I have never quite understood the difference between a shrimp and a prawn. "I'm not a shrimp” a character called Jimmy Brown said indignantly in one of Enid Blyton’s Circus books. "Well maybe you're a prawn then.", replied the circus man, quick as a flash, demonstrating, in Blyton’s world, the ready wit of circus folk. Blyton knew the difference, but I still don’t. And what are Dublin Bay prawns? And scampi? And what is the singular of scampi? Apparently, it’s scampo. I used to eat scampi out of a basket in pubs in the late 1970s. Here, though, are two plates of deliciousness from about thirty years after that. An oasis in East London. Red wine, not white.
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