Originally posted by Ex Finn. OK.
The worse thing I ever ate...Balut.
Neighbor, married to a Filipino, walks up the drive-way. He is carrying couple egg`s and offers one to try out.
Tells me it is a delicacy and I will love it. He (a retired navy SEAL, with a twinkle in his eye) hands me this egg with a half developed chicken inside.
No choice...(FINN`s don`t blink) the chick goes down the hatch with hot and steamy, smelly feathers, the small eyeballs popping and the tiny feet and the little peak crunching with every bite.
Would have been better with some salt.
edit: reminiscing this interesting culinary experience just made me forget about the hociR.
I think the Chinese call this the Hundred Year Old Egg.
Sometimes I wonder what ever possesses people to concoct the crap they will eat. I can safely say I will not ever eat the half incubated then buried and allowed to rot chicken egg.
Delicacy or not.
Originally posted by Pioneer Worst thing I ever ate...
Not sure I want to remember.
However, I did raise three daughters and each and everyone of them HAD to learn how to cook. You just learn to close your eyes, open your hatch and say..."you're getting better dear"...as whatever that was went down. And if you're lucky you don't break any teeth in the process.
But...what doesn't kill ya will make you stronger...right?
But I would still stay away from my older daughter's prime rib if you value your stomach at all.
Just a bit of friendly advice.
And the younger one has been exploring French cuisine...but I'm not too sure she really understands the words yet...
But if any of them tries to serve me roast hociR...well let's just say I won't be having any of that.
My grandpa told me once, "When you get married, you eat anything and everything your bride puts on the table. No matter what it is, or how bad it may be. She will eventually figure out how to cook and do it well. This is the only way to keep peace in your home. Complain about her cooking and there will never be peace in your home or your marriage."
My great grandma used to fix fried chicken feet for my great grandpa (they were German, on my mom's side). He would never complain about it, but once he did ask her, "Minnie, for vat do you fix dem damn tings for? Dey scratch in the ch*t mit dem!" Apparently she thought he liked them.
For me, Wife 1.0 was a lousy cook, but she fancied herself and a culinary expert. One particular dish she concocted was a stew. Every kind of root vegetable imaginable was in it. Rutabaga. Parsnip. Turnip. Potato (several different kinds). Carrot. Burdock. Radish. Beet. Daikon. Jicama. Onion (also many different kinds). Garlic. No meat, just vegetables and broth. It wasn't too bad, and remembering my grandpa's advice I ate it.
Talk about cleaning out the colon. I called it Super Colon Blow when relating to friends the effects it had on my gastric system.
Domestic Partner 1.0 (Mrs. Racer) is quite the opposite. She can cook. And rarely uses a recipe. She will open the fridge, freezer and pantry, look at what is there, then methodically pull stuff out and start cooking. And she is quick too. She can walk into the kitchen, spend a few minutes sizing up the options, and in less than 20 minutes the aroma of something wonderful fills the house. In 17 years she has never put anything on the table that has failed to delight my taste buds.
She is a natural.
I think I'm gonna keep her.
But I will not buy a K3.