Someone needed some Pom Therapy today, so we moped our way over to the Tokoman for a hit of the good shit. And, like so many things aren't, it was still good.

While Mara recharged her little self via her much-needed pomvalescence, I threw caution and 2.75 euros to the wind and had a broodje surimigarnalen. Klary posted something about them recently, and I think I've written about them as well somewhere around here, but basically they're kind of freaky-looking fake shrimp made out of surimi (or more accurately, kamaboko. In Japan, the unseasoned fish paste used to make what we call "surimi" is actually what they call surimi. What we call surimi they call kanikama, which is a kind of kamaboko. I think.)

Whatever. De Tokoman's presentation of these shellfish impostors involves a lot of Javanese sambal and some homemade pickles.

Be forewarned: this is a sandwich that is better left unopened. It's completely brutal and visceral-looking, like that time on the icy tundras of the planet Hoth when Han Solo had to cut open the ton-ton to keep Luke alive (don't worry, I had to look that up):

Yet also really great eating, like I imagine the ton-ton might also have been, except that this was warm and tropical and very habanero-spicy instead of frosty-cold and innard-y.

Well I've completely grossed myself out, so let's talk about some actual viscera. Mine!


Liver function tests show that things are moving in the right direction (as far as I can tell) but still have a way to go. I post this here as a public reminder to myself.


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