It was Shark Week, so we marked the occasion by watching Jaws, which, in case you haven’t seen it since you were a kid, has lost none of its terror. That is one bad-ass shark.
Though it’s possible that shark week would have passed me by altogether, had I not been looking at sale jewelry in J Crew in Soho, and seen two small boys proudly examining what looked a lot like shark teeth, and stalking each other round the shelves, jumping out from behind racks of clothes, singing “duhduh … duhduh … duhduhduhduhduhduh …”
The Evolution bag that their Mom was holding made the whole picture make more sense. This is a store that sells all kinds of natural oddities, from human skeletons to dried killer bees in tiny little glass bottles. She shrugged to the store at large. “Shark Week.”
“Graggggh! I got you!” said the smaller of the boys triumphantly.
“You know, I don’t think sharks growl,” said his brother thoughtfully.
“They do so.”
“Mommy, do sharks growl?”
The woman considered this; “no, I don’t think so,” she said. But it made me wonder; if a shark growls in the ocean, and there’s nobody alive to hear it, does it make a sound?
Dark and Stormy (per glass)
I’m told by my husband who has some experience with sailing, that this is what posh people drink on their yachts, preferably in Bermuda. As for me, this is what I drink on muggy Manhattan days when I seriously wonder how people ever survived before the invention of air conditioning.
The real recipe calls for 3 oz of rum, 3 oz of ginger beer and the juice from about half a lime. But if you’re in a dark and stormy mood, the last thing you want to do is start measuring things.
Fill a highball glass with ice. Pour really good dark rum about half way up the side, then top up with really good quality ginger beer (I’m on a Barrit’s kick right now). Squeeze in lots of lime, and drop the lime wedge in as well for good measure. Stir carefully to mix.