Intestines... Yum!

Three days ago my friend convinced me to go to a parrilla (grill) which has the best chinchulines in Buenos Aires. I assumed that anything cooked at a parrilla must be good.

After accepting the invitation I asked him, "What are chinchulines?"
"The small intestine of a cow," he replied. "I don't usually like them but these are supposed to be the best in town."

So we went to the parrilla and sat at an outside table waiting for them to be cooked on the charcoal, whilst the smell of every other delicious meat that we could have been potentially eating wafted past our noses.

And then the chinchulines arrived. The look was good. The smell was good. The crunchy sound of the first bite was good. But when you do bite down on the narrow intestinal tracts all the partially digested food of the cow - let me optimistically say it's grass - comes squeezing out onto your tongue in a lumpy, white paste. This was not so good.

We squeezed a bit of lemon on there, and sprinkled a little salt - i.e. a lot of lemon and a lot salt - and it was actually not so bad. It tastes like crispy, barbecued meat mixed with grass and stomach juices. So I guess it's a balanced diet.

I guess we just have negative associations with some foods. Why should it matter that I'm consuming something in the penultimate stage of it becoming shit?

I recommend you try them. They certainly test your faith as a meat-eater.