Even though my family is far from what you would call “religious”, we still enjoy getting together for the holidays. So, for Easter Sunday, we had ourselves a little feast, and then played some cards - as is the tradition.
For dinner, we had a beef tenderloin stuffed with a filling of minced mushrooms and shrimp with spinach - delicious. Also served were some grilled chicken pieces and some grilled shrimpies - also delicious. That was all accompanied by some corn, potatoes, rolls, etc. For desert, my grandmother’s specialty - cheesecake.
Not long after we sat down for dinner and began to gorge ourselves, Mom asked how everything was. I remarked that the grilled shrimpies were especially good, and followed that up with a brief comment on how I’ve recently instructed Judy to never, ever, ever buy pre-cooked shrimp. My Dad tried to interrupt with a “But…”, and I cut him off as I laid out the only exception to my rule, which is that pre-cooked shrimp are OK if you’re serving a cold shrimp cocktail to a bigger group. Conversation quickly moved on.
Later, Mom asked again, “So Bryan, you really like the shrimp?” - and of course I said something along the lines of “Yeah, these are great”, as I stuffed another 2 into my mouth. Shortly afterwards, I excused myself to the kitchen to make another plate for my Grandmother, then one for myself (with another 3 or 4 shrimp and a slab of beef). As I turned around, I saw Mom whispering to Judy.
It was then I learned that the shrimp I had enjoyed so much were, in fact, bought pre-cooked then seasoned and grilled.
I resolutely maintain my anti-pre-cooked-shrimp position. I firmly believe that the only reason she was able to pull off the switcheroo on my is that she really knows her way around a grill.
As we were cleaning the table off after the meal, Mom & I found ourselves alone for a moment, and I gave her a disapproving nod of the head.
Those were damn good shrimpies, though…
Comments
One Comment
Bryan, it¹s like you¹ve never paid any attention during my visits to your parents¹ home. Here¹s some advice. Eat everything. Gush about how good it all is. Lastly, never, ever state a negative opinion about any food that is coincidentally is being served in some fashion during the meal. This is why I¹m a hit with moms of all stripes.
Me = Nice Polish boy from the south side You = Arrogant son who thinks he knows more than his dear, sweet mother about how to work a kitchen
Posted March 28, 2005 at 1:34 pm by Jim .