Reality shows are getting in one’s face, literally. I don’t care how much money‘s at stake, there’s no way that I’d purposely eat anything with crawly legs, a hard shell--or anything soft and spongy. No way.
When I was a teen, a neighbor gave me a box of chocolates. I popped one in my mouth. It tasted bitter and crunchy. I felt things on my tongue. Mom had taken a bite, too. Janet, our neighbor, was laughing. I asked her what it was we were chewing. Chocolate covered ants…
At a cousin’s wedding, my aunt offered me an appetizer. It was delicious. I’d eaten my first snail--and my last.
We lived in the Bay Area with a mixed cultural population. The media often reported instances of missing pets, apartment fires and hospitalizations. One Vietnamese family was found unconscious attempting to barbecue a missing dog in their apartment.
Two cable TV shows showcase a male host who travels the far reaches of the world, sampling many of the native foods. He has no qualms about partaking of an animal‘s testicles, or whatever is offered to him. He looks so enthused about the dish, too. There’s something revolting about eating a still quivering heart, or sauteed grubs.
I’m sorry, but I walk upright… I won’t eat anything as long as the eyeballs are still glaring at me.