I Haven't Tried Them, Have You?
March 19, 2009 6:07 AM Subscribe
I won't even eat ocean oysters and feel a little queasy about the crackers.
posted by DU at 6:10 AM on March 19, 2009
posted by DU at 6:10 AM on March 19, 2009
I'm with DU. "Oyster" might as well mean "nasty food nugget."
posted by explosion at 6:13 AM on March 19, 2009 [2 favorites]
posted by explosion at 6:13 AM on March 19, 2009 [2 favorites]
I was apparently too young to remember, but my mother tells me that I once gleefully devoured a great quantity of lamb testicles. Why they were available, though, I've never been able to figure out.
Besides, they're fried. How bad can fried food be?
posted by uncleozzy at 6:19 AM on March 19, 2009
Besides, they're fried. How bad can fried food be?
posted by uncleozzy at 6:19 AM on March 19, 2009
Huh, I remember James Herriot mentioning in one book that an experienced breeder or veterinarian could castrate a horse in seconds with nary a drop of blood. Looks like it applies to cattle to.
posted by Science! at 6:20 AM on March 19, 2009
posted by Science! at 6:20 AM on March 19, 2009
A coworker recently suggested that I try clams as a pizza topping. After I stopped retching, he was all "oh but they are nice a chewy". I was in the hospital for 3 days.
posted by DU at 6:26 AM on March 19, 2009
posted by DU at 6:26 AM on March 19, 2009
"oh but they are nice [and] chewy"
...But they are!
posted by CitrusFreak12 at 6:33 AM on March 19, 2009
...But they are!
posted by CitrusFreak12 at 6:33 AM on March 19, 2009
Your Favorite Regional Food Habit Sucks
-or-
HURF DURF NUTTER EATER
Currently showing in select Metafilter threads.
posted by cog_nate at 6:35 AM on March 19, 2009 [2 favorites]
-or-
HURF DURF NUTTER EATER
Currently showing in select Metafilter threads.
posted by cog_nate at 6:35 AM on March 19, 2009 [2 favorites]
Time to overthink a plate of balls.
posted by jquinby at 6:52 AM on March 19, 2009 [3 favorites]
posted by jquinby at 6:52 AM on March 19, 2009 [3 favorites]
I was in the hospital for 3 days.
Your co-worker, please punch him for me.
posted by jquinby at 6:53 AM on March 19, 2009
Your co-worker, please punch him for me.
posted by jquinby at 6:53 AM on March 19, 2009
“Everybody is going to tell you they taste like chicken,” Ms. Aguirre added. “That’s a lie.”
This sentence is why this article ran.
posted by a robot made out of meat at 6:55 AM on March 19, 2009
This sentence is why this article ran.
posted by a robot made out of meat at 6:55 AM on March 19, 2009
I'd give it a shot. Calf danglies are on the list of "Horrifying Food I Want to Try", along with balut, durian fruit, and green ant tea.
posted by FatherDagon at 7:18 AM on March 19, 2009
posted by FatherDagon at 7:18 AM on March 19, 2009
Liz Chabot, 77, who grew up on a ranch near the fly-speck town of Paradise Valley, Nev., described the delicacy as “a taste like none other,” and recalled how the fries were thrown into the fire at branding time, pulled out with a stick and then peeled and eaten like a fresh fig.
I'm sorry but that's just all kinds of gross.
posted by gagglezoomer at 7:47 AM on March 19, 2009
I'm sorry but that's just all kinds of gross.
posted by gagglezoomer at 7:47 AM on March 19, 2009
Expanding on the List of Organ Meats
Expanding on the Organ Meats
Expanding Organ Meats
Expanding
posted by CynicalKnight at 8:24 AM on March 19, 2009
Expanding on the Organ Meats
Expanding Organ Meats
Expanding
posted by CynicalKnight at 8:24 AM on March 19, 2009
Can anyone who's disgusted by the thought - and not a vegetarian - explain to me how eating a testicle is different from eating any other part of a dead animal?
posted by TheNewWazoo at 8:27 AM on March 19, 2009 [1 favorite]
posted by TheNewWazoo at 8:27 AM on March 19, 2009 [1 favorite]
Anyone know of any restaurants in the Twin Cities area that serves these bad boys?
posted by mammary16 at 8:30 AM on March 19, 2009
posted by mammary16 at 8:30 AM on March 19, 2009
So a tourist visited a small cafe in Spain, but didn't speak any Spanish. He asked the waiter to just bring him the specialty of the house. A few minutes later, the waiter returned with a dish of two large round meatballs. The man asked what they were, and the waiter told him "Cojones." "What's that?" asked the man. "They are the balls of the bull that just lost at the bull ring," explained the waiter. "Special delicacy of the house." Well, the tourist was adventurous, so he tried them, and found them delicious.
A week or so later, the tourist was back in the neighborhood so he stopped in at the cafe again. With great gusto, he ordered the cojones again. But this time, he didn't enjoy them so much. He grabbed the passing waiter after he was done eating and said "What gives? I came here last week and the cojones were large and tender. These were quite small, and awfully tough. Hardly even seem like the same thing."
"Ah, well," said the waiter with a great show of regret, "The bull does not lose all the time..."
--
This is from a book I read recently but for the life of me I can't remember which one. Credit to somebody else.
posted by rusty at 8:36 AM on March 19, 2009 [4 favorites]
A week or so later, the tourist was back in the neighborhood so he stopped in at the cafe again. With great gusto, he ordered the cojones again. But this time, he didn't enjoy them so much. He grabbed the passing waiter after he was done eating and said "What gives? I came here last week and the cojones were large and tender. These were quite small, and awfully tough. Hardly even seem like the same thing."
"Ah, well," said the waiter with a great show of regret, "The bull does not lose all the time..."
--
This is from a book I read recently but for the life of me I can't remember which one. Credit to somebody else.
posted by rusty at 8:36 AM on March 19, 2009 [4 favorites]
Can anyone who's disgusted by the thought - and not a vegetarian - explain to me how eating a testicle is different from eating any other part of a dead animal?
My theory is this: Things that are recognizable as a body part tend to up the squeamishness factor. Steak and hamburger don't look like any part of a cow that you'd see while driving through the country. But pig's feet or ears? Tongue? Eyeballs? The other kind of balls? Well, you know where they came from, and it's harder to think of them as "just meat." And with the testicle thing, you've got an additional taboo added to the mix, so that just intensifies the reaction.
posted by mudpuppie at 8:41 AM on March 19, 2009
My theory is this: Things that are recognizable as a body part tend to up the squeamishness factor. Steak and hamburger don't look like any part of a cow that you'd see while driving through the country. But pig's feet or ears? Tongue? Eyeballs? The other kind of balls? Well, you know where they came from, and it's harder to think of them as "just meat." And with the testicle thing, you've got an additional taboo added to the mix, so that just intensifies the reaction.
posted by mudpuppie at 8:41 AM on March 19, 2009
My theory is this: Things that are recognizable as a body part tend to up the squeamishness factor. Steak and hamburger don't look like any part of a cow that you'd see while driving through the country.
Chicken and turkey wings and legs don't seem to have this going for them, but I do think your theory has a lot of merit.
Also, did anybody else notice one of the links had a recipe that allowed for turkey testicles? Turkey testicles?? I'm no biologist, I guess.
posted by kingbenny at 9:04 AM on March 19, 2009
Chicken and turkey wings and legs don't seem to have this going for them, but I do think your theory has a lot of merit.
Also, did anybody else notice one of the links had a recipe that allowed for turkey testicles? Turkey testicles?? I'm no biologist, I guess.
posted by kingbenny at 9:04 AM on March 19, 2009
Can anyone who's disgusted by the thought - and not a vegetarian - explain to me how eating a testicle is different from eating any other part of a dead animal?
First and foremost, the muscle meat's generally the tastiest stuff. Organs are not generally good eats, they're called "offal", and it's derived from a German word ("abfall") that means "garbage." It's not just a coincidence that "offal" is close to "awful" in sound.
Beyond even the whole "organs are gross" thing, testicles themselves are just nasty. I can imagine wanting to take a bite out of an arm or a leg of an animal. I can even imagine ripping out the heart and eating it in a hilariously over-the-top display. But no one wants to imagine biting an animal's ballsack.
Are you being contrary, or do you honestly not see why it's gross?
posted by explosion at 9:05 AM on March 19, 2009
First and foremost, the muscle meat's generally the tastiest stuff. Organs are not generally good eats, they're called "offal", and it's derived from a German word ("abfall") that means "garbage." It's not just a coincidence that "offal" is close to "awful" in sound.
Beyond even the whole "organs are gross" thing, testicles themselves are just nasty. I can imagine wanting to take a bite out of an arm or a leg of an animal. I can even imagine ripping out the heart and eating it in a hilariously over-the-top display. But no one wants to imagine biting an animal's ballsack.
Are you being contrary, or do you honestly not see why it's gross?
posted by explosion at 9:05 AM on March 19, 2009
Anyone know of any restaurants in the Twin Cities area that serves these bad boys?
Holy Land (the big one on Central in northeast Minneapolis, not the little one in Midtown Market) typically have them fresh, labelled as "Lamb Fries", in the butcher section. They're on a styrofoam tray in shrink wrap like any other meat item, but are....unmistakable for anything else. You can see them from across the room and know what they are.
The only really odd thing about them is why they seem to be packed in threes. Maybe they're sourced from around the nuclear plant at Prairie Island?
I've seen them on sale there for years, finally got the courage to try them a few weeks ago. Traditional recipes call for a lot of advance prep (like pressing and soaking them in milk for a day), I didn't have that much patience. Skinning the outer membrane off of them was difficult; I probably should have popped them quickly in boiling water to firm them up slightly, which some recipes call for.
Sliced and lightly cooked in olive oil, they were pretty good. Tasted faintly like liver, but a lot lighter and more delicate. A dash of lemon juice went really well with them. Being organ meat, I'm assuming they're cholesterol-busters, so I won't be having them very often.
Never seen them on a restaurant menu. Never had beef, buffalo or other animal jewels, unless you consider that they've probably found their way into a lot of mystery luncheon meat and hot dogs over the years.
posted by gimonca at 9:35 AM on March 19, 2009 [1 favorite]
Holy Land (the big one on Central in northeast Minneapolis, not the little one in Midtown Market) typically have them fresh, labelled as "Lamb Fries", in the butcher section. They're on a styrofoam tray in shrink wrap like any other meat item, but are....unmistakable for anything else. You can see them from across the room and know what they are.
The only really odd thing about them is why they seem to be packed in threes. Maybe they're sourced from around the nuclear plant at Prairie Island?
I've seen them on sale there for years, finally got the courage to try them a few weeks ago. Traditional recipes call for a lot of advance prep (like pressing and soaking them in milk for a day), I didn't have that much patience. Skinning the outer membrane off of them was difficult; I probably should have popped them quickly in boiling water to firm them up slightly, which some recipes call for.
Sliced and lightly cooked in olive oil, they were pretty good. Tasted faintly like liver, but a lot lighter and more delicate. A dash of lemon juice went really well with them. Being organ meat, I'm assuming they're cholesterol-busters, so I won't be having them very often.
Never seen them on a restaurant menu. Never had beef, buffalo or other animal jewels, unless you consider that they've probably found their way into a lot of mystery luncheon meat and hot dogs over the years.
posted by gimonca at 9:35 AM on March 19, 2009 [1 favorite]
I ordered them as an appetizer at my favorite family steakhouse years and years ago. They were delicious in flavor and revolting in concept, so I enjoyed eating them and watching my sister's tortured reaction.
posted by carsonb at 9:37 AM on March 19, 2009
posted by carsonb at 9:37 AM on March 19, 2009
waiter: "Deez ees today's special deesh!"
patron: "What are deez?"
waiter: "DEEZ NUUUTZZZ!!!
posted by orme at 9:45 AM on March 19, 2009
patron: "What are deez?"
waiter: "DEEZ NUUUTZZZ!!!
posted by orme at 9:45 AM on March 19, 2009
Ha! The only real-life spit-take I've ever seen came on a ski trip to Colorado years back. We went to some local steak place and someone ordered the Rocky Mountain Oysters. They were sliced and breaded, so you couldn't really identify them. My took a few bites and said, "Mmmm, what are these."
"Bull's testicles."
"No really, what are these?"
"Bull's testicles."
SPLARG!
posted by stargell at 9:48 AM on March 19, 2009
"Bull's testicles."
"No really, what are these?"
"Bull's testicles."
SPLARG!
posted by stargell at 9:48 AM on March 19, 2009
Anyone know of any restaurants in the Twin Cities area that serves these bad boys?
Likewise to Holy Land comment above, I haven't seen them on any restaurant menus around the Cities, but I'm pretty certain I've spotted them in the little market close to my house- El Jalapeno Market, Richfield.
posted by kingbenny at 10:49 AM on March 19, 2009
Likewise to Holy Land comment above, I haven't seen them on any restaurant menus around the Cities, but I'm pretty certain I've spotted them in the little market close to my house- El Jalapeno Market, Richfield.
posted by kingbenny at 10:49 AM on March 19, 2009
I like the idea that the p;ost suggests it might not be safe for work and then we get a video with a very young girl smiling as adult woman strips the thing in preparation for yummy eating.
posted by Postroad at 11:25 AM on March 19, 2009
posted by Postroad at 11:25 AM on March 19, 2009
hey, you know what the difference between beer nuts and deer nuts are?
beer nuts are a $1.69, deer nuts are under a buck
posted by pyramid termite at 11:38 AM on March 19, 2009 [2 favorites]
beer nuts are a $1.69, deer nuts are under a buck
posted by pyramid termite at 11:38 AM on March 19, 2009 [2 favorites]
Whoagod.
When I was about eleven years old, my parents and I moved from Denver (where they'd both been practicing law in the public sector) to my dad's brush-strewn ancestral homeland in the Southern part of the state. Our housewarming, such as it was, happened in the springtime. You can see where this is going. One of our guests was my dad’s first cousin Joe-- a bald, fleshy, stubbly man; a cattle-rancher; rich on paper; with a hypochondriac wife, a double-wide trailer, and a bitterness that clung to his clothes along with the smell of his cigarettes. He showed up carrying a small red Igloo cooler—the kind once used to carry organs for transplant. In it was our share of the season's bounty: pink and fatty-looking, webbed with blood, chilling on shaved ice.
My dad made a big show of accepting the gifted testicles and he made sure I got a good, long look at them. Then, while gushing to my mom how awesome they were going to be when he sauteed in olive oil with a couple of peppers, he stowed them in the fridge. He had to move one of the shelves so the cooler would fit.
That's the part of my memory that's pretty reliable, I think. Then there's this part:
I remember summer coming, and I remember the balls still being there, languishing in that cooler. By then, the ice had melted, and you could see they still had a bit of skin-sheathed vas deferens on them. In memory, they look like swollen meat-tadpoles, or like fat, bologna-colored sperm. I didn't want to ask my dad if he was really going to cook them because it seemed like maybe he’d forgotten them, and I didn’t want him to un-forget.
Over the summer, I got lucky and made friends with the only other female nerd in the county. (I am not making this up. There were two of us. Two.) She'd come over, we'd have ecstatic fits over Star Trek- TNG and William Sleator, and then we'd go downstairs to the kitchen and-- you know-- sort of check on them. Despite her nerdiness, my friend was a farm girl-- but unlike my dad’s cousin, her parents had always had the good sense to leave the livestock's ablated maleness outside where it belonged. I don't remember the fridge-testicles ever going bad. I don’t remember them having a smell of any kind. My friend always used to dare me to put one in the microwave. I never would. It wasn't that I was sicked out by the idea per se . I was actually sort of a gross-out queen as a young’un. It was more that I didn't want to do anything that might disrupt the Igloo cooler's apparent, miraculous ability to shield its contents from adult awareness and memory. To eleven-year-old me, it seemed obvious that the satisfying splat of a calf 'nad exploded in the family HotPoint could, in seconds, lead to a stern dinner of calf ‘nad stew, with no one allowed to leave the table before swallowing every last fiber of boiled ball-meat. I didn’t dare chance it.
The 'nads weren't in the fridge anymore when fall came. Again, I don't remember them being cooked, and I don't remember them being thrown out. Like summer songbirds, one day they were just gone. The air was crisp and dry. I had new notebooks (that I'd fill with embarrassing odes to a certain oblivious Mormon farm boy) new pens (that I'd lose), and new blouses (that the other kids would hate me for-- I guess they looked "too rich.") I also had a fresh new lesson, taken firmly to heart: If you were truly determined, sometimes sheer, unwavering avoidance really could make unpleasant things go away.
posted by palmcorder_yajna at 12:05 PM on March 19, 2009 [8 favorites]
When I was about eleven years old, my parents and I moved from Denver (where they'd both been practicing law in the public sector) to my dad's brush-strewn ancestral homeland in the Southern part of the state. Our housewarming, such as it was, happened in the springtime. You can see where this is going. One of our guests was my dad’s first cousin Joe-- a bald, fleshy, stubbly man; a cattle-rancher; rich on paper; with a hypochondriac wife, a double-wide trailer, and a bitterness that clung to his clothes along with the smell of his cigarettes. He showed up carrying a small red Igloo cooler—the kind once used to carry organs for transplant. In it was our share of the season's bounty: pink and fatty-looking, webbed with blood, chilling on shaved ice.
My dad made a big show of accepting the gifted testicles and he made sure I got a good, long look at them. Then, while gushing to my mom how awesome they were going to be when he sauteed in olive oil with a couple of peppers, he stowed them in the fridge. He had to move one of the shelves so the cooler would fit.
That's the part of my memory that's pretty reliable, I think. Then there's this part:
I remember summer coming, and I remember the balls still being there, languishing in that cooler. By then, the ice had melted, and you could see they still had a bit of skin-sheathed vas deferens on them. In memory, they look like swollen meat-tadpoles, or like fat, bologna-colored sperm. I didn't want to ask my dad if he was really going to cook them because it seemed like maybe he’d forgotten them, and I didn’t want him to un-forget.
Over the summer, I got lucky and made friends with the only other female nerd in the county. (I am not making this up. There were two of us. Two.) She'd come over, we'd have ecstatic fits over Star Trek- TNG and William Sleator, and then we'd go downstairs to the kitchen and-- you know-- sort of check on them. Despite her nerdiness, my friend was a farm girl-- but unlike my dad’s cousin, her parents had always had the good sense to leave the livestock's ablated maleness outside where it belonged. I don't remember the fridge-testicles ever going bad. I don’t remember them having a smell of any kind. My friend always used to dare me to put one in the microwave. I never would. It wasn't that I was sicked out by the idea per se . I was actually sort of a gross-out queen as a young’un. It was more that I didn't want to do anything that might disrupt the Igloo cooler's apparent, miraculous ability to shield its contents from adult awareness and memory. To eleven-year-old me, it seemed obvious that the satisfying splat of a calf 'nad exploded in the family HotPoint could, in seconds, lead to a stern dinner of calf ‘nad stew, with no one allowed to leave the table before swallowing every last fiber of boiled ball-meat. I didn’t dare chance it.
The 'nads weren't in the fridge anymore when fall came. Again, I don't remember them being cooked, and I don't remember them being thrown out. Like summer songbirds, one day they were just gone. The air was crisp and dry. I had new notebooks (that I'd fill with embarrassing odes to a certain oblivious Mormon farm boy) new pens (that I'd lose), and new blouses (that the other kids would hate me for-- I guess they looked "too rich.") I also had a fresh new lesson, taken firmly to heart: If you were truly determined, sometimes sheer, unwavering avoidance really could make unpleasant things go away.
posted by palmcorder_yajna at 12:05 PM on March 19, 2009 [8 favorites]
they look like swollen meat-tadpoles
Yep, pretty much.
My family raises cattle and I was taught at the age of twelve how to castrate calves. Every May we’d drive the cattle on horseback from their winter pasture to the summer grazing land. Once there we’d round up all new calves for branding and cutting. So sitting around a campfire eating testicles with green pepper and onions seemed perfectly normal to me.
Our last cattle drive was in ’94. After my grandfather died everything was scaled back and we mostly just sell the calves in the spring, keeping a few for personal consumption.
posted by Tenuki at 12:36 PM on March 19, 2009
Yep, pretty much.
My family raises cattle and I was taught at the age of twelve how to castrate calves. Every May we’d drive the cattle on horseback from their winter pasture to the summer grazing land. Once there we’d round up all new calves for branding and cutting. So sitting around a campfire eating testicles with green pepper and onions seemed perfectly normal to me.
Our last cattle drive was in ’94. After my grandfather died everything was scaled back and we mostly just sell the calves in the spring, keeping a few for personal consumption.
posted by Tenuki at 12:36 PM on March 19, 2009
Neither could I. My own nutsack still hasn't unclenched from viewing one of those links.
posted by Lipstick Thespian at 2:28 PM on March 19, 2009
posted by Lipstick Thespian at 2:28 PM on March 19, 2009
explosion: "Are you being contrary, or do you honestly not see why it's gross?"
Oh, no, I promise I'm not being contrary. I'm now a vegetarian but grew up eating chicken livers (deep fried), turkey necks and chicken gizzards (in soup), beef liver, tongue, other intestines and organs of various types grilled, fish eyes, chicken feet, etc. The list goes on, and I'm not even particularly ethnic. I never had the chance to try testicles, but I'm certain I would have without hesitation. To me, meat is meat is meat, and the reaction from some people regarding some types of meat vs. others is fascinating.
posted by TheNewWazoo at 2:45 PM on March 19, 2009
Oh, no, I promise I'm not being contrary. I'm now a vegetarian but grew up eating chicken livers (deep fried), turkey necks and chicken gizzards (in soup), beef liver, tongue, other intestines and organs of various types grilled, fish eyes, chicken feet, etc. The list goes on, and I'm not even particularly ethnic. I never had the chance to try testicles, but I'm certain I would have without hesitation. To me, meat is meat is meat, and the reaction from some people regarding some types of meat vs. others is fascinating.
posted by TheNewWazoo at 2:45 PM on March 19, 2009
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posted by ArgentCorvid at 6:07 AM on March 19, 2009 [1 favorite]