I did not accidentally ingest any slugs. That’s the disclaimer.
I got a huge bok choy from my produce vendor, fresh from a farm in the next state over. Why? Because I ordered a bok choy. I expected a big one, I just didn’t realize how big it would be. I put it in the refrigerator and left it there for several days. What to do with the enormous bok choy? There are only two of us. I looked up bok choy on Epicurious.com. All the recipes are for Shanghai bok choy (green stem bok choy or baby bok choy) and while they could be adapted for a huge bok choy, it seemed like too much trouble. I searched blogs for bok choy recipes. I still had an enormous bok choy in my fridge.
Finally, I had to do something, so I pulled it out. There was a slug on it. Okay. I’m a grown up, I threw that leaf away. It was on the outside anyway. I started to peel back the layers. Another slug. Ugh. Are the slugs dead or just tired from being in the cold? I started to freak out. They’re just escargots without shells, right?
Another slug. Shudder. Find husband. Conversation goes like this:
- Me: You are going to have to clean and cook the bok choy because it has slugs in it.
- Him: Um, okay. What are we going to do with it?
- Me: Dunno, but there are slugs in it. They’re just in there. (Making undulating motions with body.)
- Him: Okay, we can cook it. We have to clean it anyway.
- Me: You have to cook it, but I might not be able to eat it now. There were slugs in it.
- Him: Okay, I’ll take care of it.
- Me: They left slime tracks on it. (Extremely rude comment deleted in case my mother reads this.) I’m really freaking out now.
- Him: Are you going to be able to eat this at all?
- Me: Maybe if we boil it in bleach?
- Him: This should go in the blog.
- Me: Listen. (Making Lewis Black finger gestures.) There are slugs in it.
- Him: I will take care of it.
- Me: (Leaving room and heading to bar to mix a drink.) Uh-huh.
- Him: (Calling after me.) This should go in the blog.
South of the Border
- 3 parts tequila
- 1 part coffee liqueur
- 2 parts lime juice
Pour over ice. Stir. Sip. Try not to think about slugs.
Back to the bok choy and what I am now calling “Free Range Escargots”:
Calm down. Write blog post of conversation. Go back in kitchen to look at bok choy. No slug. It moved. Apparently, it was not dead, just cold. Grab bok choy by leaves, run squealing from house and put it on the front step. It falls open. Another slug. I know this one is different, because it’s smaller than the others. Squeal again.
I am now convinced that the slug in the trash can is going to climb out and do, what, exactly?, in my kitchen when I’m not looking. Maybe some of the other slugs escaped and they are in my refrigerator, too. The original bok choy is on the front porch, waiting for my husband to do something with it.
Update: My husband has finished cleaning the bok choy. The official count: three large “free range escargots”, two small “free range escargots”, one pill bug, two green caterpillars. I told him the first large slug was looking for me and I am scared. He was unimpressed.