Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Smell My Feet

There are three types of grocery stores in the south:

1. The Uppity Grocer: a store full of lots of ingredients that you have no idea how to pronounce, let alone be able to afford to buy. These store can easily be identified by their display of cheeses, truffle oils and fancy people behind the meat counter who may have actually met the cow you are about to buy thanks to a tour of the organic beef farm.

2. The Middle Class Grocer: this is usually a large chain store that offers the usual fare with a few specialty sections of organic, vegetarian and gluten-free offerings. You know you're in a middle-class store when their generic brands have fancy labels to make you feel better about the fact you are really buying the rejects of the brand-name foods.

3. The Country Grocer: this store is usually found in an abandoned shopping center where a middle class grocery used to be located. Due to the giant jars of pickled foods, you really have to watch your kids so they don't ruin the pig's feet display.

I tend to shop at option two when restocking our cabinets, and those fancy generic labels really do make my pantry look very delectable. But when I'm looking for foods to feed my girls, I make a trip to the country store. A middle class or uppity grocery would never have all of the animal parts for sale that I use to make up my girls' raw diet. You can't find backs, necks, gizzards, livers or hearts at the normal meat counter - middle class folks might get scared. But at the country grocery store, they have all this - and more.

Yep, I said more. For the first time ever at a commercial grocery store - country or otherwise - I purchased a package of chicken feet for the girls to nibble on. Chicken feet, while attached to a live bird, aren't the prettiest things to look at. Chicken feet detached and piled into one of those butcher trays and wrapped in plastic wrap is down right gross and creepy. Even worse, is looking at a display full of them.

I really don't want to know who buys these other than people who feed raw. I'm pretty sure that anyone who practices voodoo or witchcraft would need the feet from a live bird and not those that are packaged, but maybe I'm wrong.

Nonetheless, my girls enjoy their mid-day snack, talons and all. But I've asked them not to get too used to such a delicacy. I really don't like seeing these things clawing to get out of the plastic bag in the bottom of my fridge every time I go to get a drink.

9 comments:

Anonymous said...

I sure hope those babies appreciate their Mama.

pattysea said...

EEEUUUWWWW!!! GROSS!!!

gyeong said...

Some other countries would be impressed to see that we feed what they consider delicacies to our dogs :). I usually sneak a taste of any funky stuff I give to my kids. Chicken feet with black bean sauce sounds yummy.

Christy Stewart said...

The things we do for our fur babies! Gross but very sweet!

houndstooth said...

I think I may have nightmares tonight! Those feet just look disturbing! You're a much better woman than I am!

Terri said...

O_o As much as I love my hounds, I couldn't possibly buy those, much less allow them in my house. They FREAK me out! Ours get nice frozen raw beef marrow bones for chewing and teef cleaning.

Bethanie and Chris said...

Haven't seen chicken feet since moving out of SC.

Trina said...

Oh my..I have seen Gyeong eat some weird stuff (and figure now he will make an effort to find this on a menu the next time we are out and about)..and I am game to try anything one. But I think even I would push that away. Props to you for having them in your fridge.

IHateToast said...

Feet just seem to be an odd thing to eat. Pig. Chook. I don't care. They're feet. Some cultures find the showing of the sole offensive. I will adopt that and add eating of the sole, too.

Now, to be a royal hypocrite, I have roo tail thawing in the sink. Mmmm. Roo tail. The kids love it. Lean. It's like osso bucco with more meato.

In Germany, I saw udder. My boyfriend bought it for the dogs. Some fry it up to eat. Again. Gimme my muscles. If I have to eat meat, it's going to be a muscle.