Frog legs for dinner

frogs legs – always fresh

Originally uploaded by musiquegirl

So, I mentioned in my last post that we went out for dinner Friday night. Without kids! Yes, way. A grown-up night. It was BIG fun. As it happened, we were staying within walking distance of one of my very favorite restaurants: Rio Grande Cafe. I love all Mexican / Southwestern food, but Rio Grande is my favorite. Because seriously? Nothing says “fiesta” like paper-thin corn chips, smoky salsa, and a frozen margarita.

After an hour’s wait, we were finally seated at our table. We were checking out the menu when our Cheerful Waitress popped over to “take care of us this evening.” She asked if we were ready to order. As Curt debated his selection, I mentioned that Rio Grande is “famous” for its frog legs. Because, you know, they’ve had ‘em on the menu for, like, forever. That’s how I knew.

“Well, then I will have the frog legs!”

“Seriously?” I asked.

“Yeah, you said they’re famous, right?”

“I did…”

The waitress helpfully suggested we pair them with a chicken fajita platter, to share, plus two orders of the beans & rice for sides. We agreed, ordered more margaritas, and she bustled off to get the kitchen working on our order.

When our food arrived, it looked delicious. Even the frog legs appeared to be, well, meaty, and, not so much froggy. Curt offered me a bite. My throat closed immediately, almost reflexively, in response.

“Um, NO THANKS!,” I sputtered. “That’s, like, FROGS!”

I have never been an adventurous meat eater. Growing up, I had older cousins who hunted small game and fowl and would often share their bounty with our family. I couldn’t bring myself to eat it. I thought it smelled funny. My mom loved her some liver & onions, but I always refused to try it. Too dark, I said. I remember our family gathering ’round while my uncle butchered a big ole’ pig. It was an event… but something about the smell. I also remember one time, the folks had gone in on part of a steer, and somehow had become the lucky owners of a HUGE COW TONGUE, which they placed in our fridge. It was just hanging out there, as if it could leap out and LICK ME! Nope, I was never one for anything other than the most pedestrian of meats: Ground beef, a nice steak, chicken breast, turkey (only white meat), or a nice pork tenderloin or honey-baked ham. Or shrimp. That’s about it.

Curt’s offer reminded me of one vivid memory from my youth where I reluctantly agreed to try what I considered to be an offbeat meat. We were staying on the Jersey Shore, as was our family’s tradition, for one week each summer. It was also our tradition during that week to all go out one night for a Nice Seafood Dinner. We went to a restaurant that had a Ginormous Salad Bar, which was a groundbreaking thing in the 1970s. My mom, in her ongoing efforts to “expand our horizons”, saw pate on the Salad Bar and encouraged me to try it. Just try a taste. Because, you know — you’ll never know if you don’t like it unless you try it.

“I don’t think I can. It’s, like, dark, and smells funny,” I offered.

“You’ll like it – just one tiny bite,” Mom countered.

“Seriously – I think I won’t be able to swallow it,” I said. (Is this reminding you of my hurdle story yet?)

“Oh come on – just a little taste!” Mom insisted.

So, I tasted. And, I gagged… and had to spit the offending meat product out, right into my nice white cloth napkin. Because, this weren’t no KFC we were eating at – this was a Nice Restaurant, with Tablecloths and a Ginormous Salad Bar. Cloth Napkins and multiple forks. Dessert plates. Butter knives. Water goblets.

I remember running to the bathroom to rinse my mouth and spit out any traces of pate, and I’m sure I was near tears and probably told my mom “I TOLD YOU I’D GAG!”, but I don’t remember anything specific after the realization that pigs would fly before I would be able to swallow that horrid cat food pate.

Maybe this will be the post that prompts my mom, a loyal reader, to leave a comment in reply instead of emailing me directly. What say you, Mom? How about sharing your recollection of the horrible pate-tasting incident?

By the way – the lobster tail and shrimp at this restaurant were out of this world. Let no one say I have an unsophisticated palette!