The other day, Kara showed up with what looked like a large tree root - knobby and narled, six inches in diameter, and at least a foot long. She explained that it was a Chinese Yam, and this morning it was breakfast.
She started the yam boiling, which is how she prepares most of her food, and sampled a little piece. It was extremely bitter.
She came to me in a panic, because this was her whole breakfast, and it was terrible. Is that how it was supposed to taste? I couldn't answer her.
By the time I took a taste, the root had boiled for a few minutes, and it really wasn't all that bad. She tasted a piece that had been cooked, and gave a great sigh of relief. It now tasted more like a potato.
I tried to look up nutrition information, but most listings just described Chinese Yam as an Exotic Pest Plant. Lovely.
While we're on the subject of exotic foods, I ought to tell you that last night I had the "pleasure" of helping prepare a couple of squab. This is the fancy-pants culinary term for pigeon.
Now, of all my least favorite tasks in this world, picking the meat off of a poultry carcass ranks right up there with talking to telemarketers, and the smaller the bird, the less I like it.
So to try and make the job go easier, I sang a little song and did a little dance. It looked something like this.
In case you are curious, squab tastes (are you ready for this?) kind of like chicken.