green watermelon, regular yams, pears and figs. You’ll find these everywhere in Mexican markets, ready to slice and eat for dessert.

Comercial Mexicana, of course, has an in-house tortilleria. Unfortunately, at this store, it’s alongside the produce department, which has displays so beautiful that my focus zeroed in on them and I just breezed by the tortillas. The peppers, for instance, were simply stunning.

They also had fresh herbs like chamomile along with squashes, tomatoes, tomatillos and the usual fare.

I came this close to filling a bag with blue corn kernels before realizing I couldn’t cross the border with them.

What I did leave with were the containers of prepared moles, as well as some cans of Herdez “chilpotle” and “5 chiles” salsas that Paula swears by.

Use them as “toppers” on eggs, sandwiches, guacamole or, of course, as dips or on fish or chicken. So far, I’ve tried the chilpotle and it’s delicious—very thick and spicy. The small cans are perfect for one or two people and should be a pantry staple.

Comercial Mexicana is located in the north central part of downtown Rosarito, right at the second Rosarito exit from the toll road.

Have some thoughts about Comercial Mexicana or other markets in Baja? Do you have a favorite neighborhood market or shop that carries unique or unusual foodstuff? Let me know or add to the conversation by clicking on comments below:

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Mariscos España and Comercial Mexicana: Adventures in Rosarito, Parte Una

When it comes to great places to eat, experience has told me that if you hit on someplace fabulous in New York or L.A. you keep it to yourself or else you’ll never be able to get in again but that in San Diego you have to tell everyone you know so that it will stay in business. I’m of two minds when it comes to Mariscos España in little Puerto Popotla, just four miles south of Rosarito. After all, I hate to ruin it for my friends Paula and Armando, who live in Rosarito and are frequent patrons. Paula, herself, was apprehensive about my writing about it here. However, when the owner, Elvira España, hands you a four-color business card as you leave, then obviously she’s looking for crowds. And, why shouldn’t she enjoy more business? What she does exemplifies the essence of how treating fresh ingredients simply and with respect brings out their true flavors.

Now Mariscos España is not a market—we’ll get to that a bit later. It’s one of about 25 restaurants (and I use that term loosely) sitting on a very ragged road in the Popotla fishing village. Immediately south of the Fox Baja Studios/Foxploration, Popotla is a wonderful alternative to Puerto Nuevo and its now clichéd lobsters.

We’re talking fairly primitive facilities here, but if you want an authentic Baja experience, you’ll enjoy a splendid and inexpensive meal made from the catch of the day, if not the hour, along with tortillas, chips, salsas, rice and beans. And if the ambiance of plastic tables and chairs doesn’t move you, consider that they’re overlooking a gorgeous view of either the ocean or the fishing cove, and in the case of Mariscos España, both.

My friends Paula and Tamara and I enjoyed a huge and extraordinary meal there last week. Paula called Elvira in advance to let her know we’d be coming so she could prepare Paula’s favorite menu, which was to include fresh fried crabs. We were lucky. The day was warm and sunny, the ocean sparkling. We lugged in a cooler filled with cervezas, faux cervezas and sparkling water (yep, bring your own drinks and glasses) and sat down at our table overlooking both the cove and the ocean as fishing boats pulled in from the ocean and were doggedly lugged up the beach by tired looking pick-up trucks and vans. We even had a host, our own resident and very proprietary seagull who politely stood guard on the white tile wall, keeping his kin at bay while we ate. (Yes, he got his tip at the end of the meal.)

Elvira’s daughter started us off with a basket of thick chips and two salsas, a spicy roja and a much gentler fresh salsa cruda. Then she brought out three plates of plump shrimp quesadillas. The shrimp is gently sautéed with both salsas added at the finish, then they’re added to a flour tortilla with shredded cheese and more salsa, sealed and—get ready for this—flash fried.

What was presented was a terrific seafood indulgence, crispy on the outside with soft, sweet chunks of flavorful shrimp smothered in warm cheese inside. But, wait, there’s more.

Next what looked like softballs wrapped in foil were brought to the table. We each carefully unwrapped the packaging on our plate and discovered an enormous clam that had been steamed on the grill with chopped tomatoes, jalapeños, onions, parsley and Oaxaca cheese. This was more like an amuse buche, a lovely couple of bites to tease the palate. Elvira actually created this recipe for Paula years ago because Paula couldn’t eat raw clams, and has been serving it to her and Armando ever since.

Once we finished the clams, we went to the kitchen to select the main course—our fish. Unfortunately, Elvira, told us, she couldn’t serve us crabs. None had come in yet. So, we had our choice of freshly caught pescado rojo—rock cod.

Fish were everywhere in the kitchen—resting on the counter, hanging in a scale and on ice in a cooler. Paula, draped in one of the enormous white flour-sack towels she wisely brought in anticipation of the mess we’d make with the crabs, picked our fish in the cooler. After receiving several swift slashes on top, it too, was flash fried. Elvira is big on frying. Paula calls it "the Puerto Nuevo syndrome, what Rosarito is famous for." Fortunately, Elvira's technique is so good that you get crunch, not grease. The food is actually very light. And, there's no melted butter to be seen. So, we wonder after indulging in a full meal of flash-fried food, how bad could it be?

Served with hot flour tortillas, a small bowl of limes cut in half and more salsa, along with bowls of seasoned rice and beans, we had our feast. I rarely eat fried food, but this is the opportunity you wait for. The flesh was sweet and tender, the skin wonderfully crispy. We could have finished it off without a problem.

Except, that after about 10 minutes we got a surprise. As we were each digging into the fish, pulling it apart where Elvira had made her cuts, tucking steaming white chunks of cod into the warm tortillas along with the salsas and giving it a quick squeeze of fresh lime juice, Elvira came out bearing a platter filled with—crabs, one for each of us. We were tickled and she was so pleased; they had just come in and she quickly put them in hot oil. (Remember, keep it simple.)

Out came three worn wood cutting boards accompanied by gray beach rocks the size of a fist. In Baltimore, they may use a mallet, but in Rosarito, it’s beach rocks that do the job. The fish was pushed aside as we smashed the crabs with the stones and pulled apart the legs. They were fiercely hot, but once in the mouth, moist and naturally salty from the sea. Not a drop of oil to be seen; in fact, I had thought they were boiled. They were purely fun and satisfying finger food.

We sat outside, talking, enjoying our meal and the activity in the cove for a couple of hours. There just couldn’t have been a better or more decadent way to enjoy the surroundings. And, with tip, it cost us each $19.

Then it was off to go shopping, including a visit to Rosarito’s Comercial Mexicana—one of Mexico’s major supermarket chains. I know, the irony of it all. But wait till you hear about it.

Mariscos España is located in Puerto Popotla, KM 33.

Have some thoughts about Mariscos España or other seafood restaurants in Baja? Do you have a favorite neighborhood market or shop that carries unique or unusual foodstuff? Let me know or add to the conversation by clicking on comments below:

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