For four of the six winters I've weathered in Maine, the local shrimp fishery has been locked up tight. I was introduced to the lovely pink ladies by a true fan late in the 2013 season. He seared them on a piping hot plancha for only seconds a side, and we stood around his stove eating them straight off the grill. Since that cold February night, I've been unable to score even a pound of the coveted cold water crevettes. The only ones available these days are hauled in for research purposes. Once the scientists have counted them, they are released for sale, but only the lucky few cooks standing at the fish counter at the very second they land in the shop seem able to get their hands on those ...