Denis, me & the king prawns

It was early 1988 and for the first time in my life, I was sitting in a proper restaurant. Furthermore, I was in a right old panic. I wanted to make a good impression on my lunch companion, but the menu was an utter mystery to me...

Having just started as a trainee reporter on Convenience Store magazine (the fortnightly for neighbourhood retailers), my editor wanted me to meet his former colleague, Denis. Denis was a knowledgeable figure in the drinks and grocery world who had worked in both journalism and PR. He was well placed to help a young tyro such as myself find his way in the industry.

And so, there we were. Denis and I, sitting in what seemed to me to be a very posh venue – way outside my comfort zone. As a 22-year-old, my only experiences of eating out at this point had been the very occasional pub meal with my parents. But this was different. Denis was friendly but he was a proper grown-up, with a grey suit and a deadpan smile. We were having a BUSINESS LUNCH. And I was trying to get my head around the 'à la carte'.

I was used to beans on toast, chips and Findus Crispy Pancakes. My favourite dish was mashed potatoes and salad cream. Yet this menu was full of things I’d barely heard of, never mind eaten. Then something caught my eye. Prawns. I liked prawns. Every Christmas Day, my mum would serve up a prawn cocktail as a starter. It was delicious. Bits of lettuce, little prawns from the supermarket, and some kind of pink sauce.

Problem solved. I ordered the prawns.

But then it happened....

The waiter set before me a bowl of big, hard-looking things in some kind of soup. I was horrified. This must be what prawns looked like when they’re in the sea. They were so much bigger than the ones in mum’s prawn cocktail. They had shells and claw things. They had heads with little black eyes looking up at me.

Denis must have sensed my panic. I had absolutely no idea what to do but didn’t want to show my ignorance. So I did the only sensible thing in the circumstances. I speared one of the king prawns with a fork, shoved as much as I could into my mouth and started crunching.

My lunch companion stared back at me. By this point I was starting to realise I had probably made a terrible mistake. Trying to chew and swallow these things was horrible. But I felt I had to pretend I knew what I was doing. I pressed on and ate the lot.

Denis ­didn’t say a word – I don’t think he wanted to embarrass me, which was very kind of him.

When I returned to the office, the team was keen to know how I’d got on. I explained that Denis had been very helpful but that my food had been awful. “I’m never eating whole prawns again.”

Puzzled faces looked back at me. “You ate the WHOLE thing?”

I had terrible stomach ache that evening.

These days, I love prawns, but always take the heads and shells off before eating them. Yet the experience did teach me a useful lesson. If you don’t know what you’re doing, ask for help.

Bon appétit! 🍤