Item the First:
I have grave concern about BK biting the bullet – sounds extremely dangerous; obviously our esteemed BK has not graduated from an Eddie Eagle course.
Item the Second:
Chicken!
The most interesting chicken dish I ever had was after I spent the afternoon shooting the rapids at Pagsanjan Falls in the Philippines. Getting to dinner was half the fun. I was on a weekend tour filled with fellow sailors. Before the tour got underway, the guide suggested we bring no watches or jewelry and to put most of our folding currency in our sock – seems as how roving bandits often holds up the bus. On this encouraging note, we set off for the hinterlands south of Manila. One hint that you are getting “away from it all” is when you notice that there is no longer and electric wires running beside the highway (read dirt track). Another sight not common in California is the sight of Water Buffalo slogging thru the mucky fields with a local following behind with a curiously shaped wooden thingy (calling a “plow” would give it a dignity it did not deserve – (the wooden thingy, not the local). We made a brief noon stop at a village, which prided itself on its woodcarvings. We were given a fascinating tour of the local factory.
OSHA ALERT! Dangerous work practices ahead!
The factory was dark and gloomy (probably due to the lack of electricity) and when your eyes adjusted to the gloom, you could see the native workers sitting barefoot on the floor while they hacked away at a log of mahogany clutched between their naked feet (somehow “clutching” seems a strange verb to use when referring to feet, but, whatever). And to my great wonderment, before we left, we were given an opportunity to make a purchase (the selections ranged from Madonnas (The Blessed Mother, not the Material Girl), through elaborate crucifixes (prop material for Exorcist or Omen), to small statues with enormous endowment, the term “tumescent” comes to mind, (prop material for the Devil in Miss Jones).
The rickety old bus then commenced a lengthy mountain climb to our destination (The Inn of the Unflushables) just in time for the afternoon festivities.
PETA ALERT! Disgusting animal abuse ahead.
For our delight we were treated to a series of cock fights (razor equipped bandy roosters in a dirt pit, not naked randy gay men in bath house).
For the evening banquet we were served not-still-living chicken. It was a Philippine version of baked road kill with roasted veggies. (This bird was so malnourished it made a free-range chicken look like a butterball turkey – think large, scrawny pigeon.) There was little meat on the foul fowl, so one resorted to stripping the bones with ones teeth (whilst singing “Henry the Eighth I Am”). Actually the meat was quite flavorful, if not adequately portioned. Inasmuch as two of my dinner companions were still concerned about the fate of the afternoon contestants, I had a chance to strip two more of god’s creatures to get my fill.
The next day was a glorious trip in a canoe, shooting the rapids through a primeval jungle gorge with cascades of orchids lining the walls. See
here for details.
Since this is a chicken story, I’ll end my tale at this point. (The next day’s culinary extravaganza was a pit-roasted boar.)
Ever-adventurous der Brucer
