am I part of the family now?
So, Susan's family had another reunion, and, as is my custom, I made an appearance to take part in the usual food eating and Heineken imbibing. This time around, I had a particularly long and deep conversation with one of Susan's uncles, after which he offered me a goose egg, and implied that I should consider eating it, if I wanted to become a part of the family.
Now, I'm all for becoming a Doan, but I did recall hearing something about these eggs, something to the effect of them having a small chick inside. But, I reasoned, it couldn't be all that bad, seeing how all the kids were eating them. My manliness was already tested on chicken feet and cow stomach, so surely I'd be able to pass this last hurdle.
Besides, little chicks are cute, right? And cute things, like lamb and quail, are very tasty!
I bravely broke the shell, sucked out the juice, and prepared for the feast with the requisite salt, pepper, and mint. Next, I sunk the teaspoon into the egg and produced something... well, it's kinda hard to describe. It looked like a tiny head of a dead pigeon, or maybe a perodactyl. For a split second, the head started at me with its underdeveloped eyes - but no more, since my honed reflexes enabled me to dump it into my plate without any of the Doans noticing. My stomach, trained by years of drinking, also held up - but barely, as it relocated very close to my throat.
Still, I had the whole "become part of the Doan family" thing in front of me, so I gingerly took a couple of miniscule spoonfuls, and made chewing noises while trying not to imitate Bush Sr. at a dinner with a Japanese Prime Minister. I must say, as far as deformed fetuses go, the contents of the egg were quite soft. Can’t tell you about the taste, because my brain decided to put a temporary restraining order on my taste buds.
I did not get the boost of energy that Susan’s uncle promised, but I guess I’m a Doan now, even if it was by the slimmest of margins.
For a great description of this dish, balut, as well as some appetizing pictures, check out this site.
Now, I'm all for becoming a Doan, but I did recall hearing something about these eggs, something to the effect of them having a small chick inside. But, I reasoned, it couldn't be all that bad, seeing how all the kids were eating them. My manliness was already tested on chicken feet and cow stomach, so surely I'd be able to pass this last hurdle.
Besides, little chicks are cute, right? And cute things, like lamb and quail, are very tasty!
I bravely broke the shell, sucked out the juice, and prepared for the feast with the requisite salt, pepper, and mint. Next, I sunk the teaspoon into the egg and produced something... well, it's kinda hard to describe. It looked like a tiny head of a dead pigeon, or maybe a perodactyl. For a split second, the head started at me with its underdeveloped eyes - but no more, since my honed reflexes enabled me to dump it into my plate without any of the Doans noticing. My stomach, trained by years of drinking, also held up - but barely, as it relocated very close to my throat.
Still, I had the whole "become part of the Doan family" thing in front of me, so I gingerly took a couple of miniscule spoonfuls, and made chewing noises while trying not to imitate Bush Sr. at a dinner with a Japanese Prime Minister. I must say, as far as deformed fetuses go, the contents of the egg were quite soft. Can’t tell you about the taste, because my brain decided to put a temporary restraining order on my taste buds.
I did not get the boost of energy that Susan’s uncle promised, but I guess I’m a Doan now, even if it was by the slimmest of margins.
For a great description of this dish, balut, as well as some appetizing pictures, check out this site.
2 Comments:
You're Doan, You're a Doan!!! We get it already. Stop describing this egg to me :P
This is no bacon wrapped in lettuce, Jude - this is some serious stuff we're talking about here!
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