My characters love both. Because if they didn't I'd erase them and draw new ones that did.
As for other controversial foods, the MC in Wild Nights, Hot and Crazy Days hunts deer. Hunting in itself is controversial to some people, but in one scene he eats the heart of the first deer that he killed. No, he didn't reach into its chest, pull the heart out, and eat it, but he did fry it up and eat it like regular meat. It was a rite of passage. And he loved it. And still does.
It's me. I'm the MC. And at first I thought that my brother and father were having me on about eating the heart, but it really is a thing, and it really is delicious.
The passage that describes it:
Finally supper was ready. Mark and Dad placed a plate in front of each of the guys with a pork chop, potatoes, and vegetables piled up. Mine looked different. Instead of a pork chop there was a couple of big, round pieces of meat with holes in them. The meat looked dark.
âWhat is this?â I asked.
Mark gave me that sly grin again, and Dad was looking at me with the same grin.
âThe heart. Itâs a rule. You have to eat the heart of your first deer.â
âWhat? No! Thatâs gross!â I protested.
âSorry, but you have toâ Mark said. I looked around and saw everybody looking at me expectantly. I didnât care.
âNo! That looks gross! Iâm not eating guts!â
Everybody laughed. Everybody, that is, except Mark and Dad.
âCome on. You have to. Donât worry about it, itâs just a muscle like any other meat. Weâve all done it. Itâs actually deliciousâ, Mark said.
I didnât believe him. I looked at the meat on my plate. It looked funny with those holes in it. Still, it did smell good.
Dad got serious. "Look, eating the heart is a ritual here, kind of a way of showing respect to the animal you just harvested. It's a way of showing that the animal did not die for nothing, that it will be eaten and not wasted. You may not ever eat heart again, but this is important."
I was still not convinced. I looked at Mark. âIf itâs as delicious as all that, you eat some firstâ, I challenged.
âNo problemâ, Mark said, and reached over to my plate, picked the smallest piece (which was still fairly large), and popped it into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed.
âTasty!â, he said.
There was nothing else for it. I had to eat it now. I picked up a piece and bit a chunk off. As I chewed it I considered its consistency: Very tender, not âgrainyâ like regular meat.
And it was absolutely fucking delicious.
I gave Mark a thumbs up, then devoured the rest of the meat on my plate. The guys in the camp started cheering. I made a mock bow to everyone and sat down.
And the chapter you'll find it in:
