Crazy Chicken in Norcross (northeast suburban Atlanta) is my new favorite Ecuadoran rotisserie chicken place.
The other night the owner proudly showed me some color photographs of a roasted critter with a wonderful deep red brown color atop a bed of amarillo saffron rice.
Looked like pig, albeit a small pig. Maybe a piglet, I thought to myself.
"Pig?"
"No, no"
I looked some more. The ten watt bulb flickered.
"Guinea pig?"
"Si, Si. We make it for you on the weekend. You want?"
"No, no thanks".
The wildest food I've ever had was a hacked up timber rattlesnake, that we killed ourselves while fighting forest fires along the Delaware back in the Boy Scout Days. But into my sixth decade, I remain a guinea pig virgin. Has anyone ever had? What's it like? How do you tell a good one?
Chicago is my spiritual chow home