Being Shellfish.

Don't call me a shrimp!

Hanoi, Vietnam – I really wasn’t sure what I was ordering.

Which isn’t out of the norm when I'm here.

But I at least knew it was prawns – delicious, delicious prawns. And something about a ‘sauna.’ (A prawna sauna?)

When the plate came out, a tiny leg poked at the plastic wrap, causing it to curl like a leaf. I became curious. Raw, living prawns? What have I done?

Sushi gone wild.

Then came a heavy pot with smoking coals and lemongrass resting on top.

The waiter returned and poured a half a mug of beer into it, followed by prawns the size of my fist. They quickly blushed as the boil flowed from the dish, flavouring the air.

A quick dunk in some lime and chilli pepper salt, and dinner was served.

Once, of course, I disrobed them from their shells.