narrow minded snacking

An engineer friend of mine is approaching her twentieth anniversary of working at our company. To celebrate, our company is throwing a cocktail reception for her, and Susan gets to pick the menu.After a quick poll of our office, she decided on some pretty typical “happy hour” fare: a veggie tray, some chicken strips, chips and salsa, and calf fries. CALF FRIES!

Calf fries taste like chicken! Really?

I don’t care what you call them; Rocky Mountain Oysters, Montana Tenderloins, Cowboy Caviar or Swinging Beef; they are what they are! I’ve never eaten THAT part of ANY animal, and up to now, I’m pretty sure I haven’t missed much. But Susan and Mitch, the other engineer in our office, insist that I’ll love them!

Mitch says “Think of them as beef potato chips.” Sliced thin, breaded and deep-fried, they bear no resemblance to what the bull gave up to become a steer. And Susan says they taste like chicken. I’ve heard that one, before! They both insist that I’ll love them, and after a couple of drinks at the party, I’ll forget what I’m eating. I’m thinking it might take more than a couple of drinks.

We work in Dodge City, Kansas, the beef capital of the world. I could have anticipated this. And I’m not claiming to be a picky eater. Good friends will tell you that if you can fry it, I’ll eat it. This time, I’m being called out, though. I may have to swallow my pride, so to speak, and try these “calf fries”, just to avoid being teased and joked about at work. I mean, this IS Cattle Country.

I wouldn’t dream of disappointing Susan and skipping this party, but I may have to come up with some clever excuse not to try these beef testicles. I wonder if Susan would believe me if I told her I was allergic to chicken?