Thanks to Mrs. Chili for reminding me of this memory:
I’m about as adventurous an eater as they come. I’ll try it once, whatever it is.
Ahem. Ever had a balut? It’s a hard-boiled duck or chicken egg, but fertilized. Call ’em “late term,” too—the chick is just about done. They originated in either Vietnam or the Philippines, and are generally sold as street food.
Twelve or so years ago, my mom came back from a trip to eastern Asia raving about these things. Moreover, she wanted to get set up with someone local to get a steady stream of eggs in the correct state of development. She did, and in time for me to visit. Oh goody.
I’m going to spare you photos, but rest assured, they’re at least as bad as the mental image you’ve likely generated for yourself—which is to say, they’re quite disgusting-looking. The Wikipedia article has a few images. You’ve been warned.
So I sat for my grand cultural gustatory experience. Now I like eggs, and I like chicken. Seems a reasonable stretch that I’d like a balut, however it looks, right?
Yeah. So.
They were little eggs—slightly smaller than the smallest eggs commonly sold in the grocery store. For that I was grateful. I peeled it. Ever peeled a hard-boiled egg while simultaneously trying not to look at it? It was a big bite, but I could reasonably make it only one, so that’s what I did.
Now it’s in my mouth. I’m going to have to chew it. OK, here…I…go.
The taste itself isn’t so bad. I had salted it on Mom’s recommendation, and under the salt was sort of a non-specific poultry vibe, with maybe a vaguely discomforting edge to it.
But the texture. Oh, my dear sweet Moses, the texture.
I got it down. I didn’t quite vomit, but it was as close as you ever come without doing so. I was immediately off my beer, and I didn’t have much of an appetite for the rest of the afternoon. All the while, Mom was poppin’ ’em like Pringles.
I couldn’t have chewed up and swallowed another one for $10,000.
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My dad was stationed in the Phillipines between WWII and Korea. He used to tell me about the filipinos eating balut. After Navy boot camp I went to my A school and just happened to have several filipinos in my class and we just happened to be in S. California where there is a sizable filipino population. Sure enough they came back to base one day with a dozen or so balut. I almost puked watching them eat. They’d take a bite and the juice would run down there chins and you could hear the tiny bones crunch as they chewed. I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.
Soooo. You ever eat a sammich with legs hanging off the sides?
That is just NASTY.
I’m so sorry; I’m about as open-minded as they come, and I certainly don’t judge anyone ELSE for eating whatever they want to eat, but there’s no way in HELL – with our without a hefty monetary inducement – that I’d EVER even ATTEMPT to choke something like that down. I WOULD vomit, and there’s little I hate more than vomit (anyone’s, really, but my own especially). You’re a braver man than I, Bo.
Ditto what Mrs. Chili said. Blech!
‘seester: Do tell. What kind of legs?
Soft shell crab legs. They are only in season for about 2 weeks, but a soft shell crab po-boy is da bomb: 1) because fried soft shell crab is amazingly tasty, and 2) the tourists at jazz fest freak out and hide their children when they see you walking around with legs hanging out of the sides of your sandwich.
Oh and the eyes sometimes stay in there.