Hound Dog
Apr 29, 2010, 7:57 AM
Post #22 of 35
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Re: [tashby] The worst cooking task is....
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Today, my vote goes to peeling, and especially, deveining camarones.
OK, Tashby, my first response about cleaning warthog guts in the Namib was meant to be funny whether or not it was actually amusing which is doubtful. As I stated elsewhere, I stole that from Anthony Bourdain´s No Reservations show when he visited Namibia and ate with indigenous Namib tribesmen on a hunt in the desert. A shameless hoax.
Now I am ready to beat the de-veining camerones schtick. Dawg never ate freshly cooked chestnuts until I married into a French family and started stuffing my chickens and other fowl with chestnuts instead of cornbread based stuffing. God, what a pain. You first must cut an "X" into the chestnuts and then parboil them but, as you probably already know, you must peal them while they are still hot and those hot peels are often uncooperative and damned unpleasant to handle. The resulting chicken infused chestnut stuffing makes this task worthwhile but perhaps it is the effort that makes this dish worthwhile.
I do understand the shrimp de-veining thing ever since, while living on Mobile Bay in the 1970s, I decided to surprise my family, who lived farther inland, with fresh shrimp just off the shrimp boat when it docked a la Forrest Gump and I committed to prepare countless pounds of shrimp for a family get-together but I must admit I only de-veined the first pound or so because I became nauseated at the thought of de-veining even one more shrimp for all of eternity. No one in the family seemed to notice that some of the shrimp in their shrimp cocktails and other shrimp dishes were de-veined and some were not de-veined. Actually, once I got over considering the probable constitution of the shrimp vein, I learned to love shrimp veins the way Peter Sellers in Dr. Stranglove, learned to stop worrying and love the vein, er - bomb.
Now, I have never made a tamal and, no doubt, never will since, as I mentioned previously, in San Cristóbal the tradition is that every Saturday night the women of the town open their doors and sell outstanding tamales which I have observed having been made and no thank you to doing that. Too much work. I also noted that any decent tamal claiming to be a tamal contains an enormous amount of lard and only lard will do unless one is kidding oneself so perhaps eating tamales too often is an invitation to stent city (or is it stint?) for us geezers.
(This post was edited by Hound Dog on Apr 29, 2010, 9:10 AM)
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