A Bite of Experience Darina Michelle Laviene

After years of constant nagging, I finally gave in to my family's relentless pressure to try cooked pig intestines, or chitlins. Their smell, both sickening and overbearing, has made me steer clear from them every year. But, honoring a strong tradition, the family continues to make them. After the continuous comments of "C`mon just try it!" and "This sure is delicious, taste it!" from my family, I mustered up some bravery, got a fork and dove into a bowl of my grandma's chitlins. Time seemed to slow down as I brought the chitlin to my face. I noticed the disgusting smell lingering around me and realized that soon the stench would be in my mouth. I gulped. Moments passed I stared at the small, pale, wrinkled, reeking object. I felt alone, like I was facing an anxious crowd of spectators. Butterflies rushed into my stomach and I felt my palms become sweaty. I was completely unsure about putting it in my mouth, but I decided at that point to just go for it; my family anxiously looked on. I looked back with nervous eyes, and shoved it in my mouth.

I bit down once, then again and as I continued to chew, I fought against my gag reflex as the chitlin "juice" began to squirt, sending streams of the...