Shrimpalicious

Last night Phil and I went to Ashley and JD's for some dinner. I took Ashley a cute little cookie jar with some biscotti in it, to thank her for carting my ass to and from work all week. I'm not sure how long she'll have to keep carting me around, but she may end up getting fifteen cookie jars before it's over.

On the menu for the night was shrimp — the peel 'em and eat 'em variety — Texas style (that's where they both lived before coming here), which, in this case, meant soaked in spicy cajun juices and then dumped onto newspaper on the table (the separate piles indicate degree of spiciness).

I've never been much of a seafood fan, and I'm actually kind of creeped out by shrimp (eating them goes against my "don't eat bugs" rule) but they were really good. Spicy enough to make your lips numb (and we were warned not to touch our eyes until we'd washed our hands) but not so spicy that water sizzles when it touches your tongue. I loved the whole dumping-the-food-on-the-table-and-digging-in motif. Easy prep, easy cleanup.