2004-02-12 - 9:01 a.m.
BOY did I dodge a bullet last night!
J and I will celebrate Valentine's Day in broke-ass fashion. Rather than going out, I will bust out my very best culinary chops and make things she really likes. Seafood pasta. Salad. Delicately steamed vegetables. A good white wine. And for dessert, crème brulee. Actually, I'll be making crema catalana, which is easier, but don't tell her.
Just for fun, I decided to score some duck eggs. Duck eggs have more fat in the yolks and longer protein strands in the whites. This translates to richer custards and really tall soufflés and meringues that don't collapse easily. In short, crème brulee of DOOM! Now, your ordinary supermarket usually doesn't carry duck eggs. You've got to go to the Asian markets. There are a number of good ones around here, both in the city proper and out in the county. I love these places; odd smells, exotic produce, weird body parts and all. The potential for nasty surprises does exist, especially with items labeled in Chinese, Vietnamese and Thai, but only occasionally in English. When in doubt, definitely ask.
In my quest for duck eggs, I went out to the Asian Seafood Market in University City. This is the place to go for fresh, and I mean FRESH, fish. Fresh, as in still swimming. You pick one out of the tank, and they do the rest. They also carry live crabs, lobsters, and frogs, along with the usual assortment of prawns, fish on ice, dried fish, and other goodies. I was after duck eggs, though, and I knew they carried them.
The eggs were easy enough to find; stacked in a cold case near the meats. Most of the labels were clear: chicken eggs both brown and white, black hundred-year eggs, chartreuse salted duck eggs. There was one stack of oversized eggs with no English label, just Chinese characters and the Vietnamese name, and a price. They looked to be the right size, but just to make sure, I asked one of the employees.
Funny thing: most of the people actually doing the work in these stores are Latinos. The managers are Thai or Vietnamese or Chinese or whatever, but their employees are usually Mexicans. This works in my favor, because I can ask detailed questions and not worry about a language barrier.
Me: Pardon me, sir, are these duck eggs?
Him: Yes, but I don't think you want these.
Me: Really?
Him: Yeah, there's a little duck in there.
Aha. Now the lack of the English label was clear.
Baalut.
The infamous "treat with feet". Filipino "betcha he won't eat THIS" food. Now, I'll eat just about anything, but I draw the line at, certain CNS or reproductive organs, canned peas, and mature embryos.
So, no duck egg crème brulee this year. I'm just very glad I asked first…
