the case of the mystery meat

That picture is from the supermarket where they sell brains for consumption. We decided not to try any because we already had quite enough mystery meat for the week.

Hells no, we did not eat brains—more like loads of intestinal crap (intentional pun) and some liver. It came sizzling on a hot plate, seared to perfection for organs that process waste. Kind of like eating a crispy trash can. An inimitable experience! Did I mention the restaurant was named “Jesus”?

How did this happen? Well, we were reading so much about offal and the Argentine experience that Davidson and I literally decided to order the seared “meats” plate simultaneously, after being charmed by velvety-voiced host. We were in the “when in Rome” frame of mind. Big mistake—I almost choked on the blood sausage, barely ate the intestines, and thought the sweetbreads was chicken! I almost cried when I bit into the “chicken” that I saved for last!

While I’m certain some peeps might love this sort of thing, I don’t think we’ll try it again.

3 thoughts on “the case of the mystery meat

  1. When did you get squeemish? I thought you had an iron stomach. I, on the other hand, will be bringing a suitcase of Ramen noodles when I visit!

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