Hallelujah!
This week I think I might just have finally found somewhere to supersede the much-vaunted Morrison’s ‘International Fruits & Vegetables Aisle’ – both in terms of choice and interestingness. Chinese Taste is an Oriental Superstore in Guildford that, according to the window stocks foods from China, the Philippines, Malaysia, Thailand, India and, bizarrely, Poland. Is Poland now an Asian enclave?
The shelves are packed with all the expected noodles, rices and spicy sauces (and, of course, ogórek konserwowys and filetys z makreli). It is, however, the refrigerators and freezers that reveal themselves to be potential goldmines for the type of person embarking on a year of foodal discovery and breaking culinary virginities (Yes, me!)… A quick poke around a freezer compartment revealed duck tongues, chicken feet (attached to the still fully-feathered bodies), pig maw (I think that’s stomachs) and chicken gizzards. Exciting and a little unsettling in equal measure.
I closed my eyes and plunged my hand back into the freezer (at the opposite end from the complete chickens – There was no way on earth I was touching one of them!) and let fate decide what my food first was to be this week. A chill shot down my spine, as I felt Ken Hom’s spirit take hold of me and helping to guide my wandering digits into the depths of the icy receptacle. Ooh-er!
I hesitantly closed my fingers around a packet…
… In my hand, I held a small, shrink-wrapped packet of chicken gizzards. A food that may just be what this food firsts thing was always supposed to be about. For fifty-two weeks, I had intended to shove camel testicles, monkey brains and writhing insects into my mouth. It would be fascinating for you, dear reader, and horizon-expanding (and perhaps a little vomit-inducing) for me. Unfortunately, I seem to have spent a lot of time eating fruit & vegetables and foods that were popular during the Second World War.
This week, I would be eating gizzards… But what the Hell’s Kitchen are gizzards?
Gizzards are organs found in the digestive tracts of a number of animals (including all birds, alligators & crocodiles and some fish). Food is passed into the gizzard and ground down (often with the help of previously eaten grit or stones) to aid digestion.
They are a key part of the bag of intestines, also known as giblets, which you often find inside a chicken or turkey. Giblet just happens to be one of my favourite words – along with bauble, wobble and globule.
In the film, TV and music world, gizzards are pretty much exclusively referred to in a threatening manner… ‘I’m going to cut your gizzard out’, seems quite a popular one. Eminem in his song ‘On Fire’, rather menacingly rapped ‘Grab the scissors and saws and cut out your livers, gizzards and balls’.
I’m sure that Eminem is a lovely chap, but I think he might need to speak to someone about his rage. Or just stay away from sharp implements.
The packet stated that its contents were ready to eat, but I wasn’t confident enough to just go ahead and shove the gizzards into my own gizzard. I felt compelled to, at the very least, blast them with some major heat in a wok – I just didn’t want to take the chance of contracting bird flu.
Dr Jones… After conducting the autopsy, we have found that this chicken died from having all its giblets forcibly removed by an angry rapper – possibly using a pair of scissors and a saw. Fo’ real homeslice!
After heating for a couple of minutes, the giblets kindly posed for some photos. I then worked my way through the pile of chicken entrails. I fully expected them to taste offal, but not as offal as my dismal attempts at humour. They were very chewy – a bit like when I try to cook steak medium-rare, but forget that it continues to cook even after removing it from the pan, resulting in something resembling very-well-done. Their consistency was very similar to liver or kidney. I expected them to be a bit gritty, but this was not the case.
I have to say, I thought gizzards were very tasty and will definitely be raiding a Chinese freezer at some point in the future (of course making sure I keep clear of the still feathered chickens).
If anyone fancies coming round to mine for Christmas dinner, I’m going to stir-fry the turkey giblets. There’ll be plenty for everyone! And after eating, maybe we can watch an Eddie Gizzard DVD (and read out some cracker jokes to raise the humour levels).
Note: As Ken Hom is evidently still alive, I am not sure whose spirit took hold of me in the Oriental Supermarket. Any suggestions would be appreciated…
Fifty-Two Weeks of Filling My Cheeks 