Scampi’fied

Disappointments? Hmm well apart from the obvious ones in life that I have i.e.

• Penis – Far too ordinary and mundane.
• Height – still a good two inches off 6ft with an ever diminishing probability I am going to have another growth spurt (I am 27).
• Myopia – I doubt my cornea are going to spontaneously regenerate.

Actually I am depressing myself now so I will stop and tell the story.

When I was a little shrimp maybe 9 or 10 I used to love breaded scampi and chips in a basket. My dad used to take me after swimming to a pub on the way home every week and we both used to have it. It used to be a real highlight of the week.

Fast forward a few months to summer holidays in France. We always used to go to France but at that age it was still exciting even though I eventually became somewhat jaded. We had a static caravan in the south of France and we used to drive down and stay in a few hotels on the way. In one place (possibly Anger) we stopped for a night and went out for a meal at a French restaurant.

I read the menu and saw a phrase that warmed the cockles: Langoustine (Scampi).

I inwardly rejoiced and begged and pleaded with my mother for the scampi. She said that I wouldn’t like it, and that it would be different to my beloved English version. I argued that it was the only constant that was available to me at that time and that it wouldn’t matter what it looked like. I threw a wobbly, as I was determined that would have my favourite dish. I shouted and loudly cajoled and was as obnoxious as a foreign child in a restaurant can be.

My parents eventually allowed me to have the Scampi. What joy of joys! Oh the ecstasy of having scampi in an unfamiliar place! They ordered it and I sat feverishly waiting for the food to arrive (I was also famished).

The moment arrived.

I remember thinking to myself ‘where’s the basket?’ as the garcon approached and brought the dish to the table and placed before me in a flourish.

It was monstrous, a travesty of a scampi.

It was a bubbling giant prawn with feelers, antennae, mandibles, and revolting coal black eyes.

It was pink and scaly. It had a jerking tail. It looked me in the eye and it’s as if it inserted a chitinous appendage into my heart and pulled out my innocence and morality.

It was an alien decapod.

The look on my face made my bastard parents burst out laughing. They said exceedingly helpful things like ‘we told you so’,’ you should listen to your parents’, ‘we always know best’ and the unforgettable ‘well you DID insist…’

In the end I ate steack frites whilst sniffing away my tears.

Such was my disappointment in life that I could never look a basket of scampi in the eye again.
(powervator and NONE SHALL PASS, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 16:47, 4 replies)

once i found out that
scampi was made from prawns, it never tasted as good again.
(09824739yhsidfhshfgq8weeq3e1, Mon 30 Jun 2008, 23:49, closed)

Evil laughter
I put my ex's sister off taramaslata by telling her what it was.
(ThomsonsPier consumes, Tue 1 Jul 2008, 12:10, closed)

langoustines
are just like tiny lobsters..the best bit is when you delicately detach the head from the tail and suck its little brain juice.
miam miam.

if you want scampi in france you need to order "crevettes"
( olivier8 (euroloon), Wed 2 Jul 2008, 10:14, closed)

^
Thanks for the Crevettes tip although I think my young self would have still freaked out unless they were served in small, anodyne, breaded bite sized pieces as I was used to.

Now that I am in my (relative!) dotage I would probably fight to the death a giant king crab and eat its raw entrails.

Such is life...
(powervator and NONE SHALL PASS, Wed 2 Jul 2008, 15:57, closed)