The Mission
Track down a Cambodian delicacy prized for its health related benefits. Devour the reptile cooked two ways, drink the blood mixed with wine and swallow the pulsating heart, whole.
The squad
Mr C. - laddish Cambodian guide keen on trying this highly esteemed dish in his own country.
Mr W. - Chef/author - currently researching his new book on food along the Mekong river.
Mr J. - food investigator and bon viveur - currently pole-vaulting his culinary comfort zone.
Crammed on to one motorbike, three food explorers set off over the bridge, past the city limits and along an eternally straight road of rapidly diminishing lights. There was rumoured to be a specialist restaurant somewhere along this road but its very existence was hearsay amongst residents.
Like many local people, our driver, "Chhorda," had never eaten cobra due to its massive cost. That did not deter him from waxing lyrical about the benefits to the eyesight, lungs, skin and making you errrr "strong."
An hour of driving away from the capital and the road had transformed to the ubiqutous dusty, potholed dirttrack where packs of wild dogs (or were they wolves?) roamed.
Stopping at what looked like the Cambodian equivalent of the Bates Motel our guide asked a man smoking in a hammock about the restaurant. As two spindly prongs of lightening streaked across the dark sky above us, the bare chested man slowly gesticulated using his finger. We had come too far.
My resolve was being tested. I knew that this snake was responsible for more deaths worldwide than any other. My minds creative juices began whirring like a blender. What if they don't clean out the poision? What if it escapes the kitchen and bites me? Is the raw blood safe to drink?
Journeying back on ourselves for a short while, Chhourda pulled over to an apparently vacant wooden house.
There were no scooters outside, just one car and an invisible barking dog. Surely this couldn't be a restaurant?
Suddenly. in an oddly orchestrated way, people began appearing. First there were two curious little girls then a woman holding a naked infant. Finally man in his thirties wearing only jeans began chatting to Chhorda.
With a combination of nods, smiles and serious expressions, we were given permission to enter. We were led to the very back of the house and sat at a large table next to two other empty tables. Was this really a restaurant? It felt more and more like the Twighlight zone.
After further negotiation a price of 60 dollars was agreed for a medium sized cobra. This was on the basis that it was fresh. Oh it was fresh alright! The snake pit was located at the front of the family home in a chicken wire enclosure, guarded by a (very brave) dog. Keeping a safe distance we watched as a patterened, writhing serpent was lifted from the pit and marched promptly to the family kitchen.
Photographic evidence confirmed that the cobras were wild and caught by the females in the household. (so much for the men hunter-gatherer philosophy) They also had crocodile which, unlike snake is not typically eaten by Cambodians. In fact I read that Crocodiles were used by the Khmer Rouge as a way of feeding them human.
Back on the table and a jug of murky liquid had appeared along with a few unidentfiable bits and bobs. This was the warm blood mixed with wine.
Putting the possibility of convulsions and death out of my mind I took a sip. HERE WE GO........ the coagulating effects of the blood gave a light viscosity and a touch of saltiness to the brown-red liquid. There was a pronounced sherriness which was actually quite palatable.
When the little heart came out on plate with a cord still attached I let Ian do the honours. He said he could feel it beating in his throat as his washed it down in one gulp with the blood. The boy always had a penchant for the hardcore.
Caramelised sections of snake came sauteed with lemongrass, chilli and bitter leaves. What I didn't expect were the eggs! Once past the tough, rubbery outer casing the feta textured, yolkless eggs were not dissimilar to those from a hen. The snake proved to be a very meaty if somewhat tough. There was an art to sucking off any flesh from the multitude of bones. I really hate to say this but its taste was similar to dark chicken meat.
As a veggie interlude we were served a quite delicious Cambodian speciality. "Buykdaing Khmer" which is a toasty rice shell picked at with your fingers. Inside this bowl-shaped dish is chopped spring onion and egg yolks making it creamy inside but crunchy on the outside. It was very like chewy cheese and onion crisps.
Drinking light ginger root wine with a noticeable earthiness we waited for our snake soup to arrive.
Like many soups I have eaten in Cambodia this was thin and had a light chickeny flavour gleaned from the snake bones. Balance was attained through the sour addition of lime and lemongrass. Snakey bits were everywhere but this time the flesh was less tough.
Relief, satisfaction, awe and a fortunate experience were my thoughts although I anxiously pondered the notion of having eaten my final meal.
It was three days later when I learned that eating snake in Cambodia is illegal. It is not a dish I would need to try again anyway. I would rate Cambodian eel or any of their freshwater fish higher - and a lot less DEADLY.
