When I lived in Thailand I tried to live like the locals. Only problem was that the locals ate everything. So I tried too. I succeeded for most part. Granted, I enjoyed none of it, but I came home with a cocky swagger.'Oh yeah, chicken feet, blood squares, pigeon, grass-hopper, beetle, scorpion and worms. Ate 'em all,' I would boast. With this new found confidence/arrogance I was ready to take on the world. Wallabie and kangaroo, crocodile and goat, whatever, I ate it all.
But I've been beaten and beaten bad.
On the streets of Saigon my stomach finally said 
no. Duck egg. But it's not egg. It's embryo, foetus, fertilised, whatever you want to call it. Disgusting is what I call it. I went for dinner with a Vietnamese friend on the streets of Ho Chi Minh City. A little portable stall was being pushed around by a lady and I was intrigued to see what she was selling. I'd heard of these eggs before and they had never appealed to me. But my pride interfered and I felt I would be a coward if I didn't at least try one.
I thought it would be peeled and bitten into whole like a boiled egg. This wasn't to be the case. My friend cracked open the top and told me I should drink the dark, bloody juice from it. I said no and she poured it on the street. Then she added some spices and fresh lime (see picture) as if that was going to help. She gave me a spoon and wished me good luck.
To be honest the taste was really nice. It was more the knowledge that I was eating a fully developed chick from head to toe that turned my belly queezy. And it also seemed cruel. But I wasn't giving up.
no. Duck egg. But it's not egg. It's embryo, foetus, fertilised, whatever you want to call it. Disgusting is what I call it. I went for dinner with a Vietnamese friend on the streets of Ho Chi Minh City. A little portable stall was being pushed around by a lady and I was intrigued to see what she was selling. I'd heard of these eggs before and they had never appealed to me. But my pride interfered and I felt I would be a coward if I didn't at least try one.I thought it would be peeled and bitten into whole like a boiled egg. This wasn't to be the case. My friend cracked open the top and told me I should drink the dark, bloody juice from it. I said no and she poured it on the street. Then she added some spices and fresh lime (see picture) as if that was going to help. She gave me a spoon and wished me good luck.
To be honest the taste was really nice. It was more the knowledge that I was eating a fully developed chick from head to toe that turned my belly queezy. And it also seemed cruel. But I wasn't giving up.
Two or three spoonfulls down the hatch. Then I started noticing differences in the texture. Is that wing? Head? Surely that was a foot I just chewed on. The I started looking inside the egg. God! I won't even describe it, but the unusual colours alone nearly made me barf. I managed another three or four pathetically small bites before giving up. With nearly half the chick still in the egg I thanked the lady and staggered away trying to at least be man enough to not puke iin the street.----------------------------
Note-please don't try this at home or anywhere else.
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