Vietnamese people love chicken feet. There is so little meet on the feet that I just don't get it. It's one of those things that you have to chalk up as a cultural difference. The other night my frisbee friends bought a few kilos of feet and we went to town. After cutting the inside of my lip on a claw, I asked if anyone had nail clippers. The answer was no so I called it quits after three feet.
3 comments:
Promise I won't make these when you come home - unless you insist.
Let me get this straight: If I insist you'll make chicken feet? Well, I insist just so I can see you and Dad try them. I'm used to them...or as used to them as I could possibly be.
Never said I would try them.... the whole platter would be for you!!!
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