"Nearly a decade ago, I drove northeast out of the Davis Mountains of west Texas into the barren plain of the Permian Basin on the advice of a gourmand I trust. His directions: detour 25 miles off of IH-10 to a tiny town called Imperial and ask for a lean, weathered marine biologist named Bart. There, in the most landlocked place imaginable, Bart the biologist would provide me the most delicious shrimp I had ever eaten, grown in his backyard."
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