Farm to frog

A sudden swing to Jurong Frog Farm on Saturday proved unpropitious. First of all, my duck was mildly disturbed to see such vast congregations of creatures that for some strange reason have acquired the status of a fowl. The green and gray things don't look at all like poultry and far from sweet, they sound like foghorns as they bellow in their stained 3x3 m enclosures. On a nearby ledge, a plastic container held what seemed to be not-too-fresh oozes of frog spawn, while tadpoles and froglets of varying sizes played in a filthy little aquarium. Two adults meditated in another plastic tank, looking non too pleased that they probably serve as exhibits A and B for pokey children than as sautéed entrées.

Through the window of an adjacent building, a worker could be seen stuffing skinned and scrawny legs into a supermarket family-size pack. It was somewhat disappointing though not to get to see how the beasts go from croak to fork. Do they have some humongous vat in which the frogs swim and expire with rising heat? Or do they just skin 'em alive and separate the legs from the writhing torso? My morbid curiosity must have disturbed one of the things as it leapt right out of its pen onto the ledge, prompting my duck to utter a ghastly scream that probably scared off the family who were the only other visitors that day. Shuddering from the prospect of the frog going the whole hog to plant a kiss on my duck, my fingers fumbled and failed to capture evidence of this assault. But it was enough to leave a lasting scar from the trauma and thought that the modest height of these pens is far from sufficient to prevent an invasion by a legion with the audacity of hop.

Comments

[Evie]

think they skin and dismember them alive or else not fresh?