I was just served pig's feet.
It's my fault, really. I should have picked up on the cues when they said "Are you sure? I don't think you'll like it." In my defense, I was told it was "pork," not "Porky's Toes."
I poked around at the two lumps in my bowl and sipped at the soup, trying not to think about what would secrete when you boil feet. David asked, "So you don't like it?" I tried to feed him an "I'm working on it" line by saying, "Well, I just can't find the meat..."
"No meat," he said, "just skin."
Just then, something bent and snapped. I think I broke Squealer's ankle.
I've never been a huge fan of pork grinds, but at least those are fried and crunchy. You see, I don't enjoy skin. Chicken, pork, turkey... I'll pass. Give me meat, not skin. I've even been known to skin grapes before eating.
But besides that... why feet? Do we really have to consume all of the animal? I mean, A+ for frugality and conservation... but feet? I draw my line after stomach or gall bladder.
This is all to say that Babe, Wilbur and their potbelly friends are safe when stepping onto my plate...
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3 comments:
To be forewarned is to be forearmed. That's for the warning! You are the new Paul-Revere of pigs' feet. Wow.
Thanks to you: I'm safe.
Ahh I hope I don't encounter something like that. Luckily, being a vegetarian in India isn't uncommon... so I should be fine... but I'm using your experience as a caution of warning. I'm asking for translations.
Some call our American eating habits frivolous...but I don't know whatcha call a nice bowl of pig-foot soup!!!!
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