A promise is a promise…

One of the things I’m most excited for during my upcoming travels to South America is the array of food that I’ll get to experience, many of it for the first time. I’m already looking forward to making my foodiest (it’s a word alright!) friend Rachel seethe with jealousy over juicy Argentinean steaks swimming down my gullet in a sea of Malbec.

I’ve heard that in Peru, guinea pig can be found on the menu; it’s literal bubble and squeak (sorry). I am a big animal lover, and after this trip I am planning on going back to being a vegetarian – although I’ll live on more than crisp sandwiches unlike between years 2001-2004 when my appalling diet resulted in a hospital stay for a few days – but I figured I may as well go out with a bang. I’m already dreading the message from my friend who runs a guinea pig holiday home (I kid you not).

I’ve always been open-minded when it comes to food consumption, although I kinda wish I hadn’t been so gung-ho in Iceland when wolfing down some ‘kæster hákarl’. That’s rotten shark to you and me. The meat contains high levels of urea, which are pressed out of the body once the shark has been buried in sand and left for 12 weeks. Unsurprisingly, the end product tastes foul, unless you like the taste of pee. And apparently some folk do, but I quickly learned I’m not one of them.

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