Then again, I know someone here whose ex came from a very, very, very, very, very poor family out in the province (and here, poor means.. reallllllly poor).. and when they were kids they sometimes ate…. are you ready…. cats and dogs! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

One older porteno I know, upon hearing that I like to make ravioli by hand, said, “oh, what do you put inside the ravioli? My mother used to make them when I was young, and she put brain in them.” AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

The food here is great but Argentines really like their weird animal parts. I can’t bring myself to eat kidneys (weird texture) and blood sausage.

Tina’s last blog post..On a Mediterranean kick…

I’d have to turn down the brain ravioli, I’m afraid, but cats? Yeah I’ve also heard tales of cat-eating around here in the lean post-war times

Jessica, Italy Logue’s last blog post..Italy Photo of the Week: Quiet Canal (or Not)

Jessica, believe me, I definitely cover my eyes at certain parts and I have a pretty strong stomach!

I used to hate some of the traditional dishes back home – tripe and trotters foremost – mostly for its appearance and how it smells when cooking… Otherwise I guess people would frown at other stuff that is eaten in SA such as fried or curried fish roe, smiley (boiled sheeps head), etc.

Robert’s last blog post..Dare I Say It?

Oh yeah, boiled sheep’s head is definitely not making it on my dinner table any time soon. I also have an issue with smells…they can be *really* hard for me to get past….

cheeky’s last blog post..words that resonate

So true Cheeky; all a function of how our palates develop and then with how much we are willing to stray from that. I think you’d like Andrew’s show…it’s not just about the grossness of the food at all. He really gets into the cultures and the traditions of eating these things, how they’re prepared–he’s often in the kitchens with the elderly women getting the real deal

smtwngrl’s last blog post..BlogHers Act Donation Challenge Results

Awesome! Excellent work

I feel bad for the little dormouse tucked into her tomato sauce. I couldn’t eat her, or at least I hope to never find myself in such desperate circumstances that I would.

No I am not bold at the table.

Funny conversation you shared

Bob and I are pretty much the same, or rather the same sorts of things. The only thing I eat that I wish he was willing to try and eat, is Indian food, and I don’t mean anything unusual, I mean stuff like chicken korma and pav bhaji

We do get a lot of American programs here, yes; we don’t get them simultaneously, but some come faster than others–the new season of Lost, for example, came just a few weeks after it debuted in America.

P wouldn’t be big on Indian/Asian food at all. Except for the insects, I guess. Ew.

Erin’s last blog post..Heartwarming

Not better, Erin, just a bit more crazy

You know, a lot of people would read what I wrote and think, “Oh you’d change your tune in a hurry if you were starving.” Truth is, I have starved. I once went two whole weeks without any food at all in an apartment crawling with mice and cockroaches. I know people who, in similar circumstances, would have killed the mice and cockroaches — the mice, anyway — and eaten them, but that ain’t me. I can now say for sure that that ain’t me.

But yes, Calabrian food culture is totally different from American food culture. Hence the pigs’ feet pickled in jelly. (tripple-gross-out-yuck-a-pookie; agreed) And of course you can get those here, too, but most people who wanted them here would go to a store and buy them in a jar, not raise the pig themselves, slaughter it, and then prepare every ounce to either eat themselves (or share with family and friends) or sell at their own shop or market stall. Really not the same.

And then on a totally different branch of this tree there’s P, Mr. Bizarre-Food-Makes-Me-Hungry, who, as you’ve told us, won’t eat strawberries — and neither will his mother. So.

As the French say, à chaqu’un son goût.

I hear you Sara. I’ve never been in the position of having to choose between cockroaches or nothing (knock on wood), but I *really* think I’d be starving there with you. No I can’t say for sure, of course, but that’s just what I feel.

I almost forgot about the strawberries. Thanks for reminding me