The Challenge Of Eating Balut (Part 1)

By BobbyRica | November 6, 2010

balut1

Akasha was too entranced by the girl. I muttered, “Sure, what do you have?” More sinful thoughts distracted my query, not really thinking of what was happening.

“I have some freshly cooked duck eggs. We call it balut!” exclaimed the cute girl, her dimples appeared out of nowhere and made me giddy from the discovery. “It is a great food to eat during the late hours of the evening. It will make you strong! With some salt, it tastes delicious!” It was a line that somehow she has rehearsed dozens of times.

My hands were pushing through my pocket to find my wallet when Akasha was already handing over ten dollar bills. The girl gave out this charming little chuckle as she returned the ten dollar bills and just took a fiver. I imagined how great it would be to hear that giggle many times during a date.

She motioned us to squat down as she knelt on the Bermuda grass and carefully placed the basket on the ground. “I will give you one egg each. That will be enough to keep you strong this evening”, her lilting voice made me want to kiss her lips.

She opened the basket and a faint yet odd boiled odor wafted out. It smelled like a wet blanket that had been left to dry indoors. She gingerly pulled out two eggs. Steam had now rushed out. I imagined the steam to be clouds as it wafted on her beautiful Asian face. I say to myself, I’m such a lucky guy to meet a beauty like her on my first day.

bALUT

She slowly placed the warm egg into our outstretched palms. My gaze fixed on her face. The girl is so enchanting I was willing to eat the eggs off from her hands. She seemed pleased that we were in rapped attention. “I want you to break the egg. Be careful not to spill what’s inside. Look at what I do.”

She took one egg from the basket and deftly hit the narrow side of the egg on the pavement with precise force. She slowly took out the cracked eggshell to reveal a soupy interior. We followed suit. There was a dull thud when I hit mine. My egg was heavy than usual and I cracked it hard. To my surprise, clear watery fluid came out. The girl coolly told me to sip the fluid from the egg, which I did. There was an odd somewhat metallic taste that didn’t agree with me. But I soldiered on. I am not going to end this evening without her telephone number.

Tropical goddess then told us to start taking out the top half of the egg. This time, she was smiling an infectious toothy grin. I and Akasha smiled back as we proceeded to peel the egg. But then I was too eager to impress this girl, I shoved my tongue inside the egg. My tongue reached into the center and to my horror, the tip of my tongue tasted the rough leathery hide of a semideveloped head of the chick. Akasha almost choked when he peeled his. There was a dead chick with the yolk still attached to it. It had already grown feathers.

My stomach was now growling. The girl now looked concerned. Her eyes stopped sparkling and grew sad. “You don’t like balut?” she said softly, disappointment forming in her face. She looked like she carried the world in her small slender shoulders. I didn’t want to disappoint her. Not her.

balut,exotic food

Determined and with renewed resolve, I cracked open the egg and more soupy fluid dripped down from my fingers. The chick cadaver’s head had bent down into the side of my fingers, its dead eyes staring at me and its duck beak opened in frozen terror. Daffy and Donald, I’m sorry!!!! She smiled her sunshine smile as she approached me and touched my hand. I swore, electricty sparked when our skin met. I almost wanted to lower my head to kiss that lovely hand. But before I did anything, her hand hovered above the egg and sprinkled course salt. She then gently pushed my hand to my mouth, wanting me to taste what I was holding.

Akasha was silent all this time. He was looking at me with wide incredulous eyes. This black guy desperately tried to hide his disgust. But somehow, our tropical goddess wasn’t minding him too much.

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