Proving once again I am completely lazy and incapable of coming up with an original blog topic, I was inspired tonight by the always funny Eileen Cook, who is blogging on hated foods.
The squirrel warning reminded me of a radio show I once heard. My parents used to own a houseboat in the Ozarks (don't ask) and I went down there a few times. While on the "boat" the radio station choices were limited, but we did get one station loud and clear from Versailles Missouri. (Pronounced Ver Sail's)
Mid morning each day, we tuned into our favourite program -- the call-in recipe show. Always entertaining, one day topped them all. The day a man called in with his roast possum recipe. The "recipe" was basically:
First ya skin it
Then ya rub in yer spices -- rub em in real good
Then ya roast it
Then the announcer made the mistake of asking the caller where one might find a possum. The caller replied, in a tone which made the stupidity of the announcer's question clear, "You go out and shoot you one."
3 comments:
Possum, eh? When I was in first grade, my dad killed a flying squirrel (dont' ask) and next day I took it into my one room schoolhouse (again, don't ask). The teacher took the dang thing home, skinned and gutted her and brought the skin in to show us the next day. I was silly enough to ask, "What happened to the rest of the squirrel?" He fidgeted, hummed and hawed. Now I'm afraid that squirrel became his Sunday night dinner. That's what happens up in the mountains. People look at just about anything and think: food.
I wonder if Possum tastes like chicken....
Ha! It probably does taste like chicken, but I, for one, do not plan to find out.
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