I tasted Caldo de Camarón the first time I ever visited Mexico, and I’ve never forgotten it. The year was 2013, and we’d landed in the hectic heat of Cancun; sweaty, tired and ravenous. We caught a bus down to Playa Del Carmen, where our friend Becky was waiting for us like some kind of angel with cold beers, homemade enchiladas; and a lifetime of enthusiasm for her country and its food. After hours of catching up and laughing (aided no doubt by the neat tequila straight from the freezer), Becky very generously extended her amazing hospitality and let us stay in her studio apartment while she and her dog Rush (RIP) crashed upstairs with her brother. She would act as a guiding voice for our entire visit to Mexico, and left us with strict instructions to visit a taco van around the corner the next day. We weren’t about to argue: this woman knows and loves her food.
The next day we found the van. While I’m ashamed and pretty embarrassed to admit that neither of us speak Spanish, we pointed our way through the menu and sat our backsides on the padded metal stools at the counter of the unassuming van on the edge of one of Playa’s busiest roads. As buses and cars sped past, we sat, basking in the fumes, transfixed by the couple behind the hatch who were stirring bubbling, fragrant pots and toasting tortillas. Colourful plates covered with plastic wrap were placed down in front of us, and, before the tacos started to descend onto them, two little clear plastic cups of a steaming, amber-coloured broth were handed to us. We hadn’t ordered them, but it seemed this was a little signal of Mexican hospitality to start the meal. The chef also nodded and handed out a little bowl containing lime wedges, chopped raw white onion, diced avocado and coriander, and, noticing our confusion, a kindly customer next to us explained that we were to use these as toppings for the broth. “It’s spicy. And very good for the man’s, how do you say, sex drive!” he grinned.
Following his instruction, I scattered in some white onion, coriander and avocado, squeezed over some lime and took a sip of the thin, hot broth. What followed was an explosion of flavour: one of the most delicious, invigorating appetisers I’ve ever tasted. There was the distinctive nutty funk of crustacean shells at it base, melding and balancing with smoky Mexican chillies, sweet tomato and carrot. It was bisque – but not like I’d ever known it before – lifted with lime and fierce with chilli heat. To be honest it was far more memorable than the tacos that followed, even though they were delicious, and I’ve been living with the memory of it ever since, determined to try and recreate it.
Last year, we were lucky enough to visit Mexico again, and of course one of the things I ordered repeatedly was the soup. What we noticed, as we traveled from Mexico City to the Oaxacan Coast, was that – unsurprisingly given the regionality of the cuisine – it varied slightly everywhere we went; sometimes being served as a proper course, complete with juicy prawns; sometimes bulked out with potatoes, and other times just as we’d had it in Playa – as a thin broth with nothing but sweet onion and avo to chew. I managed to scribble down a few notes on my phone from asking a few chefs about making Caldo De Camaron, which allowed me to get my mitts on the correct dried chillies to bring back. It’s with these notes, and dried chillies (guajillo and chipotle), that I set about making the soup, adapted from this recipe from a Mexican food blog.
If you can’t get hold of dried guajillo chilli or chipotle chillies then the next best thing is chipotle paste, which is widely available at supermarkets. If you want to go the whole hog and get hold of the chillies, you can find them, along with loads of other authentic Mexican ingredients here at Mex Grocer. The most crucial thing, aside from the chillies, is making a good shellfish stock as a base. I happened to have a load of prawn shells (because my mum is obsessed with those shell-on prawns), a crab shell and some cod skin and that all went into my stock, so it’s a good idea to ask your fish monger for some fish skin and even some bones and any crustacean shells they might be able to let you have.
Caldo de Camarón
- Start by making your broth. If you are starting with raw, shell-on prawns as opposed to simply shells, poach them briefly in a large pan filled with a litre of salted boiling water, until they’ve changed colour and cooked through. Remove with a slotted spoon, keeping the poaching liquor for the stock. Allow them to cool, then peel them, reserving the shells. Put the prawn meat in the fridge. Heat the oven to 180 fan. Once cool and dry, toss them into a roasting tray along with the crab shell (if using). If you’re starting with just prawn shells, put them into the roasting tray at this point. Coat the shells with a tsp or two of neutral oil, to help get them going.
2. Roast the shells for 20-25 minutes, until smelling good and nutty. In the meantime, put your dried chillies in a jug and pour 300ml boiling water over them. Take your onion, cloves of garlic and tomatoes and put them in a skillet over a high heat, charring them all over for about 6-8 minutes, until they are tender in the middle and blackened in places. Use tongs to move them about.
3. Put the garlic in a food processor with the onion, tomatoes, chillies and their soaking water. Blitz to a paste.
4. Once the shells have roasted, either tip them into the liquor you have left from poaching the prawns, or put them into a pot and cover with a litre of cold water. Either way, add a bay leaf, onion and fish skin (if using). Bring to the boil, skimming off any scum, and then turn down the heat and simmer for 20 minutes, until the broth is infused with the flavour of the roasted shells. Strain.
5. Now, to make the soup, heat two tablespoons of oil in a heavy bottomed saucepan over a medium high heat. Toss in the bay leaf, and fry the carrot for a few minutes, then add in the potatoes, and fry, stirring, for 5 minutes. Now pour over the salsa and cook, stirring, for a good ten minutes, until the tomatoes are breaking down into the oil. Now pour over the strained shellfish stock and bring back to a simmer. Cook for a good 15 minutes, until the potatoes are tender. Add in the fish sauce and taste for seasoning, adjusting both until you’re happy – it should be a beautiful balance of sharp, salty, sweet and spicy. Add in the peeled prawns just to warm through. Divide between bowls or cups and serve with the toppings for adding in. Drink margaritas to go with.