Some people have secrets. I have one, and I'm afraid it's of the deep, dark variety. After a long time deliberating with myself I've decided to share that secret with you. It took me 7 years to admit it Barnaby, so count yourself lucky that I'm dishing to you.
Here goes (deep breath)...I love pickled pigs' feet (exhale).
I know, it's kinda sick, but I can't help it, they're good. They're tangy like pickles, but soft and delicate, much like a vinegary chaud-froid. I still feel bad about myself when I eat them though. Like I should only sneak-snack on these gelatinous morsels alone in my darkened pantry.
When I buy them, the cashier usually makes some comment along the lines of, "What are these?" and I always respond with, " I know! Gross, huh?! I'm buying them for a friend as a gag gift! Haahaa!" Or, they simply look at me like I'm nutters.
If I had a tail it would be between my legs.
Author and chef Anthony Bourdain seems to share the same penchant for the unspeakable. Check out his book The Nasty Bits: Collected Varietal Cuts, Usable Trim, Scraps, and Bones.
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