I'm not even worried about the MSG anymore

This is what my friend Sandra found in her lunch today:

(WARNING: This picture will gross you the eff out.)

No, that's not a raisin. It's a fat, juicy fly swimming in the sweet and sour sauce. (Sorry it's blurry, we only had a camera phone available.)

It was the grossest thing I've seen since a Chinese grandmother hawked a lougie on the sidewalk a few months ago.

I think this is going to deter me from visiting hawker stalls for a while, especially the one at my office.

If you remember, hawker stalls are like the American equivalent to a food court in a shopping mall, only they're a little more on the rustic side. It's pretty common for certain stalls to pre-make their food and then set it in big containers under warmers. If you're having trouble picturing it, here's a visual:

They'll put food behind the glass for display or to keep it warm. The problem is that some of these stalls don't have glass to surround all sides. That's when the flies start buzzing around. Since most Asian dishes are served in a sauce, you can imagine how easy it is for them to get trapped and stirred into our food.

I mean their food.

I'm not eating it anymore.

Sandra was pretty shaken up about it. Several of us in the office have vowed to bring a paper bag lunch for a while.

Or maybe forever.

Scary is NOT delicious

Ok now, I remember that I'm from another culture and everything. I don't always understand things that I see, smell or eat in Singapore.

But really, someone's gotta explain this to me.

How in the world could anyone look at this and say "Mmmmm, lunch!" ?

Because I look at it and say "Oh God! Someone gave us a dead and decrepit fish in a banana leaf! Who would do such a thing?!"

Unfortunately, this was what my friend got for his lunch in Science City. It was a complete accident though. When he asked the gentleman behind the counter what was in the banana leaf, the man said fish, chilli and rice.

Seemed innocent enough, right? None of us had any idea the terrifying scene lay inside.

(By the way, the tadpole looking things are anchovies, I'm pretty sure. Not that that makes it any better.)

My poor friend went very hungry that day. Thank goodness I went with fried rice. It's hard to make fried rice scary.

Facing Fears, Head On

Since I had put the horrible images of the fish incident behind me, I decided that I was not going to be defeated by ocean creatures with heads. I really want to be able to make lots of seafood dishes and use the fresh ingredients. So I returned to the scene of the crime. This time though, I by-passed the fish.

Instead, I got a bag of shrimp. They call them prawns here. I think they have an aversion to the word "shrimp". Ha ha ha.

This is how they package the fresh shrimp after you pick them out, one by one from the ice trough.
And inside, it looks kind of creepy. See that lone black eye ball staring right at you? I can't look at those. I pretend they're just a birthmark that the shrimp has.
One thing that I experienced in Singapore that I didn't in Kansas is witnessing shrimp with heads. I'd never seen a shrimp head in my life. I found it fascinating just how big they are in comparison to its body.
They also have long tail things attached to their faces. That would suck.

I de-headed all of the shrimp before I cooked them. I know you technically don't have to do that, but I'm pretty sure we all know how I feel about heads by now.
For my first attempt at cooking fresh shrimp, I think I did pretty awesome. The shrimp turned a beautiful pink and cooked up so fast. Then I put them on ice and we had peel-and-eat shrimp cocktail with salads for dinner. How healthy are we? Plus, I think I did well with my "head attached to my food" phobia.
Then Aaron told me he wished they were peeled, deveined and put into a pasta of some sort.

Buttface. So much for appreciating my healthy dinner --and my mental breakthrough.

You can't win 'em all.

They Have Heads and Everything!

The following story happened about a month ago. The reason that I have not written about it until now is because I had to let a lot of emotional wounds heal before I could speak about such a traumatic event. I think I'm ready to share now.

Here's how it went down.

One of the other Navy wives told me in Japan that the closest Singapore grocery store to our house sells fresh fish that they fillet for you. Meaning that no dirty work is involved. You remember how I've told you they sell fish here right? They just slap the things on ice, right out of the ocean. Heads and scales fully intact. It's a frightening scene. So anyways, I was excited because I've heard that the fish here is so so good since we're pretty friggin' close to the ocean and whatnot. (A Kansas girl rarely, if ever, experiences authentic fresh seafood.)

So I decided to check it out. I went to the store and stood in front of the hundreds of eyes laying on top of a crushed ice display.

Ignoring their accusing stares, I read the signs to see what I recognized. Cream snapper fish? No. The word cream and fish should not mix. So not that one. Bocourti fillet? I couldn't even begin to tell you what that one is. So that's a no go too. Then I saw Red Tilapia. Aha! I know what that is! I've even eaten that one. Yes! Game time.

Then I point to the fish, without looking at their faces, and say to the Indian woman behind the counter, "Could you fillet two of these please?". She looked at me and nodded, picking up the two fish I chose. Then she took them to the cleaning area and starting doing things I couldn't see. She came back 30 seconds later and asked, "Do you want them cleaned?" in a heavy accent. Confused, I said "Yes, please." How on Earth do you fillet a fish without cleaning it, I wondered.

That should have raised several red flags right there. But because I'm me, I just ignored it.

The lady came back two minutes later and handed me a double-bagged bag with a bar code sticker on it. I took the bag, finished my shopping and went on my merry way.

Which wasn't merry for long.

I got home to cook my fresh, delicious fish and found a horrifying scene. There were two COMPLETELY whole fish sitting in that bag.

I said several expletives and ran from the kitchen. I thought my stomach had inverted itself into my throat. I mean seriously, what the hell?! Did I not speak English to the lady? Oh wait, I know I did because IT'S THE ONLY LANGUAGE I KNOW...and one that she spoke back to me. So yeah, I was beyond pissed. I did not order eye balls.

On the other hand, I'd worked up my taste buds for this fish and I wasn't going down without a fight. I was having fish for dinner, damn it.

After I downed a rum and coke, I gave myself a pep talk. I was ready-ish. I had read how to fillet a fish on the internet and it looked easy enough. I was gonna do this.

(Oh and by the way, Aaron wasn't home. Otherwise he sooooo would've been forced to do this for me.)

So I took the fish out of the bag and made sure to not look at their faces and not touch their tails because -- ew. Then I took the fillet knife and made my first cut. It was not near as easy as they made it look online. I sawed and sawed on that damn thing. I had to really hold down the fish as I made my way only half-way through. Just as I was making some progress and doing what I thought was a pretty good job, something horrible happened. I guess I pushed too hard on the fish's gut area and black fish poop came oozing out all over the cutting board.

I lost it.

I immediately started bawling and going into hysterics. Just my luck, Aaron decided to call right about then. Our conversation can be summed up as such:

Aaron: What are you doing?

Megan: Bah. (Unintelligible dialog) Ahhhhhh. *sniffle* Bahhhhhhh.

Aaron: What is wrong?! Are you ok?!

Megan: I am filleting fish from the store and -- and it's so gross. The stupid lady at the counter said she'd fillet my fish and -- and they're not. Aaron, they have heads and everything! Wahhhhhhhh.

Aaron: Megan Nicole. You are so ridiculous. Put the fish down and I'll just do it when I get home.

Megan: NO! I already started it and I promised myself that I'd get through it. I'm already half done now.

Aaron: I don't know why you get so upset Megan.

Megan: You're not helping.

Click

So it wasn't the sweetest conversation between a married couple, but damn it, he wasn't helping the situation. Helping would have been cursing the woman at the grocery store with me.

At that point, I made another stiff drink. Chugged it. Then finished butchering innocent living things so that I wouldn't have to look at it anymore.

Then you know what happened? I cook those friggin' things and all I got was enough fish for one person. All that work and tears for one friggin' portion. I'm done with fish in Singapore. I'm back to frozen fish from Kansas.

To top it all off. I took pictures of this massacre through every step of the way. Then, in my traumatized state, I deleted them before I saved them on the computer.

FML.