I have fond memories of a sidewalk table in Paris in the 4th Arrondissement and a plate of fresh langoustines, which, according to the waiter, had been shipped in from Spain the evening before. They were split in half and gently cooked in white wine and garlic, plus a bit of butter. I can taste them still, and since that day three years ago, not a month has gone by that I did not think of those crustaceans with hunger. Yesterday I was a happy man, because during lunch at Tony’s, a langoustine was brought to the table. It, too, had been halved lengthwise, and gently sautéed, and the meat was cooked to the perfect texture (too often these kinds of things — shrimp, lobster — are overdone, resulting in a rubbery mouthfeel). These langoustines at Tony’s are fresh, not previously frozen — the man himself told me so. And you’ll want one.
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