On my way to the grocery store on Sunday (blessedly empty for the most part — the Red Sox were playing the Yankees), I walked past a sign that said “Seafood Tempura” leaning against someone’s front fence. It looked handmade but reasonably competently done, like something you’d see hanging over the Japanese food booth at a fair. There was another sign underneath, but I was a scairdy-cat and didn’t peek to see what it said. From now on, though, I’m keeping my eye on the trash that that house puts out on Monday nights. They may be getting rid of a giant deep-fryer.