Decatur County Fair

Last night my coworker drove me through some of the mountains to a seaside town (though with a small land area and giant craggly coastline, every area in Hong Kong is a seaside town). There we pointed at things swimming in tanks, and ten minutes later we ate them. Prawn. Giant prawn (still prawn, but the size of a lady's shoe). Scallops. Squid. Well ok, the squid wasn't swimming anymore. And the scallops were just kind of sitting there, like they do. But everything else was moving.

I had had (regular size) prawn once in my life before, which was on the plane ride here. Scallops once or twice. And I'd tried calimari before, but the texture had grossed me out and I don't think I'd ever swallowed it.

But even with (or maybe because of?) all of my seafood ignorance, it was one of the freshest, most flavorful and textured meals of my life.

During the selection process, after we had chosen our prawn, one of the survivors kept jumping out of the tank. Sometimes two or three feet in the air, landing in other tanks or on the pavement. The guy kept putting it back in its place, but after the third or fourth jump I kind of wanted him to just toss it back into the sea. I like to think he gathered up his prawny energy and made it all the way back to freedom in one bold leap.