I grew up in South Louisiana. I married Cajun and saw my kids raised Cajun. As a result, you can’t tell me much about exotic culinary fare. The resourceful people of Louisiana are renowned for their creative preparation of anything that’s remotely edible, from pigs feet to beef tongue to gar fish to stuffed pork stomach and dozens of other tasty delights that, to the taste of the American masses, would seem questionable at best, disgusting at worst.
So when my family was introduced to Rocky Mountain oysters 14 years ago on a visit to a childhood friend in Colorado, we weren’t as skittish as a lot of folks are at the idea of trying out this regional delicacy. (If you don’t know what Rocky Mountain oysters are, look it up–I’m sure Google will explain. I’m pretty sure the recipe is a cowboy thing). The RMOs we tasted were batter fried and, like almost everything fried in hot grease, they tasted pretty good.
Rocky Mountain oysters served at the Wapiti Pub in Estes Park
On vacation last week in Colorado, my son, who was a college student when we first tried the dish 14 years ago, came to Colorado committed to sampling RMOs once again. He went online and searched the menus of eateries in Estes Park. He found the Wapiti Pub, which offers RMO’s as an appetizer. So last Saturday for lunch we sought out the Wapiti and ordered our appetizers before our main courses. My daughter-in-law and granddaughter had never eaten RMOs, so they were baptized to the experience.
We all were pleased with our choices, although I believe our satisfaction was as much about being brave enough to consume RMOs as it was about how good they taste. They taste fine, of course, but I would draw this line: I will NEVER trade a mess of fried RMOs for a mess of real Louisiana fried oysters.
But, I may have them again next time I dine at a Colorado restaurant that serves them. Eating Rocky Mountain oysters makes me feel adventure, and Colorado’s all about that.
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