Thank you, Dominic Mulligan.
[ASIDE]And I just noticed that in my question I was inadvertently channeling Aretha’s back-up singers. What it is, what it is…[/ASIDE]
My girlfriend eats this. She doesn’t think there’s anything unusual about it at all. But she was raised in the Philippines.
I’m not sure which is more disgusting of the two. I hate eggs, so I might rather eat the goose roasted alive if I had to eat one of them. In terms of how disgusting the method of carrying out the actual recipe is, I think the goose is more disgusting.
I’m guessing the OP would not be interested in dog stew or dried-cow-blood-in-clumps stew. Or chicken anuses.
Chicken buttholes are actually a lot more palatable than you’d imagine. If you can forget that they are indeed chicken buttholes.
I don’t think I would want to eat dog, but I don’t really think of it as disgusting - to me, it’s just another meat that’s eaten by other cultures. If I had to eat dog though I would rather have one that was raised specifically for food, and not one that had spent its life eating scraps from the street or something. I can’t imagine it would be that bad.
Dried cow blood in clumps? If that’s all that was in the stew, no, I don’t want any. If that’s one ingredient out of many, I could probably handle it. Blood is used as in ingredient in a lot of traditional foods.
That last one on your list, Hazel, no thanks. What do those…look like anyway?
Greatest Recipe Ever:
Grossest Recipe Ever (But simultaneously the best recipe ever)-- Boiled Pigs Ears with Hot Sauce…Boil a coupla pounds of pig ears in water with onions for a few hours, serve the ears and broth with copius amounts of Louisiana Hot sauce. One of the dishwashers wives treated me to her homecookin’. The texture and simplicity of the spicy, meaty, crunchy, with full flavor broth was really the best.
True Soul Food.
They were actually more crunchy, gelatinous.
Mmmm… cartilagey.
Ah, Hazel, what was the hangul for the chicken buttholes again? We ate them last night at pojangmacha.
I’m going to romanize them as dong-jip. And, if I’m not mistaken, doesn’t that mean something close to “a house of poo” or something similar?
My Korean sucks, tyvm. 
Once you get past the fact that they are sphincters, they’re quite good stir fry. There’s a spicy, saucy version of them as well, but I prefer the oily stir fried version.
If they pounded 'em flat with a mallet before frying and sold 'em by the half-dozen or dozen in a brown paper sack, would that be a Bag of Smashed Assholes?
I can’t find Cecil’s column, but he did one on French monks eating fetal rabbits. Yeeeeuuuuuuckkkkk!!!
The meat pies from Sweeney Todd provide the “If you knew what was in this, or saw how it was prepared, you couldn’t enjoy it” example.
Dak-dong-jip, yeah. Heh. They are pretty good.
Hijack - Hey, you’re in Seoul. I did not know that. I’ll be going back this summer - we should totally hang out and have some chicken assholes. 
Squirrel is freakin’ delicious. That includes the brains, baked in their tiny skulls and accessed with a nutcracker. I grew up in Appalachia and have eaten many a squirrel in my day.
(Note: these were woods squirrels, of course, fattened for the winter on nuts and wild berries and like that. An urban park squirrel, with its diet of soggy McDonald’s french fries and cigarette butts, would probably be far less delectable should one try to eat the poor thing.)
Folks who raise and butcher their own hogs (like a lot of the people I grew up around) tend to use just about every part of the pig that can be made fit for human consumption – everything but the hair and bones and eyeballs, basically. Feet? Pickle 'em. Tails? Braise ‘em like oxtails for poor folks’ stew. Head?..well…you shave off the bristles, toss the eyeballs to the hound dogs and then boil the whole hog’s head (the hog’s whole head? the head of the hog, whole?) in a great big pot for many hours, long enough for all the flesh to come away easily. After picking the gristle out of it, the meat is sent through a grinder several times with some extra fat and proper spices. The final product is a pale, mostly pate-textured (but with some chunks) conglomeration home-canned, put up in jars for months, and known as hog’s-head cheese, or familiarly, souse. Or, sometimes, sousemeat.
And, you know what? Gross as that might sound, it is some real good eatin’ – fried up with eggs and grits or biscuits or taters on a cold winter’s morning, or sliced thick and served cold on a sandwich.
I’m a stone-cold city boy now, these last 25 years, and I still miss that stuff sometimes. It’s actually one of the very few things I ever do miss from back then and back there.
We called it head cheese. And then there’s blood sausage, that tastes like you bit a chunk out of the inside of your cheek. Grandpop always took brains and scrambled them with eggs for breakfast, but no gravy. My mother’s favorite bits were “sweetbreads”, which I think are lymph nodes or glands or something. I must admit, heart never was one of my favorite things, being so chewy, but I have a deep and perverse love for cow tongue. I have cooked it for my 13-yr. old son’s last 3 birthday parties, just to gross out his friends, but now some of them love it and request it every year. Ya know, the worst part is peeling off the rubbery tastebud part…Yes, I was raised in a German Amish community. Why do you ask???
Sweetbreads are the thymus (neck sweetbreads) and pancreas (stomach sweetbreads). They aren’t too bad, very soft and rich. We used to eat them pan-fried in butter and served on toast. I think there was other preparation involved, but I was very young and don’t remember what it entailed.
My grandfather was also a brains and scrambled egg eater. Nothing could have induced me to try even a tiny bite of that glop.
You don’t understand. When my German ex-coal miner grandfather put something in front of you and said, “Esse!” (eat!) you ate. And no talking during meals, or he thwacked you on the head with a knife handle.
I actually prepared something that involved baking beef liver with milk and prunes. I don’t know why I thought that might be good. I threw it out directly into the Dumpster.
I’m pretty sure you stepped into a wormhole that exited directly into the 1950s. Thank God you made it back out alive. You might be having potted meat for dinner this very night.
People always say this, and I have such difficulty believing it! I don’t really like grape jelly, though, and I prefer vinegar-y barbecue to sweet barbecue. I’m willing to believe that other people love it, but it’s going to remain slightly weird to me forever.
I think my grandparents are responsible for 50 percent of all pickled pigs feet sales in the county we live in. Also pickled herring. There’s something about pickled fish skin that is just inherently disgusting.