Talkin' Shit About A Pretty Sunset

When the snakehead fish hit the ponds of Maryland, people freaked out, saying it was going to devour every species in sight and then walk to the next body of water. Fuck that fish. I decapitated his ass and ate him from a plate. How about we train it to walk to the nearest restaurant and climb onto my plate.



Snakehead don't look so tough boiling on a plate. It was the first thing on the table to go.



The papaya is the only fruit around here I can pronounce. Usually, when I ask the question, "What's that fruit?", I get some name that I've never heard of like "Uk Uk" or "Waba Wookie". Fuck all that.



I ate this meal at a shrimp farmer's house (largish shack on stilts). I climbed onto a reed platform with 10 others and we ate with our hands. I like simple farm food --- plate, rice, shrimp, fish, peppers, tea, hands. Nothing else.



Here's the meal being prepared over smoldering coconut husks.



And as always, the women do the hard work of gutting fish.



This was hands down the toughest, most rubbery meat I've eaten. It's a local flightless duck whose flesh is blackish gray. The live bird is usually cramped in some cage out front of the restaurant. Imagine me, both hands clutched around the leg bone, desperately trying to pull off a chunk of meat with my straining teeth and bulging eyes.



Fresh coconut sounds like a good idea, but it sucks ass. The insides of a coconut are slimy and flavorless. Plus, the machete they cut the top off with usually is teeming with microbes that give you the shooting shits for two days. My suggestion: give it to the chickens.



I never knew beef farms were so infested with flies. Every surface was covered with them --- temporarily making white paint into elusive black clouds, hard not to inhale.



I bet you had no idea bananas had penises.