Pickled walrus flippers, for instance.
You knew how delicious they can be after a year fermenting inside a cocoon of blubber and walrus skin. You were probably unaware that a problem with the fermentation process can lead to botulism, severe gastrointestinal distress, and death.
And who knew that blowfish even had testicles? (Though if I did know, I might suspect they were toxic. Just a guess.)
And that brings us to bacon. Universally beloved, Universally reviled. Some clever fellows in Kansas City have concocted a Bacon Explosion that includes woven bacon strips, a whole lot of sausage, and more bacon. 5000 calories. 500 grams of fat. Deadly in its own way.
This subject is of more than passing interest to me because I was brought up with the dictum that - when in Timbuktu - eating the local delicacies was not optional. My father traveled widely and as children we were led to believe that a significant factor in his business success was his willingness not only to eat rabbit eyeballs at a Syrian dinner, but to ask for seconds. On his return from distant parts, we thrilled to hear how he had dined on corn fungus (huitlacoche) or sucked monkey brains through a straw.
And he survived.
The greatest danger to the eater these days is the Food-that-is-not-food, the processed quasi-edible stuff in a package that neither looks nor tastes like anything in nature.
Bring on the walrus flippers.
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