IMPERIAL, Texas – Seagulls swirl and swoop in the gray winter skies above the dusty Permian Basin. The big white birds are as improbable as the prey that lures them: desert-grown shrimp.

Never mind that this patch of wind-blown West Texas is better known for oil fields than seafood farms. All that drilling occasionally released underground saltwater, remnants of the Permian Sea that covered the area eons ago.

In 1992, a wildcatter's bust turned out to be a marine biologist's gusher. Dallas-raised Bart Reid and his wife, Patsy, punched holes in the ground looking for seawater, not oil. When they struck saline gold, the Reids pumped it into 16 four-acre manmade ponds and began farming shrimp on the edge of the Chihuahuan Desert.

Now, these homegrown crustaceans are putting the tiny Pecos County town of Imperial on the culinary map. Sporting an organic pedigree, they're on restaurant menus across West Texas and will debut at a ritzy Dallas steakhouse early next year.

They're "the very cleanest and sweetest tasting I've ever used," says executive chef Peter O'Brien of the tony Lajitas Resort.

For Mr. Reid, West Texas shrimp farming is a dream come true – and a calling.

As a marine biologist, he says, "Growing fish is the best way to produce top-quality food and take some of the heat off the oceans." As a convert to the beauty-and-the-beast nature of West Texas, he believes shrimp farming makes the otherwise useless underground saltwater "a perfect resource, and it would feel like a sin not to use it."

At a time when many seafood lovers worry about the safety of their food, Mr. Reid feels there's a niche market for his organically grown critters. As much as 90 percent of the shrimp that Americans eat is imported from Asia and South America. Although less expensive, imported shrimp can't compete with his for flavor or purity, Mr. Reid says.

His wholesale price is $5.55 per pound; Carrollton-based Landlock Seafood Company pays $4.75 to $5 per pound for shrimp from Asia.

Permian Sea Shrimp Co. is the only organic shrimp producer listed by the national Organic Trade Association. Because there is no industry regulatory body, says Allen Spelce of the Texas Department of Agriculture, it is difficult to verify Mr. Reid's claim as the country's only organic producer. "But we know of no others," Mr. Spelce says.

Starting with the underground saltwater, everything is inspected to meet organic standards by an accredited organic certifier, Quality Certification Services.

Because the water comes from an underground sea, "there are no oil blobs or trash washing up on our beaches," the Reids say on their Web site.

Flax and soybeans for their specially formulated shrimp chow come from organic farmers. And Permian shrimp are "chill killed" – they go straight from pond to containers of slush ice, then to refrigerated trucks that deliver them to the processor within 48 hours of harvest.

Immediate transfer of the shrimp into an ice-water mixture preserves them instantly, and more efficiently than placing them on ice only, Mr. Reid says. They're never exposed to temperatures that can degrade quality.

Besides the organic market, Mr. Reid says, chefs are discovering his product, which they prize for its sweet taste, "like lobster."

Chefs who offer the West Texas crustaceans find that putting the brand name on a menu generates conversation – and almost always an order.

"Their first reaction is shock that shrimp are raised here," says Joab Rey, manager of Jett's Grill at the famed Hotel Paisano in Marfa. When diners try them, they're more surprised to taste how good they are, he adds.

" I keep telling them [potential buyers] that all you have to do is put 'Permian Sea Shrimp' on the menu, and they'll sell," says Mr. Reid, who first farmed shrimp in Florida.

He wanted to return to his home state and got involved with state-sponsored experimental shrimp farming in West Texas. The experiment worked, and he soon got into the business. "I'd always wanted my own farm," he said.

"When I married a marine biologist, I thought I'd spend my life as a beach bunny," Mrs. Reid says.

Instead of lolling in the sun, she manages the Permian Sea Shrimp Store – part retail outlet, part restaurant – keeps the books and delivers shrimp all the way down to Lajitas Resort on the border.

Dallas' Pappas Bros. Steakhouse will offer the shrimp after the first of the year, says general manager Judd Fruia. Chef Tom Fleming, who just left Pappas Bros. for the new Gaylord Texan Resort & Convention center in Grapevine, describes them as having "great flavor."

Mr. O'Brien of Lajitas Resort, who serves the shrimp at the fine-dining Ocotillo restaurant there, raves that "the folks who farm raise and deliver them to my back door are the friendliest, rockingest folks around – in a West Texas-stylin' way."

One of Mr. Reid's largest distributors is El Paso-based Ricky Enterprises Co., which supplies regional markets and restaurants. It moves 30,000 to 40,000 pounds of the annual 200,000-pound shrimp crop.

Mr. Reid calls his production medium-size by national standards. But, should demand, he has plenty of expansion room, with 600 acres available for shrimp farming.

His other main outlet is the small Permian Sea Shrimp Store in Imperial, population 428, which has become a regional dining destination. Many regulars motor 85 miles from Midland.

On a recent Friday, burly oil field workers, a mom with a passel of hungry children, as well as weather-worn farm and ranch hands stopped for lunch. Most ordered the special, batter-fried Permian Sea Shrimp.

At 10:30 a.m., the fry cook was already battering and frying shrimp, preparing for the lunch rush. As early as 11 a.m., diners began to trickle in. By noon, most seats were filled, with many customers ordering a full pound of fried shrimp for $10.99. At 2 p.m., the cook was still frying nonstop.

Success at the store has the couple considering a restaurant in Midland.

"He only has two employees during the growing season," Mrs. Reid says. "I have four here at the store year-round."

Mr. Reid says that without the store, he wouldn't still be in business.

Others have tried shrimp farming in the area – the Texas Department of Agriculture lists two smaller operations near Imperial. But several have failed, Mr. Reid says, either because they didn't realize the work required and gave up, or because they thought of it as a get-rich-quick scheme.

In an area where water, not oil, is recognized as the most precious underground resource, the Reids' eco-friendly operation pumps "useless" saltwater and recycles much of it.

"We're about as environmentally sound as any operation anywhere," Mr. Reid says.

So sound that he devotes a pond to growing endangered Pecos pupfish for the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department.

"We've built a water-based ecosystem in the desert," he says, noting that besides seagulls, other shore birds nest here, especially in the spring. "We've even seen pelicans."

E-mail dgriffith@dallasnews.com