Excerpt from the Florence Chapters

Hey everyone,

Below is a little excerpt from a section from the Florence Chapters. I hope you enjoy it!

"Since we had some free time one night in the coming week, we decided to take the local American University study abroad campus, Gonzaga University to be specific, up on their offer for a barbeque for dinner. The invitation promised hamburgers and hot dogs, some little slices of America my friends were craving. Personally, I was not quite ready to eat American again, but I acquiesced to their request and sent an RSVP. As the days to the barbeque slipped away I could not justify to myself allowing a meal to pass that was not something that I could not easily find in the United States. I did not travel this far just to eat McDonalds, so why would I have the quintessentially American barbeque?

It took a lot of mental fortitude, but I was able to come up with a solution. Just the thought made me smile. There was definitely something I could find here that would be pretty foreign to most Americans but at the same time would work great on the grill. But it would require a visit to the San Lorenzo Market once again. What a tragedy, right?

When we arrived at the barbeque I had in my hand a nondescript white plastic bag, the contents of which were hidden. As much as people wanted to know what was in it, I was not about to tell until I had the grill to myself. My friends partook in the promised fare of hot dogs and hamburgers. Suzi, being herself of course, had a veggie burger. I had a bite of it. It was pretty good, for not having any animal in it. It was salty and obviously made mostly of grain. Filling, it served its purpose: providing nutrition. When everyone had cooked everything they wanted to eat, it was my turn to unveil my dinner.

That morning I made a visit to the San Lorenzo Market to purchase something I had noticed there the past week. I know they are available in some areas of the United States during some parts of the year, but for most of the population of our dear nation, it is a foreign part of the cow, or rather bull, that should never be eaten. That’s right, I am talking about the testicles.

Rocky mountain oysters, balls, testicles, call them what you want, but I just call them delicious. Though they have a peculiar odor when raw and are incredibly odd to the touch (I use the word odd in reverence of the animal it came from, though most would call it disgusting), when cooked just righty they firm up nicely and have a wonderful subtle taste. I chose a light coating of olive oil, salt, oregano, garlic powder, chili powder, and freshly ground black pepper.

As the testicles sizzled over the fire I received plenty of strange looks from the American students. Many of them did not believe me when I told them what it was that I was cooking. Why would they? It is one of those foreign flavors that just confuses Americans. Why would you eat the testicle when there are so many other delicious parts of the bovine that are not gross to think about? The answer, at least for me and for many other cultures around the world, is that though it may sometimes be gross at first, when food is expensive or scarce you make use everything. That means when it is time to slaughter a goat, a yak, a buffalo, or a cow you use everything. Wasting any of it meant that at some point in the future, you were going to be hungry because you did not save a part of the animal. Americans waste thousands of tons of food this way. They will not eat tongue or intestine or testicles because they are “gross.” There is so much to be learned from the people who make meals from what we would throw aside. What happened over the centuries was a clever crafting of delicious methods of eating every part of the animal. That is why people still eat tripe, or intestine, or heart. It is because for generations their families have passed down recipes that have become their soul food, their comfort. So by preparing this meal for myself in the humblest of ways I hope to relate to the ancient struggle and maybe have a taste of what it meant to honor the animal in its death by using every part of it instead of tossing it by the wayside.

After about fifteen minutes of sizzling and anticipation, I took the glorious testicles from the fire and laid them on a piece of bread that I toasted with olive oil, two slices of tomato, and one slice of mild cheese. The combination was more than delicious. I enjoyed the sandwich much more than I have ever enjoyed an American burger.

The testicles were definitely not a bold flavor. They were very subtle, very chewy, and had a taste that was sort of like a combination of shrimp and filet mignon. Personally, I thought the flavor was extraordinary. It was a meal I would happily serve anyone and would gladly make for myself again.

So mission accomplished. I did not have traditional American barbeque. I brought a twist."

Until next time,

~HS