Rather Than Watching

So last Saturday I was at a Caribbean restaurant and one of the offerings was ox tail. It wasn’t a fancy place - it was sorta cafeteria style, but maybe a little nicer than your average Piccadilly with an added island vibe. I asked the girl behind the counter, “What’s ox tail taste like?” To which she responds, “It’s good. It tastes just like beef. Do you want to try a sample?”

A sample. Okay. Sure.

She takes a big spoon and needles her way around the bone, scooping out a sizable chunk of meat, which she then puts in a small plastic cup.

I wanted a fork, but I didn’t want to seem like a wimp. The lady was expectantly waiting for my inaugural ox tail experience. My husband was staring at me. Everyone was wondering how was this going to go down? I toss it back like a shot of vodka. Except I have to chew it. The slippery meat slides onto my tongue. I chew. I chew some more. It tastes…slimy. Minutes pass. They feel like hours. Oh god! This is not very tasty at all. YUCK! Must. Maintain. Composure. Finally, it’s gone.

I take a second to thank God for not gagging and I promptly say, “I’ll have the vegetarian dish, thank you.”