Lamb Brain for Lunch

At lunch today, Ian lifted my hand in his defeat of not finishing his half of the lamb's head. He dropped out after the eyeball. Win! Not that it was a competition, but I didn't run upstairs and disappear immediately after declaring defeat now did I? Nor did I scarf down dates because bulgar, bread and lamb brain was an insufficient lunch. Can you see the tuft of fur near the brain? To my delight Ian was actually entertained as I picked up the face and waved it saying, "Not by the hair on my chinny, chin, chin!" Because it actually still had a beard.

 I've never had the chance to try eating a brain before and am one step closer to being able to try absolutely anything (not that I can recall ever turning something down but I've heard there's something the Maasai in Simanjiro offer that's hard to swallow. I'll be ready!)

 Team, eating anything is all mental. To some people, like Claudia, the brain is the best part. Lucio said the eyeballs are "good", though he might have been just trying to bait me to eat it. I am now slightly skeptical when someone tells me something can be eaten because sometimes they're just messing with me and I eat it only to have them gasp and sputter, "you're not supposed to eat that!" as I'm gagging and it's already half-way down my esophagus. 

Upon first inspection, I maturely cried out, "This is like dissection in science class!" To which I received two blank stares from our hosts. "Do you dissect things in school in Italy?" No. No, they do not. 

As I was considering whether or not to shower tonight, Claudia sailed by and informed me we would be dining out for pizza tonight and there would be a lot of good-looking boys. "Better looking than Paolo?" I inquired. 

[Side story: Paolo appears to be the manager of the olive mill I went to last week with Lucio and Joe, who has since left us for another farm, but regardless, I was milling around shooting video when he gestured for me to join his conversation with Lucio and Claudia. I'd seen this before in Tanzania. It's always the same. "How many goats you want for her?" Joking. They usually just ask if I'd be willing to marry them and are mildly offended when I say no with my defense being their inability to meet my height requirements and the distance to ask my dad permission). Paolo is a bit more crude and to the point but luckily Claudia had encountered this side of Paolo as well and warded him off. I escaped at the first chance to sit in the chilly car with Joe where we compared mobile phone service providers, cars, and of course, sang as much of American Pie as we could remember. End of side story.]

Of course, I showered, put on the cleanest clothes I have which have only been worn at least three times already, and braided my long locks. Unfortunately, as Claudia duly noted, there were no attractive men or women to be found. "Nothing even nice to look at!" She exclaimed. Love her. Love her. Love her. 

As a final note, lamb tongue is better with salt and eyeballs taste a bit like snails. Bon appetito!