When i was a kid growing up in knoxville, tennessee fresh shrimp was as rare as, well, shrimp teeth. But now and then some aspiring entrepreneur would hire a truck down on the gulf coast, load it up with shrimp fresh off the boat and packed in ice chests, and drive up here overnight. Then they'd set up in a parking lot somewhere and sell out of the truck. Whenever my mother spotted one of these trucks, she'd stop and buy three to five pounds, and boil them up in beer and old bay seasoning. She'd make up some cocktail sauce, butter and lemon, tartar sauce, and make a salad. It was such a fun meal because she would spread newspapers on the living room floor and we'd have a picnic. We would simply discard the shells right on the newspapers.
