May 25 2005

The Slothful Gourmet


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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