This morning as I was
playing on the computer washing dishes I received a phone call from my friend Barbara. Matt Silver – our Youth Minister – had asked her earlier if she could drive up to Souderton and pick up something for Sunday night’s youth group. She had prior commitments and was calling to see if I would be able to make the 30 minute jaunt.
Not a problem since all I was doing was
playing on the computer dusting and vacuuming so I said sure.
This is what I picked up:
Do you know what this is? No? Let me show you a closer shot:
Yes, folks. I drove to a meat packer and picked up ten pounds of pork tongues. Here’s the conversation I had with Matt after I spoke with Barb:
Me: Am I going to gag when I see them?
Matt: Naw. They’ll be in a bucket with a lid so you won’t even see them.
Matt: Can you boil them for me?
Me: Laughing. Um, yeah. I guess. (It did sort of occur to me that I would have to see them, but I tried not to think about that.)
Me: What exactly are you going to do with them? (I was afraid of the answer.)
Matt: I’m thinking of something like bobbing for apples. Maybe I’ll put them in a big bowl of spaghetti.
Me: *gasp* *giggle* You are seriously demented.
So then my sister, Terri, calls and I tell her where I’m headed and that I’m going to boil them when I get home.
Terri: Oooo! It’s going to make your house smell!
Me: Yeah. I was thinking about that.
Terri: You need to open all the windows and doors and buy a ton of Fabreeze and scented candles.
Me: Good idea.
Terri: Then you’ll stink up the entire neighborhood and all the neighbors will talk about those crazy Arkansans.
Terri: You know, “they go to the sex church and their Southern cooking makes the whole place reek”.
The drive to Souderton was beautiful, but wet. I found the place, went in the office, paid for the tongues, asked how long to boil them for, never got an answer because no one seemed to know, and was told to go back the way I’d come, past the stairs and to “customer pickup”.
So I went back the way I’d come, past the stairs and started looking for “customer pickup”. All I found were metal doors with ominous looking “Danger” signs. And the farther I explored the smellier it became. I finally went back to the office to ask for directions again. This time she told me to drive around, past the tractor-trailer rigs and the door with the stairs and ramp was customer pick up.
The person in the white lab coat, surgical cap and industrial eye and ear protectors
threw me. I was only there for tongues. What kind of experiments do they perform in there? Whatever. By that time I just wanted to get my bucket and go because I was afraid the stench was going to stick to my clothes and my nose hairs.
I drove back to town and called Todd as I pulled into the high school parking lot to pick up Taylor and Kristen.
Me: Guess what I have in the back of the car.
Todd: I have no idea.
Me: Pig tongues.
Me: Pig tongues. Ten pounds of them.
Me: Matt needs them for Sunday night and Barb was busy so I told her I’d go get them.
Todd: That’s disgusting.
Me: It gets worse.
Me: I have to boil them.
Todd: WHAT?!?! That will stink up the house for days!
Me: Yeah. I thought of that. And Terri mentioned the same thing.
As much as the thought of smelling boiled pig tongue for a week concerned me, what I was really afraid of was seeing them. All those tongues floating around in whatever liquid they’re packed in. And then taking them out and putting them in my stock pot. Just the thought makes my tummy feel all squicky.
So after some thought I called Matt and told him I had the tongues, but I couldn’t boil them here because: a) I didn’t want to smell up everything; and b) I was afraid it would make me puke. I called Todd afterwards about something else and found out he had called Matt, too.
Poor Matt. He’s coming by tomorrow to pick up the bucket and taking them home to boil. Sure hope they don’t smell up his house!