Frog Face

Usually a playground term to describe many of my first girl friends, this blog title actually refers to what I encountered on my walk home from the gym last night. Having caught up with the family at the pool (I had been at the studio in the day) we headed home because of the torrential rains and thunder storms that have become the summer norm in this humid city.

As we passed the shops and stalls of wulumuqi lu, my attention was caught by a polystyrene tray dowsed in blood. This in itself is not unusual- nearly all the market shops at the lower end of wulumuqi lu sell live meat of one kind or another, and the patrons regularly crouch on the pavement to gut, skin or dice whatever fish or innard happens to have caught the attention of a hungry Chinese worker on their way home. This was the first time, however, that I had seen the frog seller actually preparing his fare- the huge bull frogs huddled in netted bags always seem a particularly slow seller, but I dont know whether they are priced out of the regular dinner range, or whether they just taste about as good as they look (I rather suspect the latter)- anyhow this was the first time I'd seen this marketeer in action. In his polystyrene tray were the usual pools of watery blood and random meaty scraps, but I was delighted to see neatly arranged along one edge, loosened froggy faces, deftly skinned from their neckless bodies and saved on one side, broad mouths almost smiling. Again, my limited domestic culinary skills mean that I am still in the dark as to whether they are saved as a delicacy, or because they are distasteful or poisonous. Call me Mr Fussy if you will, but I hope I never find out.