I’m not quite sure I’m up for this task anymore. This past weekend, after a trip to Kitakata to celebrate the lovely Ms. Tiffany’s birthday, I made a quick stop at a yakiniku restaurant for dinner and found that, lo and behold, they served some types of horumon!
Now, while they didn’t have any womb, lung, or sinew for sale (darn!), they did have one of my longest gastrointestinal arch-nemeses (no pun intended):
As I said before in my past article, I’ve tried animal innards before and found them to be, well, less than pleasant. However, in my mind, since coming to Japan I have become a changed man! One whose palette has matured far beyond that of the average foreign person.
So we ordered a plate of “chewy” intestine, threw it on the grill, and…
…it was terrible.
Okay, it wasn’t terrible, but I wasn’t enjoying it nearly as much as my Japanese companion was. There’s just something about intestines that make it as foreign to my tongue as we are to, well, Fukushima-ken in general. While I was more afraid of the texture at first, it was the underlying sour taste that got to me.
So after one piece, like a sissy little girl, I threw in the towel and proceeded to eat the non-fatty, non-offal, foreigner-friendly “karubi” and “rosu,” like the hypocrite I am.
That being said, while I may be demoralized, I haven’t given up on you, the supportive reading public! So within the next week or so, I definitely will keep my promise and go to real, traditional horumon restaurant.
Keep me in your prayers…