Glenn Koenig / Los Angeles Times
Pescado zarandeado is one of the wonders of the seafood world, a broad, thin fish sliced neatly in half on the vertical axis, roasted slowly over a smoky fire and served on a platter the size of a skimboard — half an acre of smoking, char-edged flesh.
The fish, usually a Pacific robalo, or snook, is dabbed with some mixture of citrus, spices and mayonnaise before it hits the fire, although it is usually all but greaseless when it hits the table. You tear off pieces and wrap them in fresh tortillas with a strand or two of well-caramelized onion. You drink a michelada or two. Your afternoon stretches ahead.
The cult of pescado zarandeado in Los Angeles is generally associated with Sergio Peñuelas, a Sinaloa-born cook who has mastered the art of slow-grilling snook. If you follow the confluence of food and social media, Peñuelas may have been bubbling through your feeds for more than a decade by now. Some of my friends call him the Snook Whisperer.