I just read something that made me think about what's happening at our tables. The chocolate clams we eat today are not even a shadow of what they used to be a few years ago. While not long ago a quality chocolate clam weighed around 300 grams, now what arrives at restaurants are specimens barely 8 centimeters long, weighing around 80 grams. It's as if we're eating babies.

I spoke with an oceanographer who has been in this field for decades and manages a major distributor for the national gastronomy industry. His analysis is clear: the species is heading toward a point of no return. The fascinating part is that climate change is not to blame. Chocolate clams are thermal survivors that adapt perfectly to both the cold waters of Guerrero Negro and the Sea of Cortez. The real problem is uncontrolled over-demand.

Just 15 years ago, no one was asking for this. People wanted Pismo clams. When the government had to ban them due to collapse, the chocolate clam filled that void. A new generation of diners got used to its sweetness and red foot, assuming it was an infinite resource. But here’s the worrying part: no one has real figures. The government’s registration system operates blindly. Everything sold locally, everything moving in Ensenada’s trucks, simply doesn’t appear in official statistics.

In January of this year, SADER decreed a two-year ban in Baja California Sur for chocolate clams. Biologically, it makes sense. But market greed finds ways to bypass borders. Now they just change the point of extraction, move paperwork from one side of the gulf to the other, and demand remains king.

What’s interesting is that the reaction came from the kitchens. A group of prominent Mexican chefs — names like Eduardo García, Elena Reygadas, Javier Plascencia, Benito Molina — signed a manifesto to voluntarily remove chocolate clams from their restaurants. It’s an ethical boycott, similar to what Spanish chefs did with eels. These chefs have an audience and a closeness to people that governments lack.

But giving up such a highly valued ingredient has a real cost. This distributor I mentioned used to consume up to 1,000 dozen clams per week. They decided to stop in February. It was a direct hit to their sales volume. They had tough internal discussions, but their ethical stance prevailed. As the oceanographer says: we want there to be clams for our grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

For contexts where there is no official ban yet and customers insist, the industry proposes a rule: require that each clam weigh at least 200 grams. With that weight, we know the clam has reproduced several times. Accepting shells of 150, 100, or those alarming 80 grams flooding the market is funding their extinction bite by bite.

Now, saving the chocolate clam doesn’t mean giving up shellfish. There are alternatives with healthy populations. Pismo clams recovered and have legal harvesting windows. There’s also the queen or butter clam, with unique textures and sweetness, and the red mule foot, with stable populations.

Mexican gastronomy is at a level that demands operating with sustainability standards. Wild shellfish need rest periods. The ultimate vision is an educated industry where the chocolate clam has 6 months of closed season and 6 months of availability, rotating with other species. Either we learn this culture of rest today, or chocolate clams will only exist in future cookbooks.