Liv named the mouse, which Ben doesn’t understand, and I agree with him. I was invited to lunch with a family in Peru once, and the delicacy (following the ever-present soup) was roast guinea pig. The family kept them in a cage in the backyard and served them on Sundays and special occasions. I asked if they named them and the mother said, “Oh no, not the ones we eat.” In case you’re wondering, it was similar to a small bird, like quail or pigeon. The meat was good but the skin was tough and you had to pick the meat out from the bones.
Liv named the mouse, which Ben doesn’t understand, and I agree with him. I was invited to lunch with a family in Peru once, and the delicacy (following the ever-present soup) was roast guinea pig. The family kept them in a cage in the backyard and served them on Sundays and special occasions. I asked if they named them and the mother said, “Oh no, not the ones we eat.” In case you’re wondering, it was similar to a small bird, like quail or pigeon. The meat was good but the skin was tough and you had to pick the meat out from the bones.