Friends don’t get jealous when other friends get hit on, I reminded myself.
“Lots of folks like the frog legs, too,” she added.
Frog legs?
“Frog legs?” I heard Mindy echo beneath her breath from her spot beside me, sounding just as horrified as I felt.
“It’s a local favorite,” the waitress threw in, like that would make it sound more appetizing, with a bright smile aimed at the younger girl.
“I’ll take the chicken and waffles,” Des basically muttered with Brittany echoing that order, followed by me. Mindy and Aaron chose something with a sandwich.
“I’ll take an order of frog legs,” Max piped up, grinning.
“Oh, gross, Max,” Mindy muttered.
“What?” He shrugged as he handed over the menu to the waitress with a wink before she backed away.
“That’s disgusting.”
“I’m sure it’ll taste like chicken. Everything tastes like chicken.”
Even Brittany shook her head with an “Ugh.”
Max’s eyes met mine and I smiled at him shyly. “Everything does taste like chicken. I had gator once, tastes just like it.”
Mindy turned in her chair to look at me. “You’ve had alligator?”
I nodded. “I had sheep’s head once.”
“You what?”
“In Iceland. Our tour guide didn’t tell me what it was and I tried it. I’d never eat it again, but it wasn’t the worst thing I’d ever had,” I explained.
Mindy was looking at me with a horrified expression on her face, her fingers picking at the napkin she had rolled up. “What was the worst?” she asked hesitantly, like she didn’t really want to know the answer but couldn’t help herself.
Fidgeting with my hands on my lap, I smiled and looked over at Aaron who was watching me. “I’ve had cow tongue a few times. That was good actually—”
“Cow tongue?” that was Brittany.
“Yeah. They sell it all over the place in Houston. I’ve had dinuguan—”
“What’s that?” Max asked.
I scrunched up my nose, remembering eating that way too clearly. “It’s a Filipino dish that my dad made me try. Its pig intestines, kidneys, lungs, heart, and the snout cooked in its blood—”
At least four of them said a variation of “eww” that made me grin.
“I know. My dad claimed it was dessert, like pudding. He loves it. I can’t eat pudding anymore because of that, no matter what color it is.”
“I’m not going to be able to eat pudding anymore after that….” Mindy trailed off.
“That’s not the worst,” I started to say before I shut my mouth. “Never mind. I’m just going to stop now. I don’t want to ruin anyone’s food.”
“There’s something more gross than that?” Brittany asked.
I lifted my shoulders, not wanting to say more.
“Now you need to tell us,” she insisted.
“We can handle it,” Max kept going.
“No, seriously, you don’t want me to tell you,” I tried to explain.
“Come on, Rubes,” Aaron chimed in, making me glance at him.
“I’ll just close my ears,” Mindy offered. “I don’t want to know.”
I watched them and asked, slowly, “Are you sure?”
Four nods around the table confirmed they were sure. Even Mindy raised her hands to the side of her head, middle fingers already going to her ears to plug them in.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, okay?” I reminded them. They all looked so confident… it almost made me laugh. “I’ve never tried it, but my dad has a bunch of times—”
“What is it?” Max asked.
“It’s called balut. I’ve watched him eat it and I didn’t gag, and I’m pretty proud of myself for it—”
“What is it?”
“Jesus, Max, give her a second,” Aaron chimed in, his big hands resting on the table.
I squeezed my fingers between my thighs and just got it over with. “It’s a duck embryo in its shell.”
Four sets of eyeballs blinked. But it was Des that slowly asked, “Excuse me?”
“It’s a—”
“No, no, I heard you.” He cut me off, still taking his time with his words. He blinked, lowered his voice, and squinted his eyes. “How?”
“How what?”
“How do you…?” he stammered.
I knew what he was trying to ask and I cringed, regretting bringing this up. “The baby duck is boiled… alive.”
Four different people made dry-heaving and gagging sounds.
“And they eat that?” I’m pretty positive that was Brittany.
I nodded.
“I’m sweating thinking about it,” Brittany definitely whispered, visibly letting out a shudder.
“I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything,” I apologized.
Des’s face was definitely a little green. “You’ve eaten it?”
“She said she hasn’t,” Aaron said. “Your dad did, right?”
I nodded. “Nothing grosses him out food wise. I try to be as brave as he is, but I can’t.”