The waiter had said that it was a seasonal French delicacy loved by French children. He called them Truffles, I call them junk. They tasted like dirty feet, not that I’ve ever licked someone’s dirty feet, but if I had, their foot would have tasted like French Truffles. I always thought that Truffles were a type of chocolate candy thing.
It was all I could do to force myself to eat one of the chewy balls, but that was all I could get down. I made it a point to not make eye contact with the waiter when he came to take our plates.
Sure enough, Mr. Rawnwe returned a moment later and this time he addressed me first. “What did you think of the Truffles?”
Without looking up at him, I shook my head ever so slightly.