Heather called me yesterday and said “Hey, today’s Harvest Day at the prawn farm. You wanna’ go?”
I’d never been to a shrimp farm and thought that would be a fun thing to do so we piled in the car with her ferals and drove 45 minutes out to the middle of nowhere to find this place that she’d read about in the paper.
What we didn’t realize was that we weren’t actually going to the farm but to the farmer’s house to pick up the shrimp that he had already harvested and was storing in large plastic ice-filled swimming pools in his front yard.
And guarded by the pit bull running loose.
Cause nothing says sanitary like having a dog run around raw seafood sitting out in the sun.
And so we got out of the car and wandered into his yard and picked up the shrimp that we weren’t quite sure if they were dead or alive, made pleasant talk with the farmer as he poured a bucket of crustaceans on the grill and stood very still while the pit bull sniffed Squishy Baby’s toes.
And then we went back to Heather’s house and she said, “Do YOU know how to clean a prawn?” and of course I didn’t because my shrimp comes frozen in a two-pound bag from Costco but I was not to be deterred and told her, “That’s what we have Youtube for.”
Grammar snobs, please ignore my ending a sentence with a preposition.
The Youtube instructions told me to pull the head off the body but that would have required me touching the shrimp and I wasn’t sure it was dead dead and I was feeling a little squeamish about pulling off his head while the eyes were still attached so I chopped off the head with a knife.
From three feet away.
And then I realized I was going to lose way too much meat that way so I faced my fears and just ripped the head off the next one and it wasn’t so bad after that.
Heather had the willies and didn’t want to look at them anymore gave me the shrimp heads to take home and I made six quarts of shrimp stock from them.
And had fun scaring the boys by chasing them through the house with shrimp heads in my hands.
Have a nice day.