A jumbo shrimp problem
Had to say goodbye to Christine, the first (and possibly only) purebred Vietnamese born in Germany. She speaks fluent German, French, and English. I only got to know her for a month, but I miss her already.
For her farewell dinner, we went to Quan Nuong (lit. translated as "grilled food place." I've slowly noted that the most popular local places have the most concise names.) There, we ate wonderful things like beef wrapped around onion and cheese, fish fillet, and my hands-down favorite, bacon-wrapped salmon and bell peppers. Simply throw on the grill and in a few minutes, enjoy heaven celebrating in your mouth.
Thinking of indulging in one more dish, the guest of honor ordered the shrimp. Cue forboding music. The plate came to us with raw shrimp stabbed right through their bodies with skewers. Imagine a bunch of foreign eyes bulge as we watch the shrimps' (oh yes, more than one) legs writhing about. Still alive. With skewers impaling them through their whole bodies. My stomach lurched, and in true Fear-Factor fashion, hid behind one of my many internal organs (it wouldn't tell me which one), curled into fetal position, and refused to bring its game on. My heart, on the other hand, wanted to pull an "Elliot" (the E.T. frog scene), take out the skewers and rush to the pollution-infested river and give them a fighting chance (before they asphixiated on the oil/trash/river-yumminess, etc.).
My vegetarian neighbor, an English expat named Jemma, shared my mix of disgust and sympathy. So, she did what she had to. With compassion rivaling John Steinbeck's "Of Mice and Men," she took a butter knife and started snapping their heads to save them from any pain they might feel from the grill. I could only keep handing them to her, knowing that I did not quite have the strength to kill them, but I could at least support her while she was doing it.
Maybe one day I will have that kind of courage, but for now, I'd much rather watch someone put a needle into my arm than put it into theirs. And, as a personal choice, I'd prefer my food to be dead before I attempt to put it in my mouth....
For her farewell dinner, we went to Quan Nuong (lit. translated as "grilled food place." I've slowly noted that the most popular local places have the most concise names.) There, we ate wonderful things like beef wrapped around onion and cheese, fish fillet, and my hands-down favorite, bacon-wrapped salmon and bell peppers. Simply throw on the grill and in a few minutes, enjoy heaven celebrating in your mouth.
Thinking of indulging in one more dish, the guest of honor ordered the shrimp. Cue forboding music. The plate came to us with raw shrimp stabbed right through their bodies with skewers. Imagine a bunch of foreign eyes bulge as we watch the shrimps' (oh yes, more than one) legs writhing about. Still alive. With skewers impaling them through their whole bodies. My stomach lurched, and in true Fear-Factor fashion, hid behind one of my many internal organs (it wouldn't tell me which one), curled into fetal position, and refused to bring its game on. My heart, on the other hand, wanted to pull an "Elliot" (the E.T. frog scene), take out the skewers and rush to the pollution-infested river and give them a fighting chance (before they asphixiated on the oil/trash/river-yumminess, etc.).
My vegetarian neighbor, an English expat named Jemma, shared my mix of disgust and sympathy. So, she did what she had to. With compassion rivaling John Steinbeck's "Of Mice and Men," she took a butter knife and started snapping their heads to save them from any pain they might feel from the grill. I could only keep handing them to her, knowing that I did not quite have the strength to kill them, but I could at least support her while she was doing it.
Maybe one day I will have that kind of courage, but for now, I'd much rather watch someone put a needle into my arm than put it into theirs. And, as a personal choice, I'd prefer my food to be dead before I attempt to put it in my mouth....
posted by Vivi at 9:54 PM
2 Comments:
Nice write up. YOu are going to miss all the good eatings if you return to Austin.
At least you knew they were fresh! Sounds delicious to me. I hope you are ready to take cau Phu and me out to your favorite places. Send me a note to discuss our impending arrival and think about where you want to go for your birthday dinner. (We arrive in HCMC on 4.12)
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