Comments about ‘Missionary food stories: Called — and served’

My mission was different in that my home was in Australia and I served in the Northern California Mission and on my very first night in the mission field my companion and I were invited to dinner with a family who lived in Rocklin California, ( This was 1961). I was told that the meat dish we were served was short ribs( I had never heard of it before) lots of bones with a little meat attached, smothered in a thick sauce. There was something rather familiar about those bones --- and then it hit me what they were in Australia. Canned pet food had not come to Australia at that time and the usual routine was to get sixpence worth of dog food from the butcher --- which was the same as short ribs. With that in mind I was a little hesitant to chow down. However the sauce made it taste ok and my summation at the end of the meal was that the Aussie dogs had been getting a pretty good deal.

My son leaves for the MTC in Sao Paulo next Tuesday. Thanks for a great article. I'll be reading it to him this morning as we begin to pack the big black suitcases!

While I lived in South America, I used to have the missionaries over for lunch. Being aware of these stories, I tried to server "normal" food: salads and meat: chicken, pork, beef. Living in the city and being mid-class kept the missionaries away from the "delicacies" of our culture.

When I moved to USA, I was invited by one of the missionaries to his home for a special dinner. Thinking that I was about to taste the best of the best of the American food, what a surprise was to find they cooked a "scotish" delicacy. That ubber with blood that is mentioned in this article. Like a missionary, I put my best face and eat it all. Now I know how they feel.

I was never able to be near it but apparently the Sour Herring the Swedes eat is so potent they eat it outside, so as not to taint the entire house with stench.

I was able to eat stewed Reindeer in central Finland; even after stewing for most of a day it was still pretty tough. It was a very tame tasting game meat (I'm sure those who come to Utah on missions and who eat the local venison are surprised at the taste).

I served in the Philippines Cebu mission and while I was every night in almost every area a many would walk around yelling "Balut". One day my companion said lets try it, so we ran out and caught him, a lot like the ice cream man here, and bought one each. They turned out to be a favorite of mine throughout my entire mission. If you don't know what they are, then you would be surprised. They are a partially incubated chicken or duck egg then it is cooked. So while eating it there is a chunk of meat in the middle and many times a beak or feathers.
Much to my surprise when I got home and a few years later this seemed to be a favorite on "Fear Factor!"

I am grateful I served in Sao Paulo for many reasons, but one is that the food was not too strange. I came to really like rice and beans, and feijoada, and lots of fruits.

Nothing like going to a barbeque and looking over the ribs and steak cooking along with several feet of the cows intestines roasting on the grill.

Every missionary who dealt with anyone outside of their own culture probably ate something that appeared "strange". I'll never forget Christmas Eve and a member walking over to a pig that was being spit roasted. He reached into its mouth and pulled out the tongue. After taking a bite he offered it to the four missionaries standing there. Don't know if I'd do it again but it was actually pretty good. Lots of stories of "different" foods that actually ended up being "ok".
Greg San Juan Puerto Rico

I had to quit reading about halfway through, (getting a little green around the gills)...but a very interesting article.

I always knew missionaries made sacrifices, but wow!

Our state-side missions are sorely unrepresented here!! I served in the Pennsylvania Harrisburg mission and while serving in my first area a wonderful family invited us for supper. On the menu was Hog Maw. They take a pig stomach and stuff it with potatos, carrots, etc and ironically...sausage. It is baked whole and broken open when served with the stomach as part of the dish. I did actually try it once. Rather chewy. But then I swallowed rather quickly. Our friends got a great kick out of it. The one dish I managed to avoid was scrapple. All of the leftover bits of the animal coursely chopped and held together by what looked like thick gelatin.

YOU KNOW THE OLD SAYING."WHEN IN ROME DO AS THE ROMANS DO"

Great article. Thanks for pulling this together, Aaron.

Being a risky eater I tried anything I could get my hands on in Southern Brasil. Going to a members house for dinner one day I smelled what I thought was a busted sewage pipe. Their plumming was fine but I discovered the source when the meal came. They had gotten a hold of Capibara meat which is a river rodent that looks like a hog sized guinea pig. It tasted as bad as the smell.

I did have a chance to try it on two other occasions. Once it was improperly prepared and actually tasted good, like strong pork.

I served in San Jose, Calif. where in some neighborhoods there is not a stray animal in sight, and they were frequently strung up in the back yard or an apartment balcony, like deer here in Utah or my native Texas.

I got the chance to eat with people from a number of different countries and cultures: lots of wonderful Mexican food, the Guatemalan food was similar, the Samoan was good and plentiful, the Laotian was "interesting", and many more.

One of the strangest things we ate was a Thai curried chicken soup, with ALL the chicken. It was good luck to get a foot and the head was a special delicacy.

Once of the worst things I ate was a Nicaraguan tamale. They took an entire head of pork, cooked it in a big pot until the meat came off the skull. Then they took out the bones, and mixed everything up with raisins, prunes, sliced carrots, and loads of cornmeal. Then they wrapped everything in a banana leaf and boiled it. The whole thing was a big, soggy, slimy, disgusting mess. It was a special bonus to get an eyeball in your tamale.

What an adventure!

I served in Guayaquil, Ecuador. We had a branch missionary leader who owned a chicken farm and restaurant and he invited us to eat there every Friday for lunch. I thought we'd be getting a great chicken dinner, but when we showed up he gave us some yellow goo wrapped in a banana leaf. Suspended in the yellow goo were chunks of rubbery, chewy, light yellow things. I spent several minutes eating and trying to figure out what I was eating and decided, "Oh, it's chicken skin. Chicken skin cooked in grated plantain bananas." On further inspection, it turned out that I was wrong. It was cow stomach or "mondungo" in grated plantains. I don't know which was worse, a plate of cow stomach or a plate of rubbery chicken skin. Either way, that's what his restaurant served every friday for lunch and we had a standing appointment. You just grin and bear it and thank goodness for rice.
My cousin tells stories of his mission in Montreal, eating frozen raw carabou meat dipped in clarified seal fat and gnawing the meat off a roasted beaver leg, both First Nation delicacies.

While on my mission is Mississippi I never ate it but I had compainions that were fed squirrel. nothibng like good ole road kill right lol.

One of my favortie memories of a mission to Sao Paulo Brazil in the late 80s was sitting down to lunch with a sweet, humble member family. After the blessing, the mother brought out a plate of fried chicken - I'm sure it must have been more expensive than their budget would have allowed. Anyway, on the top of the plate were some pieces of chicken I hadn't seen fried before - two feet and the head. The children quickly reached for these, and the mom scolded them, telling them to 'leave the good parts for the Elders'. The children bowed their heads, a little ashamed, and my companion said, "it's ok, sister, let the kids have those parts if they want them." The mom agreed and smiles lit up the kids faces as they took the feet and head. We ate the 'normal' parts and had a great meal. It was fun because we didn't have to eat what was strange to us AND the kids thought we were pretty cool.

My worst food experience in the France Paris Mission came not from the members but from a fellow American missionary who once served us dog food for breakfastrather gristly and fatty. Hed purchased it from the local butcher who made his own concoction and the missionary didnt know what it was when he bought it even though it was clearly marked.

please don't make up some of these stories to make it funny. Cultures around the world are already fascinating and no need to add any spice to it. Thank you.

In the Book of Mormon it talks about the Lord making the meat sweet so they were able to eat it. I guess the Lord blesses the missionaries that they will be able to tolerate the food where ever they go.