Kou gan is King

It’s like someone took a probe, ventured into the chaos within my cranium, and transmogrified it into succinct and meaningful prose.

Oh for such a talent.

I can now confidently identify myself as a rheophile and The Boy as a neophobe. I have already sampled the delights of natto and sea cucumber, and also calves’ brain, aged 8, at a wedding in Belgium. Apparently I asked my mother what it was, to which she replied “yes dear”. Bemused but unbothered I continued to eat. Not much has changed since – my mother still makes as little sense, and I still adopt the attitude that, as long as it doesn’t make me retch, spontaneously combust or fall over, I’ll continue eating.

Feijoada in Rio de Janeiro presented me with a whole plate full of UFOs – unidentifiable floating objects. Pigs’ feet, tongue, and even an ear complete with hairs were amongst the delights I could identify, the rest I can’t say. What I can say is that it was a serious food moment, hairs aside. Completely delicious.

Regarding the items mentioned in the article that I have yet to encounter, my Japanese boss has shown me a photo of a plate of ducks’ tongues. She went home last year and this was one of the ‘show-stoppers’ at their big family meal. I have yet to be presented with such a show-stopping plate, and I’m not entirely sure that I’d hasten the process, but I would be mighty interested to see if they taste like what they look like – sprawling, pointy, hard, rubbery, mutant squid. After all, I like a good chew off.

I wonder what the Chinese think of our food…mashed potato with (sloppy) veg, gravy and slow cooked roasts…(soggy) pastry enclosed around more slow cooked meat or veg. Steamed puddings, custards and cakes. Soft, beige and unchallenging. The closest we get to a crunch is a crumble, or a biscuit, but even then we insist on dunking it in tea and rendering it wholly pappy and wet.

*sigh*

Not that I’m about to start eating goose intestines on toast or deep fried duck feet with mayonnaise. I don’t think The Boy would appreciate that much. Being the neo- and rheophobe that he is, it’s still touch and go with things like tofu (“oooh. Um. It wobbles”) and bread crusts (“but it hurts my teeth to chew). But it’s why food is constantly in my head – there are the recipes, production methods and ethics to consider, as well as what it says about cultures, history and individual characters.

The Boy – Will instinctively pick the easily understandable. Alone, will not think outside of what he has experienced before. Prefers the known to the unknown, the latter resulting in clammy hands. Muted, soft and creamy (occasionally insensate).

Me – Will instinctively pick that which is not understood, regardless of the potential side-effects. Thinks so constantly about what has been and what could be experienced, results in headaches. Prefers the unknown to the known, the latter resulting in a nihilistic “my life is slipping away from me” mentality. Tart, crunchy and kaleidoscopic (occasionally rampageous).

Sounds about right.