I always feel I ought to try the seafood when I’m in places by the sea. But Jesus Christ, whenever I do I’m horrified. If it isn’t the half severed head and face of a dead sea-beast staring back at me with milky eyes and rigor mortis, it’s the sheer Lovecraftian horror of seeing what has been pulled from the depths, fried and served as a beige and black mass of insectoid legs, exoskeletal armour, and suckered tentacles all aquiver.
The very deep did rot: O Christ!
That ever this should be!Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy sea.
Lovecraft’s Old Ones finally meet their match in a deep fat fryer in Sicily.
Simply delicious - Coleridge’s Catch of the Day.