Blogging Pubbitch

I think I mentioned in one of the previous entries that part of the deal for our room were free lifts into town, and this onerous duty was normally done by a chatty 19 year old who worked at the guest house. He'd spent 3 months or so training to be a guide at Angkor, and his English was supurb, as was his knowledge of the local area and town. On dropping us off anywhere, he would take the time to ask us when we would like a lift back, and sure enough, at the right time, he'd be there with someone else to cart us back home.

Now, one night Holly and I managed to misjudge how long we'd be in town and were mid-way through a beer (hard to imagine I know) when our fellow arrived. So we invited him in, bought him a drink and had a chat with him about little and everything. The following day, as we staggered out to meet the dawn (literally, it was barely 5 in the morning) he invited us to come and join him and a friend for a meal. A Cambodian meal in a Cambodian restaurant, one, furthermore, that wasn't visited by westerners. We leapt at the chance and agreed to meet back at the guest house early that evening.

Come the evening, we were whisked away by speeding motorbike to a dark, unpaved part of town and a restaurant sitting on a dirt floor with a tarpaulin roof, packed with Cambodians. The only dish on the menu was a delcicious soup filled with noodles, brought in a clay pot and seated on a gas ring at the table. Around this soup, plates of vegetables, mushrooms, meat and egg were placed, and these were slowly fed into the soup which was kept at a gentle simmer. You spooned some of the soup into your bowl and then added spices to suit how hot you liked your food.

Now, one of the ingredients that went into the meaty pot that I was eating from was "cows' toenails", which are considered something of a delicacy, I'm told. I was filled with no small amount of trepidation when one of these morsels of meat made its way into my bowl, and our friend and his (a Mr Diamond) watched me, egging me on to eat it.

So I did.

For the record, cow hoof is chewier than normal meat, but much less so than gristle, which it also has a superior flavour to. I think that I'll rate it with chickens' feet --- not bad to eat, but for crying out loud! It's something's foot! It has not been shielded from being covered in dung and muck by a decent wall of skin, but instead has been downtrodden all its life, spending its time grubbing around in the mud!

Ah, and as for Mr Diamond, he used to be a monk until his parents pointed out that he was an only child, and they expected grandchildren. The poor soul is now finding out the wonders of alcohol and meat, though not cigarettes, because the Cambodian Buddhist monk smokes like a chimney. He's a quiet, shy man, but we liked him too and made a point of chatting to him given half a chance when we bumped into him later.