Pleeeeze, Mommy? Pleeeeeeeeeeeeze!
Posted on 11/06/2001 7:57:20 PM PST by PJ-Comix
Just to take a break from politics for a bit, I was wondering if there are others out there who also have a taste for weird exotic foods. I thought I was one of a kind in this regard until I read a newspaper article that said that there are many folks who have a hankering for exotic foods that others may find yucky.
I've eaten sea urchin eggs directly from sea urchins, cooked ox tails (or "tako" as it is called in the Phillipines), raw quail eggs, all manner of spicy European sausages such as the very garlicky Kabanosi, blood sausages in Argentina, alligator meat, and I don't even have to be drunk to eat the worm in the Mezcal bottle (although I usually am since I have to drink my way to reach it).
So what are your favorite "yucky" foods? I am always on the lookout for new exotic foods so I will be most interested in reading your comments and food suggestions.
Are the kids the appetizer or the dessert?
Pleeeeze, Mommy? Pleeeeeeeeeeeeze!
For appetizers I had a little cracker with a poached quails egg, topped with a poof of cheese. Kind of like a mini-egg McMuffin. Must be eaten in one bite or the yolk runs down your chin.
The oddest dish I had was in a small village where we had lunch. I ordered a dish that was like a fried block of onion rings, except instead of onions, it was whole minnows, eyes and all. Served with a thousand Island type dressing for dipping. Not bad.
| Tastes Like Chicken Before I left for Japan, young David, son of Bruck, planted a note in my suitcase with a simple directive: Dear Dad: Eat some grose food. Love, David. We arrived late in Nagoya, having lost two hours in Detroit to a fuel pump repair on our 747. We then took the train to Kobe where we were to spend the night. With no time to catch dinner at any of the local restaurants, I ordered a light snack of fried beef from room service. We discovered the next day that mad cow disease had just struck Japan, but hey, you've still got a better chance of getting hit by a bus. We've made several trips to Japan by this time, and have noted that our hosts never drive us from the hotel in Himeji to their offices in Tokonabe by the same route. We've speculated with some amusement as to why this might be, but never actually discovered why. That is, until the other day. Mr. Masoto (not his real name) informed us that it's the company's management policy to never follow the same route in commuting during overseas travel, in order to avoid kidnapping or other malfeasance. Evidently they apply the same philosophy to guests traveling in their own country as well, although my vulnerability to kidnap is considerably less than that of getting hit by a bus. The joke would be on them anyway; the employer of Bruck would probably pay them to keep me! But apparently it was with this same spirit of protectiveness that our hosts sought to shield us from the perils of mad cow disease by taking us to a Yakitori (baked chicken) restaurant. Baked chicken, what could possibly be more benign? We have grown accustomed to exotic and unlikely cuisine, as alert VOB readers have already noted, and some of us, your faithful editor included, have even grown to like it. We do have some minor stipulations on our culinary thrill-seeking. I have a severe allergy to shellfish, so I have to avoid the crustacean hazards. Jay (not his real name) cannot comfortably digest raw fish or meat; Hashim (not his real name) avoids pork for religious reasons; Bob (his real name) inhales all food and drink in front of him like a shop-vac. Other than that, we're pretty flexible, and even somewhat ambitious regarding the variety and state of the proteins we ingest. So we were actually a little taken aback when our hosts informed us that we were going out after work for baked chicken. With the arrival of the appetizer, we immediately discovered that not all the chicken was going to be baked, or even cooked. It consisted of a small dish of raw, skinless pieces of dark meat, lightly toasted around the perimeter, in a tangy, sweet vinegar sauce with orange caviar. Of course, we must commend the remarkably efficient Japanese for their frugality in not wasting food, and for their resourcefulness in its definition and scope. The skin from the chicken pieces in the first dish of our appetizer appeared, also raw, in the second dish of our appetizer, along with some mixed greens in a light, tangy vinegar and soy sauce. Proving that God is not dead, although He apparently takes an occasional nap, the balance of the meal was cooked. The first course consisted of small chunks of white meat on little skewers, in teriyaki sauce, and tubes of ground chicken, also on skewers, like city chicken. Had the meal ended at this point, we may have escaped slightly hungry, but with our sense of normalcy still somewhat intact. But this was not to be. With the second course, we embarked on a journey from which we won't soon return. It consisted of little chunks of chicken liver on one set of skewers, and thickly folded pieces of roasted chicken skin on another set. The third course propelled us further along this trajectory with what appeared to be gizzards on one set of skewers, and a mottled conglomeration of mysterious organic substances of various shapes and textures on the other. The meat on the gizzard skewer was nicely grilled with a pleasant marinade, but was quite chewy. At one point a chunk of it fell out of my chopsticks and bounced a couple of times on my plate. Our hosts claimed that it was the stomach, or it might be the intestine. I still think it was gizzard. The mystery meat had a combination of flavors as strange and unappealing as its appearance, so one skewer was enough for the palate of Bruck. Our hosts, themselves not sure what it was, asked the waitress who calmly and politely identified the round protuberances as testicles. So apparently roosters also actively participated in our meal. "We can't explain what the rest of it is," they allowed. That's okay, we don't think we want to know. The fourth course consisted of "chicken tails." It was the tail alright, no attempt having been made to conceal the reproductive passageway. It was kind of chewy and pretty fatty, had some cartilage in it, and was otherwise pretty tasteless. The final courses brought us gently back to reality with skewers of barbecued "normal meat," as our host referred to it, slices of chicken breast on rice with seaweed, and clear soup with a chicken meatball. But at this point our gai-jin appetites had already been stretched beyond yielding. Dear David: I ate some grose food. Love, Dad. My therapist says that eventually I'll stop suffering from recurring nightmares of being chased by giant roosters with scissors. |
However, when hubby and I moved to North Carolina, I could no longer get Matzoh crackers and myself, the hubby, and our kids just were miserable without our weekly quotient of Matzoh Brei...I looked in all the grocery stores in North Carolina, and even spoke to the stores managers, who had no idea even what a Matzoh cracker was....
Whenever anyone visited from Chicago, I would ask them to bring us a few boxes of Matzoh crackers...my mom got to the point where she was sending them to me in the mail...
Now all this happened during the 1980s and hopefully today those stores in North Carolina wised up and got some Matzoh crackers....We now live in the Pacific Northwest, and are able to get our Matzoh crackers...and I agree, Matzoh Brei, slathered with melted butter and served with a generous dab of sour cream, is just about heaven....
One time, while in North Carolina, and desperate for some Matzoh Brei, but had no Matzoh crackers, I tried to create it using saltines.....obviously this did not work...Matzoh crackers just absorb the water and puff up...saltines just dissolve in water
This sounds like the Durian that was mentioned earlier in this thread. I'll definitely checked the Vietnamese stores for this item.
Never tasted it fresh, but I have some wafer cookies made from it and they are so-so...
Eggs fresh from a sea urchin is almost the same as Uni in a restaurant only a bit less salty. BTW, I learned about eating sea urchin eggs directly from a sea urchin from reading Ewell Gibbons. I think the book was "Hunt for the Blue-Eyed Scallop" or something like that. If you like weird exotic food then reading Ewell Gibbons is a MUST. I learned a lot from reading his books. I also loved his info on how to make coconut wine. When I watched "Castaway" all I could think of was how it was a pity that the Tom Hanks character hadn't read Ewell Gibbons because he could have stayed blasted the whole time he was stuck on that island.
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.