The last day I spent in Almería, I had the lovely chore of gutting the calamari that we were to eat for lunch. I was given the choice to opt out, but I figured I had to try it at least once in my life. The experience proved to be similar to the snails I tried last week- fun and tasty, but I´d rather not repeat.
Warning: squirmish readers please skip to the next paragrah. For the interested calamari-gutting virgin, read on for a complete description on how it is to be done. First step: rinse off the icy calamari before the disection. Then, twist off the head in a pinching motion. Feel around within the head for a black ball similar to a peppercorn- the mouth apparently. Attached is a clear transparent thread that (used to) lead to the hungry fish's stomach. Remove both mouth and thread. Now, the eyes follow. This part involves more force and a wincing facial expression. Unfortunately, at one point my squinting eyes were squirted by the late George Calamari´s eye juice. My lungs inadvertently released a high-pitch squiel, that which the house cook Luisa couldn't help from chuckling. Now that the tiny octopus-like tentacles are removed, move to gut out the innards of the poor calamari. Fishing within him, mercilessly toss all the creamy white guts. Note: meanwhile this step my stomach was mercilessly turning. Lastly, feel for the tip of the spine. Break the brim of the flesh where the spine had met the head. Cautiously pull out the transparent thread and place what is left of George in the pan along with the rest of his friends.
Albeit that was an outlandish explanation, I have a point. I was discussing with my sister what we are going to leave behind in Spain and take home to California. One thing that I will be taking home is a different mentality. The calamari sitting on the plate is what I imagine my mind looks like. After seven months of getting lost, losing things, being helped by strangers, being lost in translation, observing unique communities, and having delicious conversations with beautiful people, my mind is raw and ready to be marinated.
I won't be coming back with all of the answers to what I want to be and where I want to go; I will simply be coming back with a malleable yet healthy mindset of the possibilities. I have one year left at Berkeley, and after I graduate I will have to use an open mind to pave a unique path for Maggie Palmer. I didn't see how Luisa prepared the calamari after, but lunch was especially delicious that last day in Almería.
Warning: squirmish readers please skip to the next paragrah. For the interested calamari-gutting virgin, read on for a complete description on how it is to be done. First step: rinse off the icy calamari before the disection. Then, twist off the head in a pinching motion. Feel around within the head for a black ball similar to a peppercorn- the mouth apparently. Attached is a clear transparent thread that (used to) lead to the hungry fish's stomach. Remove both mouth and thread. Now, the eyes follow. This part involves more force and a wincing facial expression. Unfortunately, at one point my squinting eyes were squirted by the late George Calamari´s eye juice. My lungs inadvertently released a high-pitch squiel, that which the house cook Luisa couldn't help from chuckling. Now that the tiny octopus-like tentacles are removed, move to gut out the innards of the poor calamari. Fishing within him, mercilessly toss all the creamy white guts. Note: meanwhile this step my stomach was mercilessly turning. Lastly, feel for the tip of the spine. Break the brim of the flesh where the spine had met the head. Cautiously pull out the transparent thread and place what is left of George in the pan along with the rest of his friends.
Albeit that was an outlandish explanation, I have a point. I was discussing with my sister what we are going to leave behind in Spain and take home to California. One thing that I will be taking home is a different mentality. The calamari sitting on the plate is what I imagine my mind looks like. After seven months of getting lost, losing things, being helped by strangers, being lost in translation, observing unique communities, and having delicious conversations with beautiful people, my mind is raw and ready to be marinated.
 |
| From the Almeria train station |
I won't be coming back with all of the answers to what I want to be and where I want to go; I will simply be coming back with a malleable yet healthy mindset of the possibilities. I have one year left at Berkeley, and after I graduate I will have to use an open mind to pave a unique path for Maggie Palmer. I didn't see how Luisa prepared the calamari after, but lunch was especially delicious that last day in Almería.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Send me your thoughts!