“Like dried baby goat. Or perhaps – I know – like veal, like the veal of a baby suckling calf, only drier.” This is how Princess Mary of Denmark’s royal father-in-law Prince Henrik describes dog meat.
The Hairy Bikers couldn’t decide whether it tasted like Pork or Duck.
J warned me off this delicacy so I can’t tell you what I thought of the taste. I may have eaten it without knowing. I just don’t know. What I can tell you is that it is a very rich meat and not good for you if you have arthritis or gout.
Anyway, there I was walking through the market and these carcasses were piled up. I just wanted to get away. Hence the poor photo. There are many better ones here taking you through the whole ritual.
Eating dog is a way of life in Hanoi. Ten kilometers north of the city is Pho Nghi Tam, a 1km stretch of about 60 dog meat restaurants. This places buzzes towards the end of the lunar month when the locals eat dog for good luck (conversely it’s bad luck at the beginning of the month).
Back in the Old Town our waitress tells us that when she’s had bad things happens she’ll go out with her friends and eat dog. And then she feels good.
Should we feel sorry for the dogs? Well, they are bred on farms like farm animals, not domestic pets. They are killed quickly with a knife slasing the throat.
And that’s better than cats get. They are dumped, live into boiling water.
Yeow!
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