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By Laura Daguerre
My one vow before coming to China was that I was going to find a way to consume dog before I left. Naturally, when the opportunity presented itself I leaped at it with open arms (or rather with an open mouth). My hosts for this glorious excursion were a local pastor and his wife as well as a pastor visiting from Taiwan. The day of the great event, my brothers and I were picked up in a nondescript dark van that drove us to the edge of Maoming, the village of 8 million where I was staying at the time, down dark alleyways, through broken-down neighborhoods and finally pulled up in front of a dark, foreboding warehouse. My younger brother Nicholas and I stared at each other from the backseat. We were certain that our organs were about to be ripped from our bodies and sold on the black market. "Nick," I whispered solemnly, "remember that the eyes are the groin of the head." He replied in an equally solemn and hushed tone "Yes, and the groin is the groin of the body." We shook hands and stumbled out of the van to meet fate head on with a little Krav Maga action. If our organs were to be taken from us, the death toll was going to be much higher than just us three siblings. To our utter relief and surprise, we were simply picking up a couple who owned the warehouse and switching vehicles to their van, which was much more comfortable and not one bit foreboding, or at least not when compared with the van from which we had just disembarked. We drove down many more dark alleys with torn-down buildings and finally ended up at a small outdoor restaurant in a little village outside of Maoming. I got out of the van and surveyed our surroundings: folding tables, plastic stools and a long table with butchers chopping up huge chunks of meat. My stomach gave a little flip-flop. Maybe eating dog was going to be harder than I originally thought. We sat down. My stomach stayed queasy during the bringing of the hotpot, the throwing of the raw chunks of meat into the hotpot, the gas flame being turned on, the pot boiling... then it suddenly was blown away by the most amazing smell I have ever smelled in my entire life. It was the sweetest and yummiest stewing meat smell that compelled my stomach leap into immediate "ready-to-consume-any-and-all-food" status. The first taste was a simple bowl of dog broth, which tasted just as it smelled: amazing. The second taste was chunks of tender, juicy, sweet meat that is unlike anything I have ever tasted. If I had to compare it to something, I would say it had the consistency and texture of beef and the sweetness of pork but worlds better. During my fourth or fifth helping I found myself chewing on the heart of the dog. I felt bad for an instant, but that quickly passed as the flavor found my tongue. I realized that the dog was dead, the dog was yummy, and I was going to continue eating the dog. Nicholas suddenly leaned over, "Uhh, so I just ate the paw. It was tiny and delicate and probably belonged to the cutest dog ever. And by complete coincidence, the yummiest dog ever as well." My older brother Andrew said from across the table "You guys have nothing, I just ate the tongue." After my dog experience, I thought that there was no culinary delicacy that I could not top with the simple statement, "Well, while in China, I ate dog." That is until my friend told me that he ate goat penis in Indonesia. I quickly decided that I have not quite reached that level of eclectic eating yet.  |
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