These are braised duck feet. Yuck! The thought of eating slow-cooked claw-y gelatinous chicken feet, feet that's been traipsing around in their own poo and digging up worms and such in dirt, grosses me out. These ducky ones with the stretchy web between the claws are a few notches up the make-my-skin-crawl meter. Ewwwww! But they made our pal G's farewell meal yesterday quite memorable. The boyfriend is going to lose his gross food-eating partner because G, the only white boy (person, really) that we know in Sydney who whole-heartedly embraces the Chinese way of nose-to-tail eating, will be moving permanently to Melbourne for work in a couple of days. It was the first time that they've both had duck feet (they ate the webby bits and proclaimed them "Delicious!"...yuck!) and I think it's something that they'll remember their good eating times by until their two-member club meets again. With me and G's partner, Mr R, on the other side of the table looking on with disgust, of course.
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