Waiter, waiter, there’s an octopus in my soup
When the waitress said there was an octopus in my soup, I refrained from making a joke, even although it was on the tip of my tongue.
For some inexplicable reason, I assumed this exotic seafood would arrive ready-sliced or in bite-sized cubes. I was not quite prepared for the fact that there, sitting impressively on my plate, was not just one, but several intact and fully-formed baby octopus.
I could see why, in some parts of the world, octopus are believed to be the remnants of an alien life form. They are wonderfully weird, after all.
For the full story, pick up a copy of today’s Press and Journal or read our digital edition now.