||[Oct. 22nd, 2003|05:20 pm]
(disclaimer: This is written years after the fact. Any resemblance to what actually happened will be pure luck)|
By popular demand (ok it was a multitude of one, and I brought up the topic before that person said she'd like to read about it), um, anyway, due to overwhelming demand we turn back the pages of my personal history. Back to when I was a college student living off campus with an apartment befitting a starving college student (the kitchen cooking options were a microwave and a portable, two burner, electric stove placed on the counter).
In those days, fast food was my staple 6 day a week meal plan. On the seventh day, he cookth. I missed hand cooked meals, and knew I needed more nutritional things than fast food offered.
So one of those times I saw frozen, raw, shrimp in the local supermarket. I like breaded shrimp from restaurants, so how hard could it be to prepare the raw stuff? I would soon find out.
So I unpack the shrimp and notice these look nothing like the cooked, breaded shrimp I'm used to seeing. Shells and legs aren't things I'm used to finding on my shrimp. With those legs, the things don't look that appetizing. Well, I bought them I can handle it. Ok, get the shell off, and, hey, the legs went with the shell. Cool! Hmm, now there's this line down the middle of the thing. Ok, let's cut that out.
As I'm cutting I'm thinking. Ok, is this a blood vain, or a colon? And is that stuff in there dried blood, or the ... er, ... stuff found in a colon (ok, maybe my youthful self had a more vulgar term for it)? Hmm, maybe cooking shrimp wasn't such a good idea. Well, I have the damn stuff here, I might as well fry them in my pan now with a little butter. I should have bought some breading, oh well, no biggie.
Say, how long do you fry shrimp? Hmm, they still don't look that appetizing. I'll try one they should be cooked by now. That tastes nothing like what I know as shrimp. Um, I think I'll skip supper today and just pitch the rest of this.