4as a snack
By Zuza Zak
We were at a beach shack in Latvian seaside resort of Liepāja, on the edge of a vast expanse of powdery sand. Well, more like a concrete box, really, but it was perfectly placed for selling fried fish and seafood to hungry beach-goers. Every afternoon of our stay we sat here, our metal tables and chairs warmed by the glow of the setting sun, eating salty fried sprats out of paper cones.
If the fishmonger hasn’t already cleaned the sprats for you, start to cut across just below the h