It’s St. Patrick’s Day, so understandably you are probably expecting me to post something about corned beef/Irish stew/chocolate stout cake etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. Well, I’m not. I’m sorry. I did make a delicious loaf of Irish soda bread yesterday that I will tell you about very, very soon (spoiler: tomorrow!), but first I must, *must* get this rock shrimp off my chest.
You see, I’ve had rock shrimp on the brain for no less than 6 weeks now. It all started in early February at the fish market, when I saw the tiny crustaceans being delicately scooped into a silver bowl that was nestled snugly in the finely crushed ice of the shellfish case. I was immediately struck with the most intense craving to cook them, and a myriad of various preparations started whirring through my cabeza.
If you have never had rock shrimp before, they are incredible; they are less like shrimp in taste and texture, but rather more akin to tiny, sweet, luxurious little nuggets of lobster meat. Generally they come already peeled and with their sand vein removed, as their shells are spiny, hard, and nearly impossible to remove at home – lest you wish to risk hacking off a much needed digit whilst trying to break open their solid exterior. And I’m going to go ahead and guess — you probably don’t.