My promise to Tim rings hollow today - this blog isn't a follow-up to his nominating me for the Stylish Blog Award as it was supposed to be. No pie-crust promise this time, Tim! The next blog *will* be in response to the Stylish Blog Award.
Today, there's just something I have to get off my chest. Uh-um... Out of my chest? Oh, bad pun (you'll understand after reading the entire blog). Someone please, for god's sake, get the image out of my head!
The Gaelic family is adventurous when it comes to food. Deirdre adores Brussels sprouts. Finola has eaten venison, buffalo, and elk. I tried rattlesnake once, frog legs a couple of times, and alligator on several occasions. Yes, even Rocky Mountain Oysters. There is a beef liver, tongue and heart in my freezer waiting to be cooked up in a hearty dish. But there are limits.
Raw oysters never cross my lips anymore following an experience with a bad one many years ago. Mr. G and I had some bad sea urchin once, never again. And that Japanese fish that's poisonous? No thank you.
Now comes news of things that really turn the stomach. Especially two pieces of news this past week.
In a small town in New Zealand is an annual food festival that in past years has served up such "delicacies" as wasp larvae ice cream and deep-fried huhu grubs. This year the craze will be shots of strawberry-, chocolate-, or vanilla-flavored horse semen. Yes, you read that correctly. Horse baby gravy. Claims are that it tastes like a milkshake.
On the other end of the spectrum (in every literal sense) is news from England of a new ice cream flavor - Baby Gaga. Made with Madagascan vanilla pods and lemon zest, it's said to be very rich and creamy. Rich and creamy? You be the judge of that. It's made with free-range human breast milk! But this free-range human won't be volunteering to help produce or consume it. And I have better ideas for Madagascan vanilla pods.
There are just some things I draw the line at. Horse semen shots and breast-milk ice cream are two of them.