The Specialty

Yesterday, a co-worker/friend invited me over to her parents' for lunch where her father filled my plate to nearly overflowing with lots of Thanksgiving leftovers. As I was wondering how I could possibly eat everything on my plate, I heard him say, "K, you need to be sure to let her try the specialty." K kinda laughed and seemed hesitant. "What is it?," I asked, imagining something delicious and only for those who had a special love for dessert, but she wouldn't say. When K came back into the room, she was followed by a guy who was introduced to me as a family friend that was helping with their remodeling project. As soon as he walked into the room, I thought, "Man! he smells funky! That is such an odd smell!" I hoped he'd leave the room ASAP!! but he, too, sat down with a plate full of food, to eat with us. Just then, K pointed to a bowl of slimy, stringy nastiness that looked like a big glob of fat to me. It was "the specialty". When it comes to food, I'm always one to try new things . . it kinda goes along with my whole "love new experiences" thing and I just like being able to say I've tried weird stuff. I have to admit, I was really worried about this, though. It wasn't until after I'd put a small bite in my mouth that I realized . . this is what smelled bad. And it tasted worse. All I could think was, "Ok, Queen of Facial Expressions, don't let them see how painful this is. Focus. Don't breathe through your nose. Don't think about. Just don't think about it." K asked, "Do you want to know what it is?" "No, not yet," I said, thinking I have to swallow it first and make sure it's down. After what seemed like an eternity, it was over. "Ok, what was it?" I asked. "Chitlins," she said. "They're pig intestines. It's an acquired taste."

That is one taste I will never acquire.