the Feast.

that’s me, and yes, in fact, that IS a cooked lamb’s head (surrounded by its own intestines, braided for presentation) on my plate.

we were invited to a friend’s house to celebrate some other guests who came over from a nearby country. even still, because i was the oldest in attendance (at a spry 32), i was delegated the honor of slicing up the meat, which happened to still be attached to the skull of a young lamb.

i won’t say it was easy, or that i did a very good job. but, i did do it. it involved splitting the face down the middle, cutting off the cheek meat, the ears, and slicing out the tongue. the only part I wasn’t able to follow through on was the eyeballs: i carefully started cutting and realized, quickly, that i had approached that particular task incorrectly. i’ll spare the details.

there are other, more ‘in-the-process’ pictures, but i’m just not convinced anyone really wants to see those. honestly- i was honored. in this culture, usually only older fathers or grandfathers get to ‘split the head.’ surely an experience i won’t be able to forget…