I once took a four man boat to an island of Greece, where at the edge of the water sat a small restaurant. The tables were perched outside while the wind whisper good conversation across the tops of your ears. It was there that I watched the cooks beat a live octopus against a rock while I sipped on a shot of expresso with some friends. The way the octopus looked at me each time they lifted him up was horrifying. It was as if he was shocked I was drinking it black.