Chow Time
Yesterday I had the pleasure of experiencing my first
authentic Chinese meal. When I was
younger, even the pickiest eater looked like Oliver Twist compared to me. I remember on several occasions my
mother would prepare a dish she called porcupine meatballs (basically meatballs
with rice grains). Well, rice was
one of the top items on my “I will not eat this” list, and so each time
porcupine meatballs was on the menu, I would precariously pick through my dish,
eliminating each grain of rice and depositing it into my napkin. This process would take hours at the least,
and as my mother washed the dishes, she would patiently repeat “Two more bites,
Megan.”
Everything was served chilled, and to my surprise there were very few vegetables, but a variety of meat including a few pieces that looked like a cross section of a very fat centipede. One of my fellow travelers informed me that it was in fact tripe (cow’s stomach). So I gave it a go. A little rubbery, but once you get over the texture, all you can taste is the countless spices used to cover up whatever it originally tasted like. Not too bad.
Tags: food