You know how sometimes you hear about these foods, and people talk them up like they’re some kind of magic potion? Well, I had my own little adventure with one of those: donkey meat. It wasn’t something I went looking for, not really. It kinda found me, thanks to old Uncle Wei.
This was a few years back. I was feeling properly knackered, just run down from work and not sleeping right. You know how it is. And Uncle Wei, who lived down the street, a real character, he got it into his head that donkey meat was the answer to all my problems. Every time he saw me, it was, “Ah, you look tired! You need some donkey meat! Puts fire in your belly, strength in your bones!” He had a whole list of these old sayings. Honestly, after the fifth time, I was about ready to try anything just to get him to talk about something else.
So, the great donkey meat experiment began.
First off, finding the darn stuff was a mission in itself. It’s not like you just pop down to the local Tesco and pick it up with your bread and milk. No, sir. I had to ask around, got sent to this little butcher shop in a part of town I’d never been to. Felt like I was buying contraband, the way the old guy behind the counter squinted at me. Finally got a piece, though. Looked… well, it looked like meat.
Then came the cooking. Now, I’m no chef. My idea of gourmet is not burning the toast. I looked up some recipes online, but they were all a bit fancy. So, I just sort of… cooked it. Like I would a piece of beef. The first attempt? Let’s just say it was chewy. Real chewy. Like, jaw-workout chewy.
- I didn’t give up, though. Mostly because Uncle Wei would have never let me hear the end of it.
- I went back to that butcher, got a different cut. The fella mumbled something about “stewing it slow.”
- So, I tried that. Put it in a pot with some onions and carrots and let it simmer for hours.
And you know what? It wasn’t half bad. Tender, a bit sweet, kinda like a leaner beef, I guess. Definitely better than my first try. We ate it for dinner a few times that month. My wife was a good sport about it, though I think she was just happy I was doing some of the cooking for a change.
But here’s the kicker: did it work? Did I turn into some super-charged version of myself?
Honestly? Not really. I mean, it was nice. It was food. I probably got some good protein, which is never a bad thing when you’re feeling run down. But did I suddenly feel like I could wrestle a bear or work 20-hour days without breaking a sweat? Nope. I still felt tired if I didn’t sleep. Still got stressed if work was manic.
It reminds me of my mate Dave. He spent a fortune on some special “alkaline water” machine. Swore it cured his bad back, gave him all this energy. He was going on and on about it. Then, a few weeks later, he let slip he’d also started doing those physio exercises his doctor had been telling him to do for months. But no, according to Dave, it was definitely the magic water. People love a quick fix, don’t they?
So, my big takeaway on donkey meat? It’s fine. It’s a type of meat. If you can get it, and you cook it right, it tastes pretty decent. It’s probably got nutrients, just like other meats do. But all that talk about it being some kind of miracle food? I reckon that’s mostly just talk, old wives’ tales passed down. I ate it, I lived. It didn’t change my life. It was just… dinner. I suppose it’s better than not eating, and it certainly beat that one time I tried fermented cabbage that tasted like old socks. Now that was an experience I’m in no hurry to repeat. Donkey meat, though? Yeah, it was alright. Just don’t expect it to solve all your problems.
