Nuts to That!
Anthony Bourdain I am not.
When I was a little kid, I decided I hated fish. The taste skeeved me, and I was positive I’d choke to death on the tiny bones that inevitably found their way into my mouth. Because we were Catholic, this meant that every Friday night at dinner, there’d be a battle royale between me and my mom. (For those unfamiliar with the tradition, Catholics are supposed to abstain from meat on Fridays – fish is OK, though.)
As my mom was cooking for five children and two adults (counting herself), she wasn’t inclined to make substitutions if somebody didn’t like something. So, one Friday I decided to fake a food allergy. I must’ve been about four or five years old at the time. I took a bite out of the fish stick and immediately started fake-choking. I clutched my throat and ran for the bathroom where I fake-vomited for a few minutes. I splashed my face with water, came back into the kitchen and gravely announced that I had a deadly allergy to fish.
My mom rolled her eyes at my performance and told me to sit the hell down and finish my dinner. Lather, rinse, repeat. Every time I’d take a bite, I’d lapse back into dramatics until she told me just to eat my vegetables and forget about the fish sticks.
For years I was convinced I’d fooled her into believing my fish story. It was only after I was already an adult that she told me she always knew I was full of it, but that if I was going to put that much effort into faking it, I’d kind of earned the right not to eat it. Which is a long way of saying that I’ve always been a picky eater.
And despite what my fat ass might lead others to believe, I’m still a picky eater. They say most couples fight about money and sex, well, my boyfriend and I war mainly over where we’ll eat. “You have such boring taste,” he always moans.
Well, I have a little something to fix his wagon. The other day, an e-book called The Testicle Cookbook: Cooking with Balls (Yudu Multimedia) popped up in my inbox. Recipes like “Bull testicles with Bechamel Sauce” and “Lamb Testicles in Foil” got my taste buds going and my brain kicking. Boring, eh?
However, Houston, there is a slight problem. Testicles a la Dime Vuk sounds yummy, but where was I going to get grape brandy, let alone five pairs of pig testicles? Last time I checked, there wasn’t a ball department at Whole Foods.
Throughout most of the world, testicles are considered an aphrodisiac (go figure). I know I was getting hot and bothered reading the description of Testicles a la Knez Milosh: “Remove the skin of the testicles completely, and cut them into thumbnail-sized slices.” Yum! For those of us with more traditional (boring!) tastes, there’s even testicle pizza. I predict that’s going to be the surprise hit at my Super Bowl party this year.
Of course, I won’t tell him until after he’s finished the last slice.