UPDATE: Roasting the frogs! Erm... That's not the French by the way...

What the frog looked like before
its' heinous murder

Remember back in November 2010 when Ed Carlos, the Frogfinder General, and I went hunting for frogs? Well at that time I was unable to eat the 'delicacies' as I was going to the farm the next day... Drat!

As it turns out, the Frogfinder General had been keeping all of the frogs in his freezer. After receiving quite a few threats from his wife about them, he decided that he was fed up with 'holding onto them for a friend' and dumped them in our freezer. Well, last night we decided to finally crack them out and give them a try!

So, Ed Carlos, a few friends, and I headed to a bar to watch the Vasco Vs. Flamengo game and drink a few beers. This was largely because the house was going to be a 'man-free' zone that night due to Ed Carlos's missus' baby shower (or 'baby tea' as they call it here. Babies are well known for their adoration of tea - didn't you know?), that and the landlord promised us he was going to cook the meat for us.

So settling in, we drank a few beers, and finally our meat arrived at our table:

 

As you can see, they don't look much like frog any more. They didn't look half bad in fact... So we tucked in. How did they taste? Rather predictably, exactly like chicken. That said, I felt slightly odd picking away at and chucking away the very small bones. There was only so long I could pretend I was a giant eating a normal sized chicken. Still I managed to finish a fair portion.

The guy walking up to the bar in the white shirt in the video said he had been drinking straight for two weeks. I managed to convince him that the frog meat was in fact beef (at least for a second). He took one bite on realisation that it was frog the look on his face was a picture... One that I failed to catch regrettably.

After we'd all had our fair share of the delight we passed it back to the landlord for him to eat. You could read into that that no one actually liked it, but you'd be wrong. We carried on drinking and watching the game (in which regrettably Flamengo won), and then headed back home. 

Much to the chagrin of Cristina I was quite drunk. Still, at least I wasn't as bad as white shirt man who after falling asleep at the table promptly got up, got on his bike (after two unsuccessful attempts), and headed down the hill to never be seen again.