For me, the shrimp fixation began, as so many things do, with a tweet that has since been deleted. On December 20, 2021, with a second and uncertain pandemic winter already upon us, @nenzumi_ningen wrote: “Had a weird dream about a restaurant called It’s Just Shrimps! That had a $900 thing on the menu called Shrimp Christ and whoever ordered Shrimp Christ would get arrested.” The notion of an all-shrimp restaurant with an ungovernable menu item so tickled me that I made it the theme of my New Year’s party, complete with a banner that read “Shrimp Crimes ‘22.” Later that year, my friends threw me an Atlantic City-based shrimp-themed party, complete with a sparkly, glorious crown of plastic shrimp.
I’ve always loved shrimp. I grew up in Alabama, near enough to the bounty of the Gulf Coast that shrimp was a fixture. My best friend’s mom made a mysterious, delicious concoction called “shrimp dip” that involved, as best as I can figure out, cream cheese, cocktail sauce, and pecans. It was the first thing put out at every party, and the first item to be completely gone.
On trips down to Orange Beach, I would order a basket of popcorn shrimp for dinner, dipping those deep-fried crustaceans in cocktail sauce and washing them down with a vat of ice water, as nature intended. Shrimp went in everything: gumbo, scampi, po’boys, shrimp and grits. My favorite fact is that flamingos are born grayish-white. They turn pink because of all the shrimp they eat, thanks to compounds called carotenoids. (Perhaps this is also why I am so pink?)
When I got older and started going to more restaurants, I always thought that shrimp cocktail was the height of sophistication. They’re just there! In a cocktail glass! Swanning around with the lemon slices and the crushed ice! What could be more grand?
Recently, it’s felt like everyone is as fixated on shrimp as I am. There are shrimp earrings from cool-girl bead brand Susan Alexandra, gorgeous glass shrimp-vessels for at home cocktail parties, tutorials on making shrimp trees for the holidays, shrimp manicures, a little wooden shrimp band that went mildly viral on Instagram. The question of whether or not a shrimp actually fried this rice also became common in certain social media corners. Someone posted on Reddit about a tattoo that reads “shrimps is bugs,” and the phrase soon became a meme. Unlimited shrimp, and Americans’ enthusiasm for it, is threatening to bankrupt Red Lobster. Bon Appetit recently declared that “We’ve Finally Reached Peak Shrimp,” an article that was sent to me roughly two dozen times by friends aware of my shrimp obsession, and with which, respectfully, I have to disagree. The beauty of shrimp is that there is no peak. The limit does not exist.
Margaret Eby
The appeal of shrimp lies in their abundance. They’re a food that is synonymous with generosity.
— Margaret Eby
The appeal of shrimp lies in their abundance. They’re a food that is synonymous with generosity. In these times of grocery inflation, and ever-increasing prices on restaurant menus, shrimp feel like an attainable luxury. They’re relatively affordable, and available year-round. Shrimp, like olives, are for when you want to eat a dozen or more of a thing and call it dinner. You can have an entire tray of them at a corporate gathering you’re obliged to attend, picking them one by one off the snack table, or they can be the base of a seafood tower that’s topped with oysters and lobster and crabs. They hang around in packs, not solo. When was the last time you saw a single shrimp on a menu? Even at the ritziest places, they come in groups.
Margaret Eby
Shrimp are party animals, in that when they appear, you know it’ll be a party.
— Margaret Eby
Shrimp are party animals, in that when they appear, you know it’ll be a party. The party can be black tie, or it can be a rager, or it can just be you eating a full tray of shrimp in front of the television as a little treat. They don’t require a lot of fuss; you can be as fancy as you want with shrimp, or as casual. You can throw them in garlic and butter, or you can boil them with some seasoning and eat them straight. They cook quickly, and they play well with others.
And also — I can’t stress this enough — shrimp are weird little guys. They look sort of silly, like a plate full of pink lowercase letter “C”s, and even in their most dignified, unprocessed state, they have extremely long antennae that look like an overly enthusiastic mustache. They have a ridiculous number of legs, and bulging eyes. It’s hard to be too down on life when you consider a shrimp. Their power is in their ubiquity, and in their ability to remind you that always, somewhere, fun exists. You could be at a boil picking shells, or eating a sandwich stuffed with them, or at a bar with a shrimp luge. Shrimp are always there, and they’re always ready. You just have to come join the party.