“Cook Books have always intrigued and seduced me” says Alice
B. Toklas in her famous cookbook of 1954. She likens the way they held her
attention to the way murder mysteries held Gertrude’s. It was in those novels
that she encountered murder most foul…. until it was found in her own kitchen.
She notes that it was France and it was wartime, time and prepared food were at a minimum. The fishmonger
had no time to prep the fish for her. If she wanted carp… she would have to
kill, scale and filet it herself. And so she does.
She struggles with just how to go about ‘dispatching’ the
animal in her market basket. She decides to just whack it at the neck with a
knife until it is “dead, killed, assassinated, murdered in the first, second
and third degree” after which she falls “limp” into a chair and waits for the
police to come and take her away.
I know exactly how Alice felt. Meet Inky and Blinky:
I found myself recently having more than one conversation
with meat eaters who really, really want to believe that animals come wrapped
in cellophane. I readily admit I put on my animal blinders while being
carnivorous at times, but I am also one to face my fears so… off to the live
fish market I went.
My father used to take me to do this when I was a kid. He’d
let me pick out our rubber band wrapped, pincher adorned dinner. I would, without fail, ask to keep them as
pets. I would never watch him plunge them into the pot. I just couldn’t.
This was on my mind as I stood in front of the crab tank and
chose two. It really did feel strange walking down Mission street with live animals in a
bag… but that’s how it should be. Right? I mean we should know, not just where
our food comes from, but we should know
our food.
I had a talk with Inky and Blinky before I too committed
murder. And yes, it really felt like murder. I thanked them for giving up their
little crabby lives and I promised to do them justice.
Once cooked, I laid them out on the counter. Their ‘fur’ was
silky soft and just called to be petted. After I made peace with what I had
just done, I set to cleaning and cracking them. As soon as I thought I was
dealing with ‘dinner’ and not ‘animal’ there were the insides. The brain, the
melted fat, the gooey, gooey matter had to be scraped out and washed down.
Once the act was completed…. dinner was served. It was the
most deliciously sweet crab I have ever eaten. Designated Eater Mimi, not a big
crab fan, adored it. It was so rich, and there was so much meat that we could
not eat our way through both the crabs. Mimi was going to toss the remaining
legs. I would not hear of it. Inky and Blinky gave their lives! I was not about
to waste a single piece. I would not allow them to die in vain. This may sound
a bit melodramatic… but I truly felt this way. And I guess that was the whole
point of the thing right? Alice,
I feel you girl. As for Inky and Blinky? R.I.P. Thank you.
EB
