Of the many pressing responsibilities visited upon the modern spinster aunt, splashing around in idyllic Hill Country swimming holes with the young relative (and afterwards repairing to a shady grove for a light lunch that was prepared by somebody else) is among the most challenging. Yesterday I was able to complete the aforementioned project in a mere three-and-a-half hours, and was back in the lime green recliner with a book of bell hooks essays in plenty of time to watch Bertie Wooster in that witty, sentimental doctor show on Fox.
I am pleased to report that this feat of spinster aunthood was accomplished with the aid of shrimp spring rolls from Central Market, which–after factoring in ease-of-use, fat content, palatability, and the degree of sloth their implementation allows you to get away with–don’t suck. At first I was reluctant to try them because of their apparent connection to the sushi department. I mean, let’s face it; grocery store sushi flouts laws of physics by managing to be both gummy and desiccated at the same time. But the spring rolls were glossy and not unfresh-like. Minty, basily, shrimpy, carroty, vermicelli-y. The only flaw was the slightly sub-par peanut sauce, but lazy mofos buying spring rolls in grocery stores can’t have everything.
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