It been a while since I documented eating something weird, so today we have a good one.
I bought a few things for my last-minute update. What really got my attention was this:
And we will get to that magnificent black egg, but I also got some soda to wash it down with. I’m going to present this in reverse order, to build suspense.
Fentiman’s Curiosity Cola. I picked this up because I was, well, curious. I figured what would go better with an old preserved egg than a fermented ginger cola? If you’re going fermented, go all the way. Also I love drinks that suggest “up end before pouring”. Mmm… sediment.
The ingredients intrigue me. So let’s crack it open and give it a whiff.
Smells like cola and ginger, but brighter. Sharp, like a backing of lemon. It’s probably the malt.
Taste? It’s a lot like it smells. Cola, ginger, malty and bright, almost pine-like. It tastes yellow. I might even taste some of that juniper they listed in the ingredients. But really, who knows what juniper tastes like? In short, I love it.
Fentiman’s Curiosity Cola! Delicious. But enough with the surprisingly good thing.
On to the main event:
Another view of that glorious box. Preserved Duck Egg. It’s Taiwan Flavor, and although it makes me nervous, I shouldn’t worry, because, “Hey, lead free!”
It came in a pack of four. Individually packed, which means I can eat one now, and save the rest for when amnesia sets in and I forget how horrifying it is.
Freshly unwrapped, the scent is evident. It’s not overpowering, but it’s certainly unpleasant. Struggling to put it into words, I say, “Wet cat, or cat lady’s house.” There’s a distinct ammonia smell, but also a powdery clay aftersmell. Is aftersmell a word?
Now, I get to crackin’. It’s easier to open than a standard boiled chicken egg. I think the egg has shrunk a bit inside, leaving some space between the egg and shell. Once open there’s a stronger scent. Slightly different, but still not overwhelming. It smells like reptile cages, or damp soil and latex paint.
The “whites” (now dark amber) are gelatinous. It looks like brown glass.
Down where the yolk is, the color becomes green-gray with little crystallized stars. I would have been convinced that these speckles were mold if it hadn’t been featured on the box. So, this is something that is desirable in this product. It looks like a rock here, but it’s not. It’s jell-o.
Brace yourself for this next picture.
Holy hell, you guys. HOLY HELL! What is this? What have I done? Why?! OH WHY?!
Did you say closeup? OK:
This has been specially designed to light up all of my do-not-eat-this sensors. It looks infected.
Still, the show must go on. Let’s start with the least offensive part.
The whites, or the purples. I cut off a section of gelatinous, wobbly purple, and hold it up to the light.
This doesn’t look all that bad. I can imagine it’s something else.
I chew it for a while. Megan asks, “Is it terrible?” I think about it. Honestly, no. It’s fine. This tastes almost exactly like hard boiled egg whites. Maybe a little smokier, but it’s barely perceptible. The texture is a little softer, but blindfolded, I’m not sure I would spot the difference.
Next comes the part I’m less okay with. The slug part. The liquified turtle feet. I don’t know. I don’t want! No!
In it goes. Like a band-aid. I don’t mean quickly, to avoid the pain of waiting, I mean the taste is like a band-aid. OK, not really.
The taste is unique. The first thing my taste buds scream is “EGG!”, but not in a good way. In that way that you would scream it if you were being murdered by an egg. The liquid yolk completely coats my mouth, and there is no way to avoid it. It is in every fold of my tongue. Between my lips and gums. Every possible spot is covered with a creamy, eggy odor. The ring of horror around the yolk is a bit caustic.
But what exactly does it taste like? Dead, wet, gutter leaves in browned butter, but more intense. It tastes like soil, fat, and rust stored in an old tin can and eaten on a cold day. Old, smokey eggs with a touch of battery acid.
Now, all that said, I can understand why people might grow to like this. It was a terrible experience for me, but so were mushrooms when I was 5. There’s really nothing that tastes like this, and it’s such a unique flavor, you could easily become a connoisseur. Like a gross old wine that tastes like dirt, it’s supposed to be bitter and ghastly. That’s the point.
Worst thing I’ve ever eaten? Maybe. It’s in the top 5 I know that. That was fun.
I’ve still got 3. Anybody want to have a tasting party?
Check back next time for a weird canned food explosion:
Check out more “Adventures in eating.“