I have always been a sucker for foods that involve “jelly.” They’ve always sparked thoughts of cold, wiggly bowls of Jell-O in summertime, or perhaps a sweet spread of strawberry preserves on toast. Naturally, when the Jurong Frog Farm advertised, “snow jelly,” they had my undivided attention.
Snow = nice! Jelly = delightful! But oh, this Midwestern, Jell-O slurping pastry cook could not have been more wrong. While independently snow and jelly may sound as harmless as kittens and bubblegum, together they are to be avoided.
The frog element of this excursion should have given me a clue. The woman working at the frog farm store offered me a thimble-sized taste of the jelly brew. As the taste transferred from her hands to mine she said, “It is a great Chinese remedy made from the female reproductive organ of the frog.”
At this point, the amphibious female privates floated in front of me in a sugary syrup. Supposedly, it was to be eaten as a dessert, but nay – no chocolate, nor honey, nor dollop of whipped cream could correct this misfortune.
Not wanting to be rude, I took the tiniest of tastes and I knew I would never be able to look Kermit in the eye again. The drip of syrup coated my mouth in a way that caused me to frantically scrape my tongue against my top row of teeth. Was it psychosomatic or was my mouth becoming numb? Clearly, I was going to die.
“Try some,” I promptly handed the vessel over to my boyfriend. Who was I to deny him of a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity? I smiled. His eyes became equally as pained as the fluid passed his lips.
After thanking the dear lady at the frog farm and then chugging a half-gallon of water, we started making plans to find the nearest curry puff, fried noodle, or anything to rid our memories of the froggy-nad.
To find a frog legs, I recommend the Jurong frog farm. To find a proper jelly, please spare yourselves the sorrow and travel to THIS website.