Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Mountain Oysters...Yum!





Nathan and I are hunting down in SE Kansas. One of the great corollaries to our hunting escapades is staying with our dear friends, the Blythes.

LeeBelle can cook some good grub, not the least of which is the latest batch of "Mountain Oysters"- fresh "picked" today!!! I like mine with ketchup (0f course) and some diet coke to wash 'em down.

6 comments:

Malcolm said...

This really testicled me. Hope you had a ball eating them. I think you are plain nuts. I go nads when I eat them.

Woody Woodward said...

So they taste just like chicken’! The raw ones look pretty rough but the fried up ones look like pretty darned appetizing. Hope you all get a great ole’ biggen. Sure is fine weather and I know that don’t help you but sure helps our business.

Sure like the mental picture of the "fresh picked" idea, but I bet the picken was mighty painful for the one getten picked.

jeff said...

I've eaten mountain oysters, and enjoyed them. But, this is the first time I've seen them raw. I'm not quite sure what to think...

jeff said...

Malcolm, that right there is funny.

Rick Calohan said...

All I kept thinking was how two yankees are out there in SE Kansas with a group of hunters who after a day of missing the big one go down to the local tavern and find on the jukebox the following song by Johnny Russell

Rednecks, White Socks and Blue Ribbon Beer

Songwriters: Holyfield, Wayland; Mcdill, Bob; Neese, Chuck

There’s no place I’d rather be than right here
With my rednecks, white socks and blue ribbon beer

The bar-maid is mad’ cause some guy made a pass
The juke box is playin’, there stands the glass
And the cigarette smoke kinda hangs in the air
Rednecks, white socks and blue ribbon beer

A cowboy is cursin’ the pinball machine
A drunk at the bar is gettin’ noisy and mean
And some guy on the phone says, “I’ll be home soon,
Dear”
Rednecks, white socks and blue ribbon beer

No, we don’t fit in with that white collar crowd
We’re a little to rowdy and a little too loud
There’s no place that I’d rather be than right here
With my rednecks, white socks and blue ribbon beer

The semis are passing on the highway outside
The four thirty crowd is about to arrive
The sun’s goin’ down and we’ll all soon be here
Rednecks, white socks and blue ribbon beer

No, we don’t fit in with that white collar crowd
We’re a little to rowdy and a little too loud
There’s no place that I’d rather be than right here
With my rednecks, white socks and blue ribbon beer

There’s no place that I’d rather be than right here
With my rednecks, white socks and blue ribbon beer

Woody Woodward said...

Jeff, what do you expect from a dumb Okie?