My experience with shark’s fin was, sadly, quite similar, and was further tempered by warnings that some species were now threatened with extinction and reports of “finning,” the cruel cutting off of the fins and release of the crippled fish to a slow and gruesome death. I also learned that, in much the same manner as the birds’ nest, after a long soaking, boiling, and rinsing, the fin was rendered without nutrition and nearly tasteless, contributing only a gooey consistency to the soup. It was chewy and had a pleasing texture, but it was the crab meat, roe, shrimps, sweet-smelling mushrooms and other vegetables, ginger, bamboo shoots, thinly sliced ham, shredded chicken and ginseng that gave the soup its flavor and anything approximating nourishment. Once again, I rushed home with my wife, who after a while said, “Ho hum.”
It was time to take a break and review. As I understood it, an aphrodisiac was any substance, animal, vegetable, mineral or, in the modern age, pharmaceutical, that was believed to stimulate a man’s or woman’s libido, increase sexual energy and performance, and in whatever way possible, enhance the enjoyment of sex. That sounded good to me, but was it reasonable to seek such warming support in food and drink?
Yes, it was true that Aristotle recommended parsnips, artichokes, turnips, asparagus, candied ginger, acorns bruised to powder and drunk in muscatel, that Ovid counseled a mixture of “pepper with the seed of the boiling nettle, and yellow chamomile ground up in old urine,” that the fifteenth century work, The Perfumed Garden suggested dabbing a paste of honey and ginger directly on the male organ to increase size, and that The Kama Sutra, the notorious Hindu guide to love, advised the firmness- or endurance-challenged to boil the testicles of a goat or ram in milk and sugar.
Interesting, yes, but like the birds’ nest and shark’s fin soup, what a hell of a lot of work, and some of it rather more yucky than I wished.
There was another possibility. What is termed “organotherapy” dated back at least to Roman times, when it was believed that eating a healthy animal’s organ might correct some nagging ailment in the corresponding human organ, a belief that continued to the present day. Thus, if eating foods that looked phallic made any sense—to the aforementioned rhino horn add deer antler, sea cucumber, and the geoduck, a clam that can weigh as much as seven kilograms and has a neck like a fire hose, all quite in demand in Asia—it seemed to me that it was time to kick the crusade one level higher—or lower, depending on your point of view—and try a dish or drink whose main ingredient was genitalia.
I confess I wasn’t inexperienced. Many years ago I ate the cojones of a loser in that day’s bullfight in Mexico City (deep-fried), in Singapore I slurped up a bowl of what was said to be turtle penis soup, and in Guangzhou, China, I once drank too much of what the menu described as Five Penis Wine, a liquid of dubious murkiness caused by what I was told were the empowering, powdered genitals of goat, dog, cow, deer and snake. Could I find such an uplifting food or drink in Amazing Thailand? Did I really want to?
It was on a random trip to the Samphran Elephant Ground & Zoo, some thirty kilometers west of Bangkok, that I found what I was looking for. Besides pachyderms, this sprawling, leafy compound also has numerous crocodiles on show. Now, I’ve never been overly impressed by these large, toothy reptiles in such a setting; they seem little interested in doing anything but soaking their scaly bodies in the cement sided pools or remaining equally motionless on the cement pads, their mouths agape. All that great stuff you see on the National Geographic Channel doesn’t happen in captivity.
However, on the way out of the wildlife park, as I passed a display of crocodile skin purses, wallets, shoes and belts, a trade that is permitted by the government for a few breeding farms, I asked if there were any edible products for sale, the clerk brought out some dried croc meat in a cellophane-fronted box, some dark beads that were identified as dried blood (good to relieve pain in the advanced stages of terminal disease, I was assured), and— voila!—what I was told was an adult crocodile’s penis.
“Make you strong!” said the clerk, unsurprisingly, telling me I was to grind it up in a mortar and stir the powder into a drink or soup.
My first reaction was disappointment. I found it hard to believe. The crocs I’d just seen lazing in the sun weighed nearly as much as pickup truck and what I was being offered for several thousand baht was about the size of my finger.
When my wife saw what I’d bought, she laughed. Champagne, black tea, sweetbreads, brains, kidneys, oysters, lobster and crayfish, caviar and roe, starfish, cuttlefish, smoked or salted mullet, anchovies, turtle, prawns, sea urchins, whelks, mussels, moral mushrooms, celery (what’s the full stalk look like?), red peppers, wild mint, pimiento, marjoram, parsley, roots of chervil and of fern, radish, lotus, pistachio nuts, cumin, thyme, sage, borage, walnuts, almonds, dates, quinces, musk, caraway, age, vanilla, clove, saffron, the blood of many creatures, dove and pigeon (because of their sensual courtship behavior)… the list goes on and on, and most of these foods are available in Thailand, where some people (people I’m certain are not friends of yours or mine) actually believe that there is priapic power in the consumption of mouse droppings. If even the more mundane in this list delivered what the myth extended, would it be any wonder that so many of us walk around in a constant state of lust?
What was needed in my search, I decided, was something more exotic, a food that would at the very least offer some true gastronomic adventure, without further endangering any of Thailand’s many threatened species. Here’s some advice from Dr. Schwann Tunhikorn, head of wildlife research for the Royal Forestry Department on the subject of tiger parts: “What people don’t realize is that most of the merchandise is fake. I have never seen a real tiger’s sexual organ in the market.” What is it, then? Dr. Schwann said many were carved from cattle tendon.
My wife and I knew we could do better, so we went to the Klong Toey Market, Bangkok’s largest outdoor food market, situated on the edge of the city’s largest slum but also within sight of the Stock Exchange of Thailand, so perhaps my purchase here would at least be as promising as buying shares in one of the Kingdom’s companies.
Just a few meters from the noisy traffic I met Kui Sai Lim, close to seventy years of age, the last dozen of which he has produced cobra-based tonic drinks and stir-fries. The customer selects a snake from one of several cages nearby, most a meter or more in length, some as thick as a man’s wrist and priced according to size, the largest for less than US$20. Enough, we were assured, to provide a healthy, stimulating stir-fry for two.
As my wife and I watched, the serpent was tied to a metal pipe, head up, its tail lashed to the supporting pole below. Mr. Kui then opened the serpent’s abdominal cavity with a sharp blade and drained the blood into a glass. A tumbler of strong rice wine was offered as a sort of chaser. The snake—still writhing— was skinned, cut into chunks and filleted, then chopped and cooked with fresh herbs, garlic and chilis.
The last of the cobra cocktail was consumed and that was followed by the usual dash back to my flat and the usual ho-hum and so-what, accompanied by the usual matrimonial smirk.
However unrewarded I may have been in my quest, I assured my wife I would not give up. This was, after all, a reasonable region of research and how could she say otherwise, when tens of thousands, maybe even millions of Asians obviously were better informed and more experienced?