Hey, Comet Readers. Did you know we have a Mexican restaurant here in the Valley that specializes in seafood boil? You didn’t? Well, let Artichoke and Truffle Butter introduce you to Doña Marina, on scenic Valley Mall Parkway in East Wenatchee.
As you no doubt recall from your “Cuisines of North America” masterclass (if only), seafood boils originated as part of Louisiana’s Cajun gastronomic tradition, combining Native American, French-Canadian, and African culinary influences. Cajuns would serve seafood boils at big celebrations, using local farmed or gathered ingredients like shrimp, crab, potatoes, corn, and local spices to create a kick-ass, filling, and flavorful meal for large groups. Like a sexy gator, seafood boils crawled their way north up the East Coast, incorporating local ingredients like lobster. Oh no, cultural diversity spread like a virus! Here at Doña Marina, Dungeness crab is a main component. Get in my belly, crustacean.
When your heroes Artichoke and Truffle Butter (A+TB) first found out about Doña Marina from A’s cool-as-fuck coworkers, we were not only stoked to hear of a local seafood boil restaurant, but also intrigued (and, admittedly, somewhat confused) by the idea of a Mexican version. Being that we’re D.T.E. (down to eat), we had to check it out. Because seafood boils were designed to be a celebration with community, A+TB scrounged up every last friend we could find (which turned out to be just a few unfortunate assholes) to join us at Doña Marina.
Pro Tip 1: Bring your friends.
Sharing a parking lot with a nail salon, Doña Marina is nestled in the nearly picked-clean bones of the old Mai Lee Thai location, featuring some hella stark black and white contrasting décor reminiscent of a sexy 1980s noir video (if only the floor tiles were black and white like that hospital in “Terminator 2”… gotta rewatch that). Some cheesy beach-side ambiance adds color, including cute inflatable lobsters that seem to have been captured by a decorative string net. Of course, you don’t catch lobster in a net, and there’s no lobster on this coast… or on this menu; but we digress. Fun crabby paper tablecloths—feel free to doodle! The intense smell of undiluted Limpia transports us south. Old-school Mexican crooners serenade us in the main dining room, competing with the ranchero playing loudly from the kitchen: live with the dissonance, friends.
With your table comes an entrada of chips and cabbage slaw: fresh, good n’ peppery. You can low-key switch in guac and bean dip for your table appy, which is also kickin’. Doña Marina sports a fairly well-stocked bar, and the marg is of the “enormous” variety. Limited sugar headache and TB can (just barely) taste the booze so… B+. Two really tasty mezcal drinks, “El Humo” and the “Mezcal Figuarosa,” are currently flexing on the rotating cocktail list, and there’s a good-looking Paloma on the permanent version.
The food menu at Doña Marina has surprising depth. In addition to a series of standard dishes (enchiladas, tacos, and quesabirria), this place throws down an array of Mexican seafood fare including several preparations of shrimp and ceviche. Many of these options can be ordered family-style, in large quantities—harkening back to a seafood boil meal’s communal roots. Some are served not just WITH, but ON a six-pack of beer.
Just to prep for consuming mass amounts of seafood, our group of savages ordered several mains and shared them all, as a family-style mega appetizer. A highlight was the “Camarones Apretalados,” a sizzling pile of fajita veg with bacon-wrapped jumbo shrimp and melted cheese on top. Uhmahgawd. But of course, the main headliner of our meal, and why you spent your last Dogecoin on this magazine was—duh—the SEAFOOD BOILLLLLL!
Doña Marina’s seafood boil comes serving 1, 2, or 4 people; and you can choose from 3 flavors: butter and garlic, lemon pepper garlic, and “Feast Loco Mix Louisiana Style.” The latter two can be ordered mild, hot, or Mexican hot. A+TB think that the “Feast Solo” (seafood boil for 1) was sizable enough to feed two people after appetizers, if leftovers aren’t a goal. And let’s be honest, day-old bivalves are a “C” in the fuck/chuck/marry triumvirate, amiright?
Pro Tip 2: If you’re ordering the seafood boil, prepare to squirt your friends! Shit gonna get messy.
The “Feast Solo” consists of a half-pound of Dungeness crab plus shrimp, crawfish, mussels, clams, sausage, potatoes, corn on the cob, and a hard-boiled egg on the side (for protein) for $45. All of these beasts come swimming in a giant silver bowl of spicy butter sauce: your own personal marine ecosystem waiting to disappear into your gaping maw, you exogorth (look it up). You also get a fun little basket of tools you can use to shell these creatures, and personal protective equipment such as a disposable plastic crabby bib and rubber gloves if you don’t appreciate spicy cuticles. These are not for show, friends—you are about to get nasty.
Wear clothes that you don’t mind throwing out after dinner, because seafood boil is not easy to eat tidily. Artichoke spilled a 2-ounce cup of spicy hot butter all over every article of clothing she was wearing, and those were her favorite pants, dammit. She also caught TB’s crab juice to the eye, yar matey!
Eating seafood boil is super fun, but maybe not something you do on a first date. Figuring out what all these tiny tools are for was amusing (like playing dress-up as a dental surgeon), and listening to “crab-eating pros” argue about how to best de-shell Dungeness was hilarious. Fights broke out between buds wielding tiny lobster forks trying to spear bits of boil. Luckily it’s hard to murder your friends with a very tiny pokey fork.
Pro Tip 3: Use the scissors.
The shellfish was all tasty, and we appreciated the variety served in The Feast. The eggs were an unexpected fan favorite—dip dat shit. Much of the meal, really, was an S.D.U. (Sauce Delivery Unit). And the sauce… the Louisiana-style flavor was fantastic! Normally, we love trying everything once before settling on a favorite to re-order, but we’d totally stick with this house favorite next time.
What is this? Is it a shrimp? Is it a tiny lobster? No. It’s a crawfish. Artichoke declares that it tastes “like swamp,” until her Bib Buddy shows her how to mac on the tail. Speaking of Bib Buddy, hopefully you brought a friend who is going to order something that can be eaten using actual utensils. If your entire table is ordering seafood boil, make sure your bib is on tight and you’re up to date on your texts, because once you start eating, you’ll be so covered in shellfish body parts and juice that you can NOT touch anything until you’ve hosed yourself off in the bathroom. TB found himself needing a napkin in his lap but his hands were covered in crabs… thank fuck for that Bib Buddy!
Eventually we got down to the surprises at the bottom of the bowl, fishing out the last few pieces remaining, with the mantra “sausage or clams; sausage or clams!” A lovely DEI moment. When we’d sieved all the seafood out of our rapidly cooling spicy butter vat, we took a look at the utter destruction on the table, feeling very “I’m a monster, don’t look at me.” The carnage was reminiscent of “Alien vs. Predator” (vs. “My Chemical Romance” vs. me). To clean up, A had to double scrub like she was going in for surgery… or coming out of it.
Finished? Go home and take a shower, you disturbing predator. You look like Vecna from “Stranger Things” (or DND, nerd). Prepare to feel forever unclean, but well-fed and ready to return (at some point) to the loving, spicy, buttery arms of Doña Marina.
