When we asked readers to send us their missionary-food stories, our e-mail box filled up. Below is a sample of responses we received. Enjoy reading, and make sure your stomach is settled in for these stories, shared in the spirit of good fun but also with a sense of reverence and respect for different cultures. — E-mail: ashill@desnews.com

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On the southern tip of the South Island of New Zealand is a city known as Invercargill. There, on the watery edge of the Faveaux Strait, I was challenged by some Maori church members to eat what they considered to be a delicacy — sea eggs. They look like small coconuts — brown, about the size of your fist, with long sinewy fibers and dripping with sea water. A good brother cracked one open for me and said: "Try it. It's delicious."

The inside looked exactly like an egg with a large yellow yolk cuddled in a clear, slimy, jellylike goo. I hesitated, thinking that I was being set up. But what the heck. I knew I would only be here once, and since my mission was nearly over, it would be the last time I could ever try such a "delicacy."

So I went for it, lifted it to my mouth and swallowed the whole thing in one gulp. It tasted like spoiled moss. Not that I have ever tasted spoiled moss, but if I had I'm sure that's what it would taste like. Everyone was laughing and guffawing, roaring and slapping their thighs and holding their sides because they hurt from too much frivolity.

I gagged it down — barely. In spite of the embarrassment of nearly throwing up, I felt a very small measure of satisfaction for the enjoyment I brought them because of my facial contortions while swallowing the slimy egg.

But who gets the last laugh? Poetic justice raised its hoary head the next day when three or four Maori brethren became very sick because they ate sea eggs that had been sitting in a 50-gallon drum for too many days.

Joe Spendlove
New Zealand Invercargill Mission

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I served my mission in the beautiful country of Holland in the early 1970s. Before leaving for Holland, the missionaries were told of all of the wonderful Dutch pastries, cakes and cookies that we could look forward to eating.

Upon my arrival, I was assigned to serve in the beautiful city of Haarlem in the north part of Holland.