“It was inevitable: the scent of bitter almonds always reminded him of the fate of unrequited love.”
Mr Derwood Hunsdale-Talbot’s comments:
I feel the same way about the smell of boiling shrimp shells. Hands bump as we sift out pink exoskeletons with a slotted spoon. Eyes meet through pungent steam. Delicately salted, if you know what I mean.
The fate: overcooked, rubbery shrimp. It was not meant to be.
