I keep being asked to write… Apparently it's something I should be doing more of..
I'll give it a try, but I've been seriously lacking inspiration lately.. writing used to come to me so easy.. and now… Forcing it back may not be a good idea, but it might be.. we shall see.
Anyhow, The Shrimp Story..
My first Shrimp.. oh the memories..
Let's start from the beginning. As many know, but others may not, I used to work in a retirement home called Windsor of Savoy. I was in the "dining services", but don't let the fancy title fool you, what it really means is that I was the resident slave waitress. We all were.
Our jobs were very simple, we were to come everyday at 4, 4:30 or 5pm, depending on our schedules and do various jobs that were presented as stations. I am not sure how it works in the real world waiting jobs, but in this particular place it just meant that we had a set number of tables that could be situated anywhere in the dining room along with a side of the kitchen we were to clean up at the end of the day. It was pretty simple, someone was in charged of drinks and making sure people were always satisfied with their beverages, others were in charge of bossing tables, and a select few of us were in charged of actually waiting on tables. (I will speak of this some other time)
My first encounter with the particular food entry that a shrimp could be, was in this place. Considering that the Windsor of Savoy was one of the high class retirement homes where rooms were small apartments and the price of living there was $3 000 and up, monthly of course, shrimps there were a delicacy the residents didn't get all the time. (Price wasn't an issue, their food choices were limited due to various health problems most people living there had). As I just moved to the United States, my idea of shrimp was what I've seen in the movies. It's a rich man delicacy and I could forget of ever getting a chance of trying it.
During one of those special nights when they did have shrimp as part of the menu, the rest of the staff and I had the chance to eat whatever was left over at the end of the night. Even hearing this as I am writing it in my head, I can't help but thinking of dogs being fed the leftovers of their master's meal. Doesn't it sound that way? It wasn't like that at all, but that's just what came to mind right now. I digress. The shrimp we had the opportunity to try that night was mixed with some vegetables and made into a sauce type of entry that was to be eaten with some white rice. We all had to try it, of course. It was delicious! The shrimp itself was nice, white and pink. They were tiny and already cleaned up. All you really had to do is put it in your mouth and enjoy the savory taste it left behind.. I was so impressed with shrimp that night; I wanted to eat them all the time. It was shrimps! I loved them!
Until the summer of 2000…
It was the best summer of my life; it was the summer right after my sophomore year in high school. I had a job. I had everything a teenager could possibly want at the time.
That particular summer, as we were visiting friends and family, I returned to Croatia for the first time after 8 years. I was excited to see everyone all over again. I simply could not wait.
Of course, everyone who has known me since I was a little child wanted to see me, talk to me, ask me questions. One particular parent wanted to call me over for dinner and it was my friend Marina's mom. She invited me that one afternoon after the beach to come eat at their place. Can you guess what was on the menu? You got it! Shrimps!
Man was I excited! I could not wait. Not only was I going to see Marina's family who I've missed very much, but I also got to eat REAL Mediterranean Shrimps. The real deal! Not one of those things that you buy frozen in stores, like what they did at the Windsor. These were fresh shrimps, bought the day after they were captured. What could be better than that I though!
Boy was I wrong…
As I entered my friend's home, I could smell the strong odor of fried food. I did not know what to expect, all I could think of is how I got to eat real Croatian food. I was excited! I sat down with Marina talking about EVERYTHING. We couldn't stop ourselves. There was so much to catch up on. What was she up to while she was in Germany? How my life was while I was in Switzerland? How America is going and if it is all it is cracked up to be? So many questions from both of us, so much excitement that I did not notice what was about to be put in front of me.
Marina's mom set down a big pan. It was covered so I did not know what was in it. I kept talking to Marina, oblivious to what is about to be unravel in front of me. Finally a hint of hunger and the sweet fragrance of good food stopped us both half sentence. We decided to eat and to continue our talk later. Marina decided to show me how it is all done so she opened the pan. There it was, that sweet sweet sea food I was longing for so much, right in front of me, staring me in the eyes. Literally!
These weren't the nice little pink shrimps I've eaten before. They were not even pink! These were some creepy looking bugs that were about to come out of that pan and attack me. I gagged silently, trying not to let either Marina or her mom see my distress. Were they kidding? I did not sign up to eat grasshoppers here. I wanted my SHRIMP! What kind of cruel joke was this? These things had tentacles coming out of their heads. They had ALL of their feet and tale. They looked very much so alive. They were trying to get out of that pan and come after me. Was I on Fear Factor without knowing it?
Marina dug in right away, like a real Dalmatian girl. Enthusiastically she proceeded to show me how exactly to 'clean' those creatures and which part to eat. I was watching her in disbelief. She wasn't kidding. She really was going to eat them! Not to offend, I had to do the same.. Cautiously I picked one with my fork, making sure that I stabbed it good, just in case it was still alive. Hey! You never know! It can turn around and bite your tongue or something. I was prudent. Still trying to keep a straight face, not show my profound disgust for what I was doing, I proceeded to clean the creature. Finally I got to the good part. I ate it, and after it all, my suffering, my distress, the damn thing, it had no taste! Let me repeat this, in case you missed it the first time. It has NO taste! Zilch! Nada! Rien! I had 2 more of these so called "shrimps" and I was full. My stomach could not take anymore… During all this time, Marina was at her 10th Shrimp, commenting on how slow I was at eating mine. I couldn't believe it, but at this point I was ready to get out of this place before Marina's mom acts like every other good Eastern European woman does and offers I take some home! I took all the comments on how little I eat and how skinny I was. I rapidly helped them clean the table and tossed the idea of going back to the beach on the table. We were out of that house so fast, Flash had nothing on me!
What have they done to this delicacy I so much desired a few months before… Needless to say, after that day, it took me a while before I could eat shrimps again..
tired
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