I bought a little over half a pound of scallops ($8.10) at market today. eat them while they’re fresh, she told me. they’d just been removed from their shells last night, a lovely image to accompany my purchase. I went on to pretend at buying an obscenely expensive bike and discovered at brooklyn natural that I’m not the only one who can’t identify parsley from cilantro (they look quite different it turns out). at home I lazed about on the couch watching a guilty pleasure movie on tv, until I realized unhappily that my treasures were sitting on my desk, their freshness escaping with every passing moment. later, removing them from the refrigerator, I dropped the bag on the ground. maybe they’ll be more tender now, I thought hopefully. eating them felt like an experiment. were they overcooked, undercooked, just right? I couldn’t tell. I do know they were fun to make and were pleasing to the eye if a bit confusing to the palate.
some eggplant I made on wed when my phone (for taking pictures) was “broken”:
Mmm I love scallops!