… something that appeared in some soups served to me by my baby-sitting maternal grandparents, something which I spooned around but never ate. Since moving to California, I’ve experienced it in menudo served in my first employer’s cafeteria during Cinque de Mayo, and for some reason it was tolerable that way. I did enjoy other fare served up by my grandparents, such as stuffed beef tongue (I’ve since given up red meats), and knishes (always split and slathered with mustard).
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