My husband has a long history of eating virtually anything: squirrel, frog, snake, prickly pear cactus, you name it. My children never tire of his weird food stories. Once, in college his roommates found a can of horse meat left over from world war one in the basement of the house they rented. Tim ate it for $50.
During his time in the army special forces my husband ate a wide array of truly gross things. On survival training he ate skunk road kill. Not fresh skunk; skunk he found already dead on the side of the road.
He remembers fondly dining on earthworm bacon, which apparently is worms you grill on a hub cap over an open fire. Somehow when you are alone in the middle of the woods it is easier to find a spare hub cap on which to grill worms than a black berry bush or some dandelion greens.
Tim often travels overseas for his job and always returns home with a story of odd meals. He has eaten every single part of a pig, various critter tails, and countless unheard of sea creatures.
This week when he returned from China, the kids asked him what he ate while he was gone.
“I had duck feet for dinner one night,” he said.
My teenagers shrugged. Duck feet simply can’t compete with ancient horse meat and road-kill skunk.