How to Train Your Dragon Fruit

This week’s food first is Dragon Fruit.

Dragon Fruit

Dragon fruit is the product of a cactus, originally native to Mexico, but is now grown in most places with a warm climate (i.e. anywhere but the UK).  Probably the most interesting dragon fruit cactus-related fact is that they flower only at night and are pollinated by moths and bats.  There is doubtlessly a scientific term for this phenomenon, but, sadly (as is the case with much of science), it eludes me.

Would you believe me if said I didn’t get my Dragon Fruit from Morrison’s, but grew it at home? Robot never lies!

Apparently, the fruit looks like a dragon – but, having never seen an actual dragon, I cannot confirm or deny if this is the case.  Sadly, the only dragons in history perished many years ago: St. George clobbered one with a long, pointy implement and Little Puff used his only life falling down a mine shaft or into a fire or something.  Whilst, Elliot – Pete’s Dragon from the imaginatively titled Pete’s Dragon – turned invisible, subsequently forgot how to re-visible himself and was never seen again.  All other dragons are fictitious.

The upshot of this is that we all just have to trust that it looks like a dragon.  That said, it’s probably not the significant leap of faith I’m making it out to be…

Dragon Fruit

As fruit rarely comes with instructions, I did a quick internet search to see what I needed to do with it. Could I eat it raw?  Would consuming the peel have a laxative effect?  Which is the top?  Which is the bottom?  You know, the basic important questions…  Seemingly, all I needed to do was chop it in half, spoon out the flesh and then eat it.  Simple.  I could not find a definitive answer anywhere as to the potential dangers of eating the peel, so I decided to go with a ‘No’ on that one.

I sliced the dragon fruit in half – with a knife, as my lance was in my other pants – revealing the watery white flesh flecked with hundreds of small, black seeds.  It had the look of an anaemic kiwi fruit.  I popped a spoonful of the stuff into my mouth…  Big flavours these were not – In fact, I’m not even sure if it had any flavour at all – Unless, bland is a flavour.

Sliced Dragon Fruit

I guess dragon fruit is a splendid example of why you should never judge a book by its cover.  Evolution* has seemingly put all its efforts into making the fruit look attractive, but lost interest by the time it got around to deciding what to do with the inner bits.  The result is an off-white, watery flesh, polka-dotted with scores of seeds.  There is very little flavour – perhaps a hint of melon, at best.

* This is, of course, if you believe in evolution (and then believe all evolution should be angled towards pleasing the taste buds of humanity).

Dragon Fruit – Blandiose!

Before you boycott dragon fruit for life solely on the strength of my comprehensive taste review, you might want to bear in mind that with the blandness comes a raft of nutritional benefits.  According to literature (if random crap found on those “16.5 surprising uses for X – you simply won’t believe number 7” blogs on the internet can be classed as literature), the fruit is high in vitamins (C, B1-3), minerals (iron, phosphorous, calcium) and fibre, whilst being low in calories, fat and cholesterol (the evil sort).  It is also high in anti-oxidants – which is great for all your anti-oxidanting needs like a youthfully-tight face skin.

The apparent sheer brilliance of dragon fruit has even caused one foody blogster to label it “so good it should be forbidden.”  Um…  Yes, that makes sense.  Thanks.

Using Dragon Fruit dice when playing Monopoly makes you unbeatable!

So, after a great deal of research, lab testing and prodding fruit with a fork, I bring you my very own: –

7 Uses for a Dragon Fruit – Number 4 will truly blow your mind…

1. Eat it.

2. Don’t eat it.

3. Carefully make various incisions and pretend you are conducting a dragon autopsy.

4. Chop into cubes and place in frying pan. Heat until golden brown, then add gelignite.  Kaboom!

5. Liquidize the flesh and make a drink. Drink the drink.

6. Er… Temporary door stop.

7. Yes, 7 uses.

Click here for 34 reasons you’ll end up married to a Smurf and here to discover which Brittas Empire character you are.

And so ends the inaugural visit to my food firsts adventure of 2015.  Was it worth it?

If you have any suggestions for more exciting things to shove in my face, please let me know – I clearly need some help!

See you next time I find a new exotic fruit…

A Return to My Old Chomping Grounds

Hello!  I’m back.

As a quick recap… 2013 was the year I attempted to eat a new food a week for fifty-two weeks and write wittily and insightfully about the experience.

In a nutshell, I failed.  I only ate twenty-eight virgin foodstuffs and I was probably only witty or insightful about three times.  If you wish to revisit any of my culinary ‘adventures’, feel free to have a click around somewhere to the left of here.

This way to my personal history of food firsts…

When I started the year, I had visions of eating an array of exciting things – like monkey brain and camel testicles – but pretty much ended up shoving a different exotic fruit into my mouth-hole every other week.

In my defence, have you ever tried to buy the contents of a simian noggin or dromedary gonad in your local Tesco?  They just never seem to have them in stock.

Time to dig out the old list?

To distract myself from the disappointment of my foodal failure, I spent the entirety of 2014 attempting to spot as many species of bird as possible – whilst trying (and failing) to report my progress in a witty and insightful manner (Are you noticing a theme?).  If you are intrigued as to what went on in my life last year, click here.

If I’m honest, I couldn’t think of a new challenge for 2015, so I will sporadically return here with news of new food ingestions in – yep, you’ve guessed it – an attempted witty and insightful manner.

Now where did I put that South-East Asian fruit?

I bet you can’t wait!

New Blog

Hello!

Thanks for reading my 2013 food challenge blog.  I’ve now moved on to a new challenge for 2014 – To see as many species of bird as possible in a year.  If you’d like to take a look, you can find it at

fiftytwoweeksofthingswithbeaks.wordpress.com

I can promise some terrible bird puns, some interesting facts and a smattering of photos…

Have a nice day!

Week Twenty-Eight – Chicken Gizzards

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…

Week Twenty-Seven – Quinoa

This week’s blog is brought to you in association with Wunderbar…  It truly is a bar of wunder!

Wunderbar – Not the sort of thing you want to confuse with a Wunderbra…

This week’s food first is quinoa.

The first thing I need to point out is that ‘quinoa’ is one of those words that has the potential to cause a great deal of embarrassment in social situations.  It is one of those dangerous little words that lurk in depths of the English language that isn’t pronounced how you think it should be.

You find yourself merrily chatting away about something interesting, perhaps the weather, and then you happen to mention you are trying to eat a new food a week for a whole year.  Taken aback with amazement, your conversational partner probes for you further details.  You attempt to elucidate, but then make the faux pas of mispronouncing the food you most recently ate…

Let’s imagine how this might pan out in script form: –

Quinoa – The Movie

It seems that we can draw three conclusions from this hypothetical situation:  One – I appear to want to be in Made in Chelsea.  Two – I clearly don’t get invited to parties.  Three – It is pretty much impossible to convey the pronunciation of words when you lack a basic knowledge of phonetics.

I guess I’ll just have to find another way to explain…

Apparently, quinoa phonetically is  /kɨˈnoʊ.ə/ – Yes, that would have been my first guess too!

It seems that the nice people at International Phonetic Alphabet HQ have an ingenious, yet complicated way of demonstrating how words should be said.  I must have missed the relevant English lesson at middle school when my parents recklessly squirreled me off to Centre Parks during term-time back in the late 80s.

It’s probably a bit tardy to start learning a new alphabet at this late stage in a blog entry, so maybe it would be better if I tried to convey how it should be said via the medium of ‘it sounds a bit like…’

Here goes…

Quinoa sounds a bit like: –

“Can you just check in my handbag for my key, Noah?”

Alternatively, I probably could have just suggested “keen-wah”

What do you all mean you all knew how to say it??

I couldn’t be keener to try some quinoa.

Anyway…

Quinoa is a pseudocereal, in that while not truly a cereal, it is used as such.  It is also classed as a superfood and is high in protein and gluten free.  It looks very similar to cous cous and can be used in a great variety of ways – breads, biscuits, soups, tortillas and a whole lot more.  It can also just be boiled and served as a standalone accompaniment to a meal…  This is the preparation option I decided to take.

It tasted something like brown rice with a hint of wholemeal pasta.  I know people always say it about a food someone hasn’t tried before, but mine tasted suspiciously like chicken.  This, possibly, may have had something to do with the fact that I boiled it in chicken stock rather than plain water.

If my quinoa adventure has piqued your interest, this year just happens to be the International Year of Quinoa.  Check out the website for a far better overview…  I think you may even be able to buy t-shirts made from the stuff – It’s that versatile!

 

Have a nice week… áj ǽm dʒə́st ɒ́f tú lə́rn fənɛ́tɪks and watch some episodes of Dr Quinoa, Medicine Woman.

 

 

Week Twenty-Six – Rambutan

This week’s entry is brought to you in association with Big Sheet – Available at a 7-Eleven store near you…  Well, nearby if you live in Bangkok.

For those times when only a big sheet will do!

Well, I am now halfway through my effort to eat fifty-two new foods, one a week throughout 2013.  I don’t have to look at a calendar to know that I am way behind schedule.  I do, however, have to look at a calendar to discover that I should now be eating my forty-third virgin foodstuff.

You could say that I have almost literally bitten off more than I can chew!  Or is that metaphorically?  Or pathetically?

Consequently, it looks like I’m going to have to extend this debacle into next year…  Sorry about that.

This week’s food first is Rambutan – Yet another acquisition from the Morrison’s “high carbon footprint international fruits and vegetables aisle” I so regularly frequent.  From an environmental point of view, I usually walk, so that must offset some of the contribution I’m making to the enlargement of the hole in the ozone layer – The hole in the ozone layer no-one seems to mention anymore.

It is an exotic fruit, originating from South-East Asia, but now found all over the world thanks to people like me trying to eat new foods on a weekly basis.  It has a dark red shell which is covered in soft spines.

Selamat Datang, hairy fruit!

The word rambutan comes from the Malay word for hairy.  It’s nice when things are named in a way that describes what they look like – Orange probably being the greatest example in the fruit world…  Blackbird being the best in the avian world (although, the female is brown, so that’s probably not especially helpful)…

Rambutans in their natural habitat…

A bit of research – there are a ridiculous number of how to eat rambutan videos on YouTube, so I’m clearly not much of a food pioneer – told me how I should go about eating the fruit.

Does it look like a lychee? An eyball? A pickled onion? Or a testicle? You decide… The answer you give may reveal a great deal about your maturity.

Apparently, I am supposed to cut the outer skin open and put the fruit inside in my mouth.  I then chew it, being careful not to choke to death on the stone in the centre and, when ready, swallow.

The internet is a truly wonderful place for building knowledge, isn’t it?

The fruit inside the outer skin had the look of an eyeball, but seeing as this is a grown-up blog of sense, I should probably compare it to a lychee.  Lychees look really like eyeballs!

It tasted incredibly sweet and grape-like, with a chewy texture somewhat reminiscent of pickled onion.

I did not choke to death on the stone – I hope that’s not too much of a disappointment for you!

Week Twenty-Five – Custard Apple

Miss Frodo the Hamstress – Obviously

Firstly, an apology.  Last week I introduced you all to my hamster, Frodo, and, in a rare insight into my inner emotional workings, I suggested how much I missed him.  He died a number of years ago, you see.  It took a lot of courage to lay my feelings bare and I hoped that this outpouring would bring a greater depth to my writing.  However, I have since been informed that Frodo was, in actual fact, a girl hamster.  This raises a couple of questions…  Why would I call a girl hamster Frodo?  Is a girl hamster a hamstress?

I pride myself on the accuracy of the content of these food firsts episodes and I can only apologise for unintentionally leading everyone astray.

 

Clearly last week’s trip to Crawley in search of pants, which resulted in the discovery of an Asian food store, was too much for me.  The excitement was, perhaps, too great or I just got a bit scared of new surroundings.  As a result, I felt compelled to return to Morrison’s for this week’s food first.

As now seems to be the Morrison’s norm, I paid a visit to the fruit and vegetable section to check if they still stocked scotch bonnet peppers – They did.  At some point I really am going to attempt to eat one of them.  I scouted around the area for potential new foods:  Chayote…  Done!  Persimmon fruit…  Done!  Star fruit… Done!  It appeared that I was potentially running out of international fruit and vegetable options – This would be a disaster, as it would again force me out of the comfortable surroundings of what I could probably get away with calling my 2013 second home.

I started to worry… What would I do if I had to find somewhere else to find new foods?  This was an upsetting thought to have.

Fortunately, before my tear ducts had time to force droplets of salty liquid out into the world and down my cheeks, I was distracted by a bit of a kerfuffle developing next to the carrots.  A man was complaining to a member of staff that someone had stolen his trolley.  He was clearly irate.  The initial staff helper was clearly no Bergerac and had to call the security guard from his position by the front door.  The security guard looked desperately around the area for the man’s trolley – which probably wasn’t going to help as everyone seemed to have one.  As crimes go, stealing someone’s trolley inside a supermarket is hardly the Great Train Robbery or the Turnip Heist of 1607.

As I continued to pry on developments at the crime scene, I noticed something unfamiliar on a shelf over the victim’s right shoulder…  It looked a bit like a pear, but with an armadillo-like scaly pattern across the surface.  This was something new…  Something I definitely hadn’t encountered before.  As it turned out, it was a Cherimoya Custard Apple.

Custard Apple? Or armadillo? Or modern art installation?

I had to wait for a couple of minutes for the now trolley-less man to be furnished with a new trolley before I was able to get to the fruit.  It turns out his original trolley had been totally empty and it wasn’t even one of those you have to put a pound coin in, so I’m not too sure why he was so angered.

Custard Apple Maths

Custard Apples sound like an ingenious idea – Like a complete pudding solution.  Something along the lines of “Take a fruit and a dessert sauce out of the cupboard?  Not me, I just custard apple and go!”  Hmmm, maybe the slogan needs some work…  Or I need some counselling.

After compliantly posing for some photographs, the custard apple found itself chopped in half and on its way in spoonfuls into my digestive system.

Apparently, Mark Twain – celebrated author and inaugural Moustache-Rearer of the Year in 1871 – described the custard apple as ‘the most delicious fruit known to men’ in an article in the Sacramento Union.  I assume that in 1866, when he wrote the piece, women had yet to be invented – or, heaven forbid, not even asked about their fruit preferences.

Anyway, as a man, I was looking forward to the impending deliciousness…

Men love it! What do you ladies think?

The custard apple had the consistency of a pear.  Black seeds – similar to those found in watermelon, but larger and almost bean-like – littered the cream-coloured flesh.  The taste is difficult to describe as each mouthful seemed to bring with it a different flavour…  There were hints of mango, toffee, pineapple and banana, all wrapped-up in the custard textured fruit.

As a maverick, I ate some of the skin – which, after a little research, was suggested to be a bit of a no-no – It tasted something like I would imagine potpourri to taste like.  Maybe next week I will eat potpourri just to see if my instincts were correct.

I’m not sure if I fully agree with Mr Twain about the custard apple being the most delicious fruit ever invented.  It was nice.  It was also the most varied flavoured food I have eaten, with the sole exception of a bag of jelly beans – You know, the ones with lots of different flavours.

Corrections and Apologies

In spite of my promise to be as accurate as possible in my musings, I may have fabricated the following: –

• There was no Turnip Heist in 1607 – Turnips weren’t invented until the following year.
• Mark Twain was not the first recipient of the Moustache-Rearer of the Year – The award, in fact, went to Tom Selleck’s great grandfather

According to my legal team, I am genuinely sorry for my factual errors…

Week Twenty-Four – Mix Mathai

This week’s entry is brought to you in association with Cock Soup – When you just have to have a warming meal that matches your personality!

We shall call this week ‘International Cake Week’…  Or the ‘Week I Ingested Too Many E-Numbers and Got a Bit Twitchy’… If I say anything controversial or type anything along the lines of sckjsdvkjvfdbkvs cnvdjvdSNDFH, I fully blame it on the side-effects of E102 and E124 – More on this later…  Unless I’ve got distracted and gone somewhere to jump up and down or disappeared next door to shout random Mork & Mindy quotes at the neighbours.

Anyway…

This was the week I decided that I would expand my horizons and leave Morrison’s well alone and try to find a food first outside of the international food aisle I’ve loitered in for most of my free time in 2013.

As luck would have it, I stumbled across an Asian food store on a random trip to deepest, darkest Crawley during a futile mission to get some new pants.  If you are interested (and I hope you are):  According to the Internet, Crawley is home to three Grade I listed buildings, it is the place where Daley Thompson used facilities to train for the 1980 and 1984 Olympic Games and is also the site of the headquarters of Novo Nordisk (This particular fact is not especially interesting at the moment, but I have a feeling may prove more so at some point in the near future).

Not mentioned on the Internet (until now, I guess), is that Crawley is also the place I discovered Mix Mathai – a hefty plastic tub of brightly-coloured, sugar-rich, snack-sized desserts.

Rather disappointingly, Crawley didn’t seem to be creepy in the slightest.

Potential Sugar Overload! Did you know that Novo Nordisk is, perhaps, the world’s largest producer of insulin – which I might need to offset the diabetes-inducing results if I decided to eat all of these delights in one go. See, I told you it was interesting!

Mathai (or Mithai) is the Hindustani word for confectionery or sweets.  The selection that I now had in my possession included eight different mini cakes – most of which resembled other foods I had eaten before (not necessarily cakes, though) – and would provide a pretty substantial dessert for the evening meal.  They are traditionally eaten at special events like weddings and celebrations for the birth of a child.  As none of these occasions were at my disposal at the time of eating, I would just have to consider pudding an event of note…  Which, I guess, it is.

Warning: Contains nuts and causes nuts!

There was a warning on the label that colourings ‘E102 and E124 may have an adverse effect on activity and attention in children’… Research has suggested that these two can cause tantrums in the young.  Also, given that the lead ingredient was listed as ‘sugar’, I’d imagine that this too would cause a similar adverse effect on behaviour in general and ruin, at least, a good night’s sleep.  I was a little concerned that I would become an absolute potential-ADHD nightmare if I sat down and ate the whole tub’s-worth in a single sitting.

If I’m honest, I wasn’t a massive fan of any of the mathai – They all tasted as if they were all a little bit undercooked, excessively sugary and perhaps, in time, will make me want to have a tantrum for the first time since about 1985.

If you are allergic to food colouring, look away now…

I have not been able to find out any of the names of the individual cakes (although, one might possibly be called barfi, which is appetising).  As a result, I have had to make up my own in the upcoming list.

In the interest of semi-completeness, here is a synopsis of my findings in bullet-point list form: –

• The one that looked like a prawn ball, tasted like a disappointing doughnut and anything that disappoints as a doughnut is… well… for want of a better word… disappointing.
• The pink one had the consistency of a gooey dolly mixture.  I only like the jelly ones, so this was never going to work.
• The mauve one was the same as the pink one, only mauve.
• The green one – possibly a pistachio barfi – was the same as the pink and the mauve one, only green and more nutty.
• The one that looked like millionaire’s shortbread was pretty significantly soggy bottomed. Anything with a soggy bottom is just never going to be good [Note the Great British Bake Off reference to show just how up-to-date I am with the culinary world].  I once had a hamster with wet tail, and that was just horrendous.
  

  Frodo – In his pre-wet tail pomp.  I miss him!

• The one that looked like a chunk of salmon/watermelon hybrid appeared to defy the laws of science (the hybridization of a fish and a fruit excepted) by being hard to slice with a knife, but melt in the mouth when eaten.  Can anyone explain how this is possible?

I didn’t quite manage to eat all of the mathai in one go – They were a bit rich and sugary for that – but I gave it a good go.  I appeared to have escaped the effect of the dreaded e-numbers too, which was a bonus.

Right, see you all next time…  I’m just off to see what the neighbours are up to…  NANOO NANOO!

Week Twenty-Three – Chayote

This week’s food first comes fresh from Costa Rica via Morrison’s high carbon footprint international fruits and vegetables aisle.

I was staring at the scotch bonnet peppers from a respectful distance for the umpteenth consecutive week, mulling over whether or not to make this week the week I killed myself with a food that would certainly be way too hot for my constitution of an coeliac gerbil to cope with, when my eye was drawn towards a sizeable green food.  It looked a bit like a large pear with a bottom-like crease at one end.  As someone who is a little juvenile, I laughed at its resemblance to an arse and picked it up (careful not to slip a finger in the crevice).

I’d like to point out that both my eyes were drawn towards it – I am yet to master looking at things independently with each eye…  I’d also like to point out that I don’t, in any way, have any sort of bum fetish.

The number on the sticker coincidentally matches the number of weeks behind schedule I am at trying to eat a new food a week

The small handily-located info panel told me that the fruit I held in my hand was a Chayote.  It also informed me that it was a fruit (but, I have a sneaking suspicions that it’s one of those vegetables masquerading as a fruit – much like avocado) that had been transported in from Central America to a Surrey suburb at great cost to the environment (in air fares and the like) – Obviously, it didn’t actually say that…  As a small-scale eco-warrior in the making, I read between the lines and worked that out myself.  Ladies and gentleman, always try to eat locally-sourced food!

The information provided also told me I could eat it cooked or raw…  Raw is good – It means minimal food preparation effort for me.

Raw, the Chayote tastes far from fruity – Some of my research has suggested that it resembles cucumber.  I’d go more for runner beans.  It was resoundingly vegetably and definitely tasted like it should be cooked before consumption.  A few bites left me with an aftertaste in my mouth somewhat reminiscent of that experienced when plunging face-first into lush grass following a futile attempt to show some skill on the football pitch.  As a footballer whose brain is a far better player than his feet, it is a taste I’ll sadly admit I’m well acquainted with.

Fruit or vegetable? Or a bit of both?

I’m not a fan of runner beans, vegetables or falling on my face, so I would have to say that raw Chayote doesn’t get the seal of approval.

To cook it, I whacked the Chayote in a bowl (with a sprinkling of water) and popped it in the microwave for eight minutes.  I don’t know why I chose eight minutes, but it was bloody hot when it came out and, in my book, that means it’s cooked.

Microwaved to within an inch of its life – Perfect!

When cooked, it is supposed to be very similar to butternut squash in texture and taste – I have to say that that is pretty much spot on.  It was definitely more palatable when heated through.

Either way it is prepared, Chayote is a good source of Vitamin C, so I guess I’ve delayed the onset of scurvy for another week.  Bonus!

And so ends Week Twenty-Three of my food firsts challenge…  A week in which I found an excuse to not eat peppers and came up with an idea for a new cartoon series:  –

The Road Runner & Wile E. Coyote is brought to you in association with: –

• http://www.marketwallpapers.com/wallpapers/background-cartoon-humour-simple-things-wallpaper–189083.html for the background image to the Road Runner picture.
• http://looneytunes.wikia.com/wiki/Road_Runner/Gallery for the Road Runner image.
• www.thereallyoddthingsthatgothroughmymind.co.uk for everything else.

 

As always, please do suggest new things I can eat…  I’m just off to plant a tree to offset my Chayote-related carbon footprint.

Week Twenty-Two – Cullen Skink

Sorry…  No video of me crying tears of fire after eating scotch bonnet pepper this week, as previously promised

If I’m honest, I’m still a bit scared of eating anything hotter than a chicken korma.  It will happen…  But not quite yet!

Instead, this week’s food first is Cullen Skink…  Something that immediately sounds like it’s going to be horrible.  The picture on the can did not help to allay this pre-conception – A beige-coloured liquid with CGI steam added just doesn’t seem appealing.  If my personality was a colour it would be beige – That similarity alone is enough to put anyone off.

It will probably come as no surprise to you all that I am not a food connoisseur and, as a result, I had no idea what was in the contents of the can when I picked it up from the supermarket shelf.

Undoubtedly soup – It even says so on the tin.

Obviously, I had an inkling that it was a soup.  The fact that it was in the soup aisle – next to cans of more conventional tomato-based soup – was almost the biggest give-away.  The biggest give-away was the block-capitalled statement on the label that it was indeed a soup.

The main reason I picked it up was the unusual name – It conjured up images of a prominent Twilight character and reptiles in a can.  Undoubtedly an intriguing combination…  And something I had never eaten before.

I’ll admit that I know very little about the Twilight Saga – Aside from the fact that it’s about vampires and, perhaps, bears, central characters not wearing clothing on the top-half of their bodies and that I am definitely a ‘Team Edward’ kinda guy.

Anyway, I digress…

Cullen Skink is a traditional Scottish soup that originates from the town of Cullen in the north-east of Scotland.  According to the blurb on the reverse of the can (also known as the ‘ingredients list’), it contains smoked haddock, potatoes, onions and cream, as well as the usual bits and bobs.

The ‘skink’ part is suggested to derive from the Dutch word ‘schenke, which means shin and was originally used in to describe beef soups…  As time passed, it was ultimately used to refer to soup in general.

Yum! A food to match the colour of my personality.

If you can remember, in a previous week I delved into the murky world of those internet sites where inquisitive people can ask a global audience for an answer to a burning question they have possibly had spinning through their minds for their entire life.  A burning question that, for some unknown reason, they can’t just look up in a book, ask a friend or, heaven forbid, shove it in the Google Search box in their best Arial (size 10) handwriting and find an answer in 0.37 seconds.  Once the question is asked, the enquirer is usually shot down in a torrent of sarcastic abuse from anonymous people who have nothing better to do than insult others from the safety of their computer in a distant time-zone.  It is the kind of behaviour that has shaken my faith in humanity on a number of occasions.

As someone who thinks they’re funny, I thought it would be amusing to see if I could ask a silly question on the Yahoo Answers site and get some abuse from the wider world.  That was the plan anyway…

As a skink is a type of lizard, I asked if “Cullen Skink Soup was made from lizards”.  Not very clever, I know, but I figured I might get some interesting responses.

I typed my question into the box (after having to sign in to the Yahoo account I never knew I had – perhaps I used to have a now forgotten secret Yahoo Pool addiction in a past life), submitted it and then waited for the insults, jibes and derisions to commence…

http://uk.answers.yahoo.com/question/index;_ylt=Ag6qP4OhVCZuYfjHQmHwV0t4KXRG;_ylv=3?qid=20130906142256AAvyiZI

I have to say, I’m a little disappointed with the results.  No one called me an idiot or attempted to slight me in any way.  Instead, I was given some useful information.  Not what I had intended, but it did restore some of my faith in the kindness of others.  It proved that people can be nice to each other on the internet – Maybe I had made a misjudgement in viewing a lot of the World Wide Web as a mean and nasty place.

Anyway, my Cullen Skink experience was pretty good.  The soup tasted very pleasant.  Fishy… But not too fishy.  It was the sort of food I could well imagine tucking into on a cold winter’s afternoon, sat in front of a roaring open fire.  The next time I find myself snowed-in somewhere in the Scottish Highlands after a day searching for the Loch Ness Monster, I will open a can of the haddock soup and let it warm my cockles – Just like the helpfulness of some anonymous internet answerers had done in recent times.

Next week – Scotch Bonnet Peppers…  Yeah right!