tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2189569786825847268.post4082782662153719249..comments2023-11-19T20:55:03.011-06:00Comments on I Was Crazy To Live In Reynosa: Hey Grandpa, What's For Supper?Crazy Ritahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02034624524218675347noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2189569786825847268.post-38553312990309865662011-11-19T13:42:15.163-06:002011-11-19T13:42:15.163-06:00I must say that I have never tried anything on you...I must say that I have never tried anything on your list. But my hubby has brought home an armadillo. I couldn't kill it or cook it so we gave it away.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17812276627962743467noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2189569786825847268.post-17840949583725476602011-11-05T20:19:14.499-05:002011-11-05T20:19:14.499-05:00Have to say cow brains. My dad would bring them in...Have to say cow brains. My dad would bring them in after butchering a cow....my mom would have to clean them up, then fry them with onions and bread crumbs. Yummy when you're too young to think about it. Decades passed, then found myself having a classy brunch with my new father-in-law, where they served...quesedillas de sesos. I passed.Davenoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2189569786825847268.post-75489900176311146652011-11-05T17:50:27.374-05:002011-11-05T17:50:27.374-05:00Damn you're braver than I am! Rattlesnake? M...Damn you're braver than I am! Rattlesnake? My Grandpa used to sneak venison into anything and then tell you half way in that you were eating Bambi. And then we'd cry our eyes out.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com