Challenging Cosmopolitan Taste Buds

 

Go back to a blog post you always thought could be better, or were unsatisfied with — now, fix it.

This story was simply never finished till today

Backwoods cuisine  served with comic results.

My husband and a  rather eccentric  friend had driven up to the Quebec side, in the Canadian Shield, to fish in one of the thousands of lakes which surround us. Driving home in the twilight they inadvertently drove over a porcupine. Now Michael and his friend  P.J. had lived in the wilderness for a few months after university, surviving on fish, an old turtle, rice and coffee. Never one to waste good organic meat, P.J. immediately yelled,

” Mike, pull over. Porcupine is good eating.”

This was the opportunity of a lifetime. Porcupines are protected because they are easy to kill if a man is lost in the woods, simply bop him on the nose and this waddling lazy animal provides a delicious, tender meal.The two survivalists decided to nail this road kill to a tree so they could skin and gut  him without injury. They arrived home chuckling over their good fortune, still debating the best way to cook the tender meat.  Finally, they decided to stuff the meat with a bread, onion, garlic and herbs and wrap it in bacon.

Suddenly a wicked idea popped into my head,

” John is coming over for dinner tomorrow. He is so conservative but loves to act artistic and sophisticated. What if I served roasted porcupine?”

P.J. burst out laughing,

” And don’t say a thing until he has eaten at least half of his meal. I would love to see the look on his face!”

The following evening John arrived  wearing a tweed jacket with his  shirt collar and cuffs  pulled up over it, a scarf casually draped around his neck and a jaunty beret. Michael and I secretly smiled at each other as he raved over the delicious meal. Smiling mischievously I casually remarked,

“John, did you know that you are actually eating porcupine?”

He froze, fork held in mid-air with a brief look of horror on his face,

“Mel, you are joking, right?”

“Not at all”, I replied, “Since you are so very cosmopolitan, I just knew you would enjoy something exotic.”

John smiled weakly, nodded and then slowly lowered his fork. He did not eat another bite of his meat.