" In Marseille you could walk down to the docks in the mornings. They had urchins, still alive. An offhand exchange, a few francs for this delicacy. The rocks are littered with debris, empty shells opened with a knife, rinsed by salt water, and sucked dry on the spot. Men taking lunch with bottles of their hard house wine, watching the boats move in and out. It's the ovaries---the coral ovaries. They are supposed to transfer a great power when you consume them. Absolutely voluptuous, the texture, absolutely permanent, the taste. It stays with you for the rest of your life."
She went toward the door, pulling her hair back. She looked at me thoughtfully. "There are so many things to be blasé about your youth, your health, your employment. But real food---gifts from the ocean, no less---is not one of them. It's one of the only things that can immerse you safely in pleasure in this degraded, miserable place. "

― Stephanie Danler , Sweetbitter