I'd written about prawns before. But when it comes to prawns, shrimps or lobsters, my appetite has always overtaken my passion for writing with remarkable aplomb! Put another way, I eat more than I write. Well, something like that.

I know many people who do not share my passion for crustaceans. They often wonder (sometimes, aloud, and it's so tempting to rant but I hold my tongue instead and sink my sinning teeth into all that delicate sweetness) how I manage never to tire of prawns. 'How do you manage,' they ask. 'Oh, I do, I do manage swimmingly well,' I tell them. And they roll their eyes – brandishing a fine sample of that disappointingly mild-flavored (to their slapdash tongues, of couse!) much hyped crustacean at the end of their determined forks. Such folks they are! They have made their point. Or so they think. Not terribly well, in my opinion, but still. To each (wo)man her/his own!

Prawns make me feel good. Terribly, soothingly good! They help me let go of grudges – big ones and small ones. I become way too generous, way too forgiving after polishing off platefulls. Yes, sometimes, I suppose, I eat like a Viking. And, no, I don't believe sharing is caring. Not at least when it comes to prawns. If I have to share my plate of prawns, I turn cranky. Mercifully, not violent – the small graces of life, you see…To be or not to be selfish about your shellfish is your personal matter. But as far as I'm concerned, my mind's been made a long long time ago!

When I shall have my own restaurant, I shall call it Prawndom. Not a helluva name I know, but still. It will be a chalet by the sea – a sea where the water's green and blue and the sand, a blinding white, like a rippling river of pale fire underfoot. The menu's going to be an all crustacean fare – and I shall be fair – crabs, oysters and mussels lovers, do feel free to hop in, mates: Prawndom's in for some diversity, too!

I made some Prawn Cutlets just the other day. Doubled the crunch with a handful of crushed cornflakes thrown into the breadcrumbs.

I don't like cooking by the book. It's much more fun to go with the flow than to look up ounces and grams and mililitres. And, in the kitchen we must always, always be brave. Brave enough to improvise. Brave enough to fail. Brave enough to start again. In the kitchen, we must aspire to be something like the Phoenix – rising from its own ashes (I don't exactly look forward to the ashes, though!). Well, something like that. You got the drift; my job's done.

I won't tell you how many cutlets I've polished off the other day. Two (or three, even) is just a polite number – soothing to the senses. I don't mean to startle my readers, let alone overwhelm them with shocking numbers. Nope, that's not me. Some beans are never to be spilled. So let me hold on to my stock of unspilled beans. Stay blessed. Happiness, for all you know, is overrated. 

Who knows, someday our paths might cross again in a chalet by a windy, windy sea… 

See you in Prawndom – may be, on a day just like today. Aloha!

Please follow and like us: