Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Texture Torture: Squid

I never thought my kitchen would evolve into a place of torture. I’m a female but not stereotypically squeamish. Others are free to disagree but this is my opinion. On Saturday, I was struck by my usual craving spell. This time it was for calamari. Due to my upbringing I believe in the integrity of natural ingredients. I submit to the school of “the fresher the better”.

I therefore decided to purchase fresh off the boat squid. I live in landlocked Atlanta so I took my local seafood grocer’s word about the freshness of his product. The squid was a limp blackish grey creature. I became overwhelmed by fear at the sight of it. It looked gross. From the eyes to the tentacles, I was not pleased. I touched it and it was soft and squishy. Being the brave person that I am, I kept my goal in mind: fresh calamari. I focused and pressed on. I checked my pulse and it was elevated. My anxiety level was high. Where was a sous chef when I need one? These were words that I thought I would never utter, as I can be quite selfish with my kitchen.

After staring at the squid I decided to act. My fear was illogical. The squid couldn’t hurt me but it felt so gooey. At last my mantra prevailed. In the face of fear, I acted. I proceeded to take hold of the squid for what felt like eternity. With knife at hand, I cleaned it. I will spare you the gruesome details, but sadly the anxiety level did not subside during the task. However, by the end of this nasty ordeal, I was satisfied to have conquered my ridiculous fear.

I am happy to report the squid was delightful. I made a sauce with garlic and San Marzano tomatoes, served over pasta. Any remnant of anxiety melted away with each bite. I will definitely make this dish again, but next time I will enlist the help of a sous chef.


1 comment:

viridiansun said...

oh my...

that's gross

you're brave

i couldn't have done it

but congrats