An Unappetising Proposition

On the face of it, one might think that squid was a somewhat unappetising proposition in the flesh. Those who are squeamish about their food – and I am firmly convinced their number has never been greater – could hardly warm to squid. It is covered in a strange purply-brown skin, is very slimy, has strange tentacles, a nasty little beak and a sac in its stomach full of pungent black ink. Were they to meet a squid in its natural state, many of its devotees would run a mile.

Of course, more often than not, squid turns up in breadcrumbed fried rings and could not look more innocuous. It is this more genteel entry into society – often as calamari – that has guaranteed the cephalopod its acceptance. I have watched too many children spurn some of the finest fish in the sea because of bones, disregard lobster on the basis of its menacing appearance, reject razor clams, winkles, oysters and even mussels for a legion of minor peccadillos, and refuse octopus and the innocent cuttlefish, only to accept squid with alacrity.