Pickled Tongue

Pickled Tongue was one of my most favorite foods as a kid.

But would it have been if I’d known what it was?

My parents usually ordered an extra plate of tongue  JUST FOR ME anytime we went to one of the Basque restaurants in Bakersfield  (Wool Growers is a favorite).  I would be THRILLED with anticipation of my favorite dish, if I knew that was where we were going.  And for some reason, unknown to me at the time, this greatly amused my Dad.

At some point, I’d been living away from Bako and had long since gotten out of the habit of eating the stuff when I realized:

“Pickle-Tongue”  =   Actual Cow’s Tongue that’s been Pickled!

The Horror!!!!!   The Betrayal!!!!!!!

But  here’s the thing:  I can’t undo my liking of it! I think I tried, for like a minute,  to unlike-it  and it was stupid and futile.

The taste buds want what they want.

*****Pickled Tongue the blog is about experiences like this and my great love of all things over the top, deep-fried, on fire, sparkling and scary.*****