It’s a cold autumn night and I’ve been outside for hours and suddenly I could eat an entire cow.
Oh wow, look at this! YES PLEASE.
Cheery little burner is lit, pile of awesome-looking stuff begins to melt down, mingling juices bubble merrily, and finally, finally, finally, servings are ladled out! Oh, no. Lurking under that innocent-looking pile of vegetables and strips of bacon-y meat are, yes, big chunks of…cow stomach. Those puffy bits are intestines and that rubbery, waffly-looking thing is tripe, I just know it. But my Japanese friend is tucking in with delight, so butch up, little missy. It won’t kill you if you wolf it down really fast and chase it with some beer.
All right, whew, done. But what’s this stringy black thing in my bowl? Hoping it’s a cooked version of my favorite seaweed, I said, hey this looks kind of like umibudō. Yeah, that’s what it is, my so-called friend says.
Note to self: next time, bring a LIE DETECTOR to dinner, because the instant Mr. Black Stringy Thing is in my mouth, I know he’s definitely NOT a member of the vegetable kingdom in good standing.
Okay, what was that, really?
Well, you know how cows have four stomachs? That’s what the second one tastes like.
The Last Tea Bowl Thief was chosen as an Editor’s Pick for Best Mystery, Thriller & Suspense on Amazon
“A fascinating mix of history and mystery.” —Booklist