Food is a popular topic of conversation at my workplace. We have an even mix of ectomorphs (slim folks) and mesomorphs (solid, muscular people), vegetarians and carnivores, health nuts and gourmands. The most passionate and heated debate usually surrounds the question of “where do you draw the line” with things you’ll put into your mouth. Raw vs. cooked. Domesticated vs. wild. Local vs. imported. Kosher vs. cheeseburger. Cows vs. dogs.
A few months ago, I went to a restaurant on Dundas ominously named “The Black Hoof“, where I ate bone marrow (did not like – gelatinous, flavourless, icky) and raw horse (was okay, not something I’d eat every day). I texted a colleague and her response was “OMG RAW HORSE??!?! WHY?”.
Curiosity is the simple answer. I’m an adventurous gal, and I often like to say that, within reason, I’ll try anything once. I’ve got a pretty relaxed attitude towards what is edible, so usually when we’re talking about eating dog-meat (in the context of visiting a country where dog is part of the cuisine, NOT in the context of me coaxing Fido into my personal abbatoir so I can enjoy dog burgers on a Saturday night in Toronto – let’s be real) I’m the one nodding while others are gagging.
However, I have recently run into two experiences that are taking my “try anything once” attitude to the wall.
1) Dessicated Ox Bile
2) Entomophagy (Eating Bugs)
Dessicated what now?
So, the dessicated ox bile is a component of the evening digestive pills that form part of the “Innocleanse” 7-day cleanse that I thought I’d try out this week as a sort of personal challenge. There are the usual regimen of enzymes, purgatives and thermogenic (temperature-raising) ingredients in these pills – alfalfa leaves, sennosides, papain, cayenne pepper) but let me stress that this is emphatically not the crazy Beyonce cleanse where all you drink is spicy maple syrup lemonade. The list of foods you can eat is restricted, but you still have to eat.
The “NO” foods for this cleanse include wheat grains, fruit, caffeine, milk, carrots, tomatoes, pork, shellfish, yeast, oats, barley, potatoes, vinegar, sugar and margarine.
At first, looking at that list, all I could think of was celery sticks. But as it happens, if you’re willing to shell out about $150 in groceries at Whole Foods, you can eat a lot of things that are included in the “YES” food category, namely: yeast-free sprouted grain breads, lemons, limes, fresh cranberries, unsweetened almond butter, organic plain yoghurt, butter, eggs, herbal tea, sunflower seeds, vegetables, hummus, tzatziki, olive oil, garlic, onion, lean beef, chicken, turkey, all fish, beans, yeast-free grains (millet, quinoa, spelt, amaranth, brown rice, kamut, teff, buckwheat), unsweetened soy milk, rice milk, almond milk, and tofu.
We’ll see if I can last out the whole 7 days. Yesterday was day one and I had a screaming, eyeball-splitting headache all night from caffeine withdrawal. This morning my head is still hurting, but not as badly, but my upper arms feel like someone administered a series of clumsily-injected flu shots into them. Achey and heavy and sore. Apparently the first three days are the worst. I’ll keep everyone posted.
So, what was that about eating bugs?
There’s a surreptitous supper club in Toronto called “Charlie’s Burgers“. The idea is, you go to their website, fill out a survey about your food fantasies and they may (or may not) invite you to dinner. The mandate of this mysterious enterprise is to give great chefs “a blank canvas to create whatever menu they want, with no boundaries whatsoever.”
This month, they’re really pushing those non-existent boundaries by offering up an extravagant 9-course meal made up of… insects. Yes, for just $155, guest chefs Matt Binkley & Jeff Stewart will tantalize your tastebuds with tarantulas. Okay, not really (there are no spiders on the menu), but they WILL serve you crickets, grasshoppers, forest nymphs, scorpions, queen ants, water beetle, rhinoceros beetle, wax worms, meal worms, super worms and butter worms. See the complete menu if you dare! (or, if you want to know which wine goes with scorpions)
I have to make up my mind if I’m bold enough to eat these things before the dinner happens on Jan 24. If I’m honest with myself, I think I already know the answer. As an old-school nerd, the moment I think of eating worms, the image that springs to mind is of Riker staring down the parasite-infected Starfleet Admirals in episode #25 of ST:TNG, “Conspiracy”.
The valuable life lesson that episode taught me? If you eat bugs, your head may asplode.
Tags: beyonce, bugs, challenge, cleanse, eating, entomophagy, food, head asplode, ox bile, Star Trek
Posted by admin on Aug 14, 2003 in
Wishful Thinking When I take on a friend, it’s not something I do lightly: I’m in it for the long haul. That is why I chose to be absurdly unpopular and generally hated right up until about grade six (and then just mostly hated until grade twelve). It allowed me to be more selective later in life without starting friendships I would only abort later. It had nothing whatsoever to do with my regular attendance at band and choir rehearsals, and my magnetic attraction to books about dragons and unicorns. Star Trek conventions were definitely NOT a factor.
In 1988 I finally decided it was time to try and mix with my fellow humans in a manner that did not involve having sand thrown at my eyes or being tied to a tetherball pole. I initiated a rigorous search for a best friend, which ended with me meeting a girl named Christie with an unfortunate perm, a passionate love of yoghurt and iced tea, and a smokin’ hot intellect. The bonds of friendship were cemented, and from those humble beginnings, I’ve gone on to make friends with nearly six other people. Mother continues to be proud.
Eighty-eight was also the year I met Paul. Paul is the kind of guy who would have elective surgery to remove one of his kidneys so it could be transplanted into a sick puppy, only later realizing that his kidney is a human kidney and therefore completely useless to the dog. He’s just that giving. Half-Egyptian, half-Scottish, all fun, he’s a God-fearing man with a heart of gold. In our 15 years together, I have seen him conquer braces and fail to conquer girls, after which I published his angsty teen love poetry in my pretentious teen zine. Taking a flying swing at being cool, I once bleached the living daylights out of his hair and attached safety pins to his Docs and kilt. And after the hunt for cool had been abandoned, I helped pay for the police-uniformed stripper who cuffed him to a chair in the cafeteria at my residence and made him blow out lit matches on her nipples for his nineteenth birthday. We’ve bowled together, acted on stage together, engaged in ill-advised bouts of musical performance together, and I once made him a sock puppet girl for Valentine’s Day when we were both going through a rough patch with dating. Rising above all this, he lives his life with a dignified, quiet Paulitude, and I love him for it.
(Tragically, Paul’s eyelids have been closed ever since his older brother, Chris, crazy glued them shut as an April Fool’s Day prank in 1989)
(As my “good luck in school” gift, I throttled Paul until the pain of asphyxiation caused his eyes to pop open once again. He’ll thank me later.)
After many years of gambolling around, taking a lot of naps, submitting supremely late papers, and eking out a living designing websites, Paul has finally made a career choice. There was a dead heat between staying on as drummer for his band, ‘The Gardens Faithful’ and entering law school. The heat broke, and the call of evil won. ‘Twill be law. I went to see him off early this week at his goodbye and good riddance bash at Hernando’s Hideaway, only to have further close encounters of the high school kind.
Flame-haired Chrissy, a talented photographer with a keen eye for bad men, was in attendance. Infamous for once setting me up on the most disastrous blind date known to mankind, highlights of which involved Leonard Cohen, a mullet, glow-in-the-dark mini-golf, and an underage drinker marinating in red wine slumped over the backseat. She remains giggly and unrepentant about the whole ordeal, but since she’s become published and important, I guess I’ll forgive her.
Brave-hearted Sara, my co-champion in the Moose Scavenger Hunt debacle of 2001, saw Paul off as well. Having just returned from a seven day hike through the northern wilderness with her boyfriend, she looked a little bewildered at being back among the noise and lights of civilization. During an inspired, totally random photo shoot one lazy Sunday afternoon, I managed to talk her into changing out of my pleather corset dress into a wedding gown while standing at the intersection of Yonge and Bloor. I also persuaded the third, insane member of our photo shoot into wearing nothing but a big diaper, sucking his thumb and crying while lying in the foetal position on the steps of Toronto General Hospital, but if I DAre reVEal hiS idEntity, ceRtainly PAin will ensue.
A greasy Mexican good time was had by all, but I am deeply saddened by Paul’s imminent departure to London. After all that work finding them in the first place, I hate to see my circle of Toronto friends dwindle even by one. In support of Paul’s move to a more lucrative and soulless path in life, and in memory of our brief mutual flirtation with punk, I will chop my hair off and dye the spiky remains black on his leaving date, next Thursday.
Tags: friends, hair, lawyers, Mexican food, Paul, Star Trek
