TASTY TRAVELS

My culinary journey into some of the weirdest foods of the world started when I blindly believed a notion that the best way to learn about a nation’s culture, history and identity is to eat like a local. I had no idea just exactly what this would entail in some corners of the world. “The cooked blood actually gives buchada its unique flavour,” said Pedro, a travel guide from São Paulo. What he was casually referring to was the “condiment” for a dish that is a palatable mix of goat’s stomach stuffed with the animal’s intestines.

They say you eat first with your eyes, and savouring buchada is difficult as it poses a number of visual hurdles. It is traditionally served as a greyish, soccer ball-shaped item in the middle of a plate, with coagulated blood as a side. Let us just say that had it not been for my inquisitive nature, I would not have stomached that delicacy.

After that, my South American escapade led me to the Chilean capital, Santiago. But I had a gut feeling that for the weirdest culinary experiences I had to venture out to the most rural towns in the country.

Putre is one of the northernmost towns in Chile, and some of the area’s most bizarre dishes have been jokingly attributed to its high altitude.

Directly translated, ubre asada is grilled udder. In Putre, they take pride in offering a gourmet version of the dish. Fresh, young cows’ udders are sliced thinly, lightly seasoned with salt and pepper, then grilled until they develop a golden brown colour. I learnt that the real taste test is that if cooked properly, the udders should have a tender texture while the edges are extremely crispy. (The rolling joke is that if you prepare it and it’s tough, then your udders suck.)

In Ljubljana, Slovenia, bear meat is a highlight for any foodie worth their salt. The capital city is known for its breathtaking Lake Beld, but a slight detour to some of the city’s markets can hold some welcome surprises.

Usually, an area will offer one or two weird dishes, but Slovenians pride themselves on package deals when it comes to unusual tastes. Butchers stuff sausage skins not only with rich bear meat, but also deer. Believe it or not, the best part of the bear is the paw, as it is fatty and soft, after it is slow-cooked overnight. These are washed down with a glass of intense orange (the fruit, not the colour) wine, which is a rather strange tipple, waking up your senses in record time.

Just when you thought you were done, the locals offer you beer ice cream, ensuring that this dessert helps you to forget that you have just savoured bear or deer meat.

There are days when I think that some of these escapades are the reason why I decided to become vegetarian. But then I quickly remember that I have also had some rather hairy experiences as a travelling herbivore.

Istanbul was where I first encountered vegetarian haggis. Traditionally, this is a savoury dish made from minced sheep organs such as liver, heart and lungs encased in the lining of the animal’s stomach.

For some confusing reason, Istanbul – which is a haven for vegetarians — offers a vegan-friendly version of this Scottish dish. Vegetables such as broccoli and brussels sprouts are mixed with oats, seeds and spices, then rolled up into artificial “sausage” skin. Although I have never tasted traditional haggis, I can confirm that this version is probably as unappealing as the meat-laden version.

I also blame confusion for the reason I landed up with an insect burger in Osnabrück. As a vegetarian for a mere month, I had no idea whether insects are considered meat or not, so I took a bite of Germany’s first insect burger.

This stack is made up of squishy buffalo worms and local insects, along with the normal bun, lettuce, onions and sauces. The taste of a crunchy insect complemented by a juicy worm is one of those memories that framed my entire trip to Germany.

Personally, when it comes to culinary tours, it is less about the taste and more about the fact that I tried something that I would never have conjured up in my wildest thoughts. Weird food is a window to a nation’s soul, and it is these untold stories that I relish the most.

Reluctantly, I still believe that the best way to learn about a nation’s culture, history and identity is to eat like a local.