Crabs

I love Som Tum. It's a rich, spicy thai salad made of juicy strips of grated green papaya, pounded in a huge rock mortar and pestle, with peanuts, chillies and all sorts of seasoning. The lady who was making it for me spoke only Thai, so she couldn't get us, or any of the Malay people in the food court to understand what she meant when she held out and pointed at a small black crab, which was waving it's pincers in the opposite direction as if to say, "look over there!"

Assuming she meant "Crab in your Som Tum?", I nodded enthusiastically and turned to walk back to the table. Scott's face froze in horror, as behind my back, she chucked the little black blighter, alive and kicking, into the mortar and smashed it to pieces, shell and all.

It did add a lovely, fishy flavour, but I couldn't help feeling like an emperor who had given a gladiator the thumbs-down death. It had the last laugh, though. Today Scott and I are feeling sorely hungover, and since there was no alcohol involved, it can only be a mildish bout of food poisoning. Cunning little crustacean.