Today’s featured meal is marara, a disgusting appetizer of raw internal organs of sheep. It is served in Sudan, a huge, arid African country. The version pictured consists of raw sheep entrails with slices of onions.
Wikipedia says it is made of “sheep’s offal (including the lungs, liver, and stomach), onions, peanut butter, and salt. They are eaten raw.”
Other times, it is seasoned with lots of chili powder, rather than peanut butter. A man who traveled to Sudan explains, “Marara is a traditional hors d’oeuvre in parts of Sudan and is made up of raw sheep organs covered with chili powder.”
An American geographer who visited Sudan described how gross it is to eat it: “Waiting for dinner” in rural Sudan, “we tried to be the best of guests. A plate of ‘marara’ was served while the main food dishes were still being prepared.”
He was offered the marara by his host and felt compelled to try it, lest he
offend them by not being a gracious guest. I rationalized that “Maybe the chili powder will kill any living parasites or bacteria.”
I quickly scanned the array of blood fresh body temperature entrails including liver, heart, kidney, testicles, gallbladder and an unknown that I carefully chose because it seemed to be the smallest and least disgusting. (I learned later that is was the epiglottis.) Not wanting to delay the process by thinking about it too much and becoming sick with the thought of it, I popped the inch long organ into my mouth and began to chew. I wanted to get this over with and if I could break it down to a size that I could swallow, I would be done with this little ordeal.
To my dismay I found this tiny organ was like chewing on an inch of garden hose and what’s more when it came in contact with my saliva it began to swell. Finally, I bit down harder than usual creating enough pressure to squeeze out some kind of bile which squirted into my throat.
Desperately, fighting the urge to retch, as my mouth became fuller and fuller, I frantically tried to think of a way out. Finding none which I thought would keep me in the good graces of my hosts, I took one desperate gulp and the mass of glop slowly slid down my throat…
Back in Khartoum I related the experience to some of my Sudanese friends. They proceeded to gag and laugh and explained that they never eat marara and informed me that in fact, it would not have been considered offensive had I refused to eat it in the first place!
