Yeah, right. The snake oil salesman stands there with something disgusting in a spoon and promises that it “tastes like chicken.”
That’s what someone told me when the frog legs were served. They weighed in at Little Lottas thunder thigh price, cheesecake-fed to fatten for the kill.
Never mind all those snakes and reptiles that hit the steamy boiling water, my six-year-old grandson’s final word about chicken is that he doesn’t like it, “‘cept when it comes out of a turkey.”…thewritehag.com
