TRUE STORY>>>>> Back in the 70’s while living in Germantown, TN, a suburb of Memphis, I taught school about an hour away out in a rural community where most of my students were from share-cropper families, in the spring, they all ate dirt. It was a traditional “delicacy” they looked forward to. They would dig it from the side of a slope that cut into a tobacco field with very rich black moist soil, put it in a bowl and eat it like it was pudding. They called it “sweet dirt”. I didn’t believe it until one of the moms invited me to come join them. I can’t remember the excuse I gave them, didn’t want to hurt their feelings because I loved those kids dearly, but secretly eating dirt was beyond my limits.
Have since rethought your initial reticence?