Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Julia Child in Belize


This morning, I boiled a frog.

Not on purpose, of course.  To understand this, you will need some background on our living conditions:  First, we don’t have hot running water, so for bathing we boil water in an electric kettle to warm up our bath. Second, all our water is stored in a large vat outside which currently lacks a cover.  Frogs get into the vat, and then into our plumbing.  Daniel is occasionally surprised by a frog plopping out of the bathtub faucet and into his bath water, and more then one frog has been caught in- and survived- the spin cycle of the washer.

Anyways, apparently this unfortunate frog was included in the water I filled the kettle with this morning.  I did hear one loud croak, but thought it was coming from the washer, and inspected it without finding the frog.  When I was pouring the kettle into the bath, two stiff frog legs popped out of- and stuck in- the spout.  I admit it took me 30 shocked  seconds or so to  realize what had happened.  I stared at those little toes and could for the life of me figure out where they had come from.   Then I couldn’t decide whether to start laughing hysterically or freak out and scream.  As I was by myself, I settled for the less dramatic course of taking a few deep breaths and emptying the water and (fortunately) intact frog out the back door. 

So did that qualify as French cooking?

2 comments:

  1. well, to be french cooking, you're supposed to eat it! I liked the story of them getting into your bathtub, although I don't know how I would actually feel if one landed on me when I was naked and defenseless.

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  2. That is an awesome and well-written story! :)

    ReplyDelete

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