“What IS this?!” Just as soon I finished chewing what I had put in my mouth, these three words came out of it. What I had innocently assumed to be a mushroom was definitely not a mushroom.
I looked closer at my plate. Their appearance really threw me off. Mixed in with the carrots and peas, why wouldn’t this stemmed, cone-shaped chunk be anything other than a mushroom?
It’s totally a mushroom. One of the stringy, chewy, hallow kinds. They grow those here, right?
How does that saying go? Ignorance is bliss?
Well, ignorance is short-lived. And bliss can be deceiving. With even the slightest prick of a pin, a bubble can pop, quickly sucking one out of oblivion. Exposure to fact is inevitable. Even if you don’t ask for it, someone else will.
Someone like me.
Today, I was the pin popping blissful ignorance. My sincerest regrets to all. How I would love to have remained in the dark about the mysterious mouthful I dared to swallow.
That just might become my substitute swear-word, because Lord knows, I wanted to swear after hearing what I had just forced down my throat.
Giblets. AKA chicken organs. Apparently the once vital heart, gizzard, and liver still serve postpartum purpose after the birthing of its principal juicy roast. How was I supposed to know that the life of a chicken isn’t over until every visceral offal is consumed? The cavity’s contents must not be forgotten!
I’d rather they were.
Some find them a delicacy; I’m sure many in the room delighted over this royal treat.
But as for me, I felt almost violated. A warning would have been nice. At least then I would have been able to mentally prepare/ it would have been my intentional choice to eat or not eat what I ate.
However, that is not what happened. What did happen is I deceivingly ate several little chicken hearts.
Valves and all.