I will eat most things. Though do pass on rabbit because their skinned body reminds me too much of cat. Pigeons floating in broth too did challenge me – some banquet in Hong Kong. I looked at FOS – for help. He quietly hissed at me to just get on with it as not to disappoint the corporate client: Lead by example. Which didn’t stop him to take a call – away from the table – till that bloody soup was replaced by yet another of 22 courses. I did lead by example: No one touched it.
Snails. Back in the late Seventies I liked snails. Mainly for the garlic butter. No more. There comes a time in life you wake up to rubbery texture.
What else? Pearl Barley. I hate Pearl Barley. It’s slime.
Eel is out of the question. On account of their likeness to snakes.
My mother – not easily unsettled by any of her children – warns me off bananas. I like bananas. They are easy. On the way in.
Do have real problem at the moment with food intake. The Angel has not yet threatened to force feed me. But it can only be a matter of time. It’s fascinating. You may be hungry. But you are nothing without appetite.
All the above was brought on by ox tongue. I don’t mind liver. I will eat kidneys just to be polite. But tongue? No. It brings too close to home the one thing I can’t stomach: Slaughter.
Make of me what you will. Let me know what makes you retch. And don’t believe anyone telling you that the Chinese eat dog meat. They may well do. But they’ll have to farm them. Not steal your skinny chihuahua off the street corner. Fascinating the way the Chinese eat with their sticks. I once witnessed this in Red China. Bowl close to their mouths. Shovelling it in at the rate of knots. That’s when I took in the concept of cultural ‘difference’. There is one thing the Chinese have in common with the Dutch: Bicycles. They are everywhere. Not a car (or a dog) in sight.