My culinary adventures as of late had become anything but. My weekly cuisine was a rotation between the local Chick-Fil-A, Lee’s Sandwiches, and Honey Nut Cheerios. So when the chance arose to trek to a Yakitori joint this past week, I immediately jumped at the chance.
nOOb as I was to the whole Yakitori scene, I did know that the titular dish was grilled chicken on a skewer, which someone with even the most pedestrian tastes would find fairly acceptable. What none of the anime I had watched ever told me was that these establishments also served all manner of other chicken and beef parts.
I mean, I’m a believer that animals are very tasty – a belief I firmly stand by – but I often want my knowledge of my meat’s origins to be rather vague and nebulous. This is, in fact, the only way I am able to consume hot dog and spam: by clearing my mind absolutely and chewing and swallowing as quickly as possible. Long story short, I asked my companion to order while I put my hands over my ears, saying “LALALALALALA.”
The food was extremely delicious and all I asked was that I never be told if I did, in fact, eat an animal’s testicles.
As we transitioned into December this week, your favorite ragtag group of bloggers (and we’d better be your favorite) waxed philosophical about the McRib; intergalactic mice; and decapitated heads. That warm feeling you just felt? That’s the holidays, baby.
Well, that or you just pissed yourself from fear, buddy. Read more...