The joy of fresh prawns

I bought some fresh prawns. They were a snip at £6 a kilo. I have no idea where they came from, or how they were caught or farmed. But there’s a limit to my ethical eating habits. I wanted to try a Moroccan prawn dish. I went to the market. I saw. I bought. Tomorrow is another day.

There’s something special about fresh prawns. I find it relaxing to shell them, pulling off the heads first, then splitting the shell and peeling it off the flesh, leaving bite-size morsels of heavenly seafood delight.

Normally I set aside the shells to make stock. I boil them in some cold water for an hour, adding garlic and bay leaves and whatever else takes my fancy. Improvisation, remember? The stock is good for umpteen things. Sometimes I use it as the basis for a sauce to go over fish. On other occasions, I just bung in some rice for a seafood, paella-style dish with whatever else I have in the fridge.

This time, I didn’t have the energy. I chucked them. Never mind. I was focused on the Moroccan dish and little else.

More on that tomorrow.