Sunday, November 9, 2008

Half-Assed Gourmet: Endless Shrimp

Two words I hear every autumn bring out the Homer Simpson in me: ENDLESS SHRIMP. Say what you will about Red Lobster, but it's food sure does the job for me, especially when it's ENDLESS. If ever there's a time for the old "seafood diet" joke--you know, "he sees food, he eats it"--it's when this is going on.

The Shark family enjoyed a feast there a few weeks ago, and while I was the only one (over)indulging--my wife doesn't eat seafood, and my baby daughter is more into rice cereal than shellfish at this stage of her life--we all had a good time.

By the way, if you're already about to comment that America is too fat and we hardly need all-you-can-eat restaurants and by the way I could stand to lose a few pounds myself, well, please don't. I ask for so little in life. The Pittsburgh Pirates haven't been in the playoffs since 1992, we still don't have a legitimate definitive DVD collection of "Get a Life," and I'm not going back to Aruba anytime soon. So give me my Endless Shrimp once or twice a year.

Fortunately, this most recent visit, two factors combined to make me feel like less of a glutton: One, a friend was there to share the burden of Endless Shrimp, a fellow who understands the nuances of the meal--like, don't fill up on the shrimp pasta, sample all choices before getting seconds of any particular shrimp offering, etc. More significant was the tidbit a shrimprunner gave us. By the way, I made up that term, but I think it's better than server or waiter. After all, Endless Shrimp is so exciting that Red Lobster can't even rely on its servers to bring the dishes to the table--hence the shrimprunner.

Anyway, when one of the ladies at our table remarked on the amount of crustacean being hauled out from the kitchen, the shrimprunner (have you noticed I like that term?) said it was nothing. One individual, in fact, had recently indulged in 35 servings. 35! My friend and I combined came nowhere near that total. Figure an average of about a dozen little creatures per serving, and that's 420 shrimp. There are sharks that don't eat that much in a year! Wait, sharks do eat shrimp, right? Is anyone here a marine biologist?

Naturally, this intriguing news only made us hungry for more info, so we pounced on that shrimprunner as if he were the shrimp rather than merely the man who set it on the table. Did he take any breaks? How many servings at a time did he get? Was there one type that he favored--like, did he get 20 helpings of coconut shrimp?

The questions continued, and the shrimprunner crept off like he was sorry he even brought it told us that in the first place. I don't think he answered any of our queries. Well, why bring something like that up if you're not willing to elaborate on it? You can't just bait us with a tale of a man who ate 35 servings of shrimp and expect us to not ask some follow-up questions. I guess he thought he could get in there, wow us with his Endless Shrimp trivia, and then get right back out. Actually, I guess that is what he wound up doing. Come to think of it, we didn't see him again.

It mattered not, ultimately, because, aye, the shrimp's the thing, not the mythology, and though I didn't enter the lore of that local Red Lobster with my efforts, I got my money's worth and filled my belly. Yet I was able to walk out of the restaurant with some measure of dignity, knowing that while I consumed a hell of a lot more shrimp than I needed, I sure didn't have 35 servings of it. I highly recommend Endless Shrimp, with the new Cajun Shrimp a solid if unspectacular addition to the roster.

2 comments:

Ivan G Shreve Jr said...

In the period of my life that I have often dubbed "the Morgantown years," I would often take my best friend from high school and her husband out to dinner...and the restaurant of cherce was usually the Ponderosa Steak House chain because they let kids eat for free--which was a godsend, as their kids were usually more concerned with running up and down the aisles of the restaurant as opposed to seeking sustenance.

One night, Ponderosa was offering an "All You Can Eat Fried Shrimp" special, something that I and the husband immediately glommed onto like a life preserver in the middle of the Atlantic. The problem was, being an individual whose body proportions resemble that of the late Orson Welles, the Ponderosa staff sort of shuddered when we ordered this...and I think we were able to down two full plates of fried shrimp before the third one arrived in a distinctively overcooked manner.

Rick (the husband) looks at me and remarks: "Shrevie...I think our ride on the free shrimp train is about to come to an end."

Anyway, I have some frozen butterfly shrimp in the fridge...I think that will be the bill of fare on what I like to call The Nuclear Gourmet.

Michael Cowgill said...

I have no real comment except the "word verification" Blogger is supplying right now is "lardola." You heard me "lardola." Blogger thinks it's funny.