When we’d go for Dim Sum when I was a kid, my thing was that we should stop off first to pick up some pork hum bao. I was skeptical of ‘authenticity’ in Chinatown. Come to think of it, I still am. Yikes, stasis! Oh no. I think I have to try the chicken feet now. Or the blood porridge. Or something I’m sure, at this point, I’m going to regret. Drat.
The first time I saw chicken feet on a plate in Penang I thought I was participating in some voodoo like ritual. It was mind boggling to me that they were there to eat. I'm not a picky eater, but eating collagen one molecule at a time from the bones of chicken feet is remarkably unrewarding.
The one redeeming pleasure in eating chicken feet is that it is acceptable to spit the tiny bones out on to your table or plate in public. This is so against Western table manners that it makes you feel like Che Gauvara...Larga vida a la libertad!
When we’d go for Dim Sum when I was a kid, my thing was that we should stop off first to pick up some pork hum bao. I was skeptical of ‘authenticity’ in Chinatown. Come to think of it, I still am. Yikes, stasis! Oh no. I think I have to try the chicken feet now. Or the blood porridge. Or something I’m sure, at this point, I’m going to regret. Drat.
The first time I saw chicken feet on a plate in Penang I thought I was participating in some voodoo like ritual. It was mind boggling to me that they were there to eat. I'm not a picky eater, but eating collagen one molecule at a time from the bones of chicken feet is remarkably unrewarding.
The one redeeming pleasure in eating chicken feet is that it is acceptable to spit the tiny bones out on to your table or plate in public. This is so against Western table manners that it makes you feel like Che Gauvara...Larga vida a la libertad!