So, I got sick recently. When I am sick, there is nothing I like best than a bowl of steaming hot soup. Of course, gone are the days when Mummy's around to spoil the hell out of me and forget about asking my French husband to make Chinese soup. The French can never quite grasp the idea of drinking clear soup, what more attempting to cook something they don't believe in.
So, the only solution was for me to crawl out of bed to a nearby restaurant which serves fantastic tom yam soup. When I got there, I asked them for a small portion of soup for one. They told me that they only serve one size which can easily feed four. The thought of wasting all those yummy soup was too much to bear and so I asked them what sort of soup do they have for one.
The waiter told me that they have beef soup. I thought, ok why not? The Cambodians are quite famous for their beef soup and it's about time I tried something new.
After a few minutes, the soup arrived and it was steaming hot! Mmmmmm......I started digging in and while stirring the soup, I found every conceivable parts of a cow in the soup; tribes, tongues, hooves, blood, etc. That was enough to make me even more sick. For the longest time now, I could not make myself eat tribes, especially if you know how long it took me to start eating beef as part of my diet.
Nevertheless, I started drinking and surprisingly, the soup tasted good although I avoided the bits and pieces of meat that floated in the soup. Now, National Geographic channel was playing in front of me and at the same time, they were showing a calf being borne.
As I stared into the TV screen, watching the calf, covered in slimy amniotic fluid, hanging from its mother's rear and then dropped to the floor, I thought, that's it, I have lost my appetite.
Soup or not soup, it just felt weird having a cow in my soup.