I ate mink whale today–it came on a shishkebob. Let me say right now that I would rather use the crusty toe of a vampire as a toothbrush. When choosing between a suckle at the Undead’s feet, versus a nice chomp of whale flesh, I have picked my team. And let me tell you that Team Undead is going to be hard to beat.
To describe: the whale was a burntish brown on the outside, but once you slice it open it is a deep, purplish, raw color. Whale blood drips out. The taste is a little beefy, but there is something else, an overwhelming background taste that’s hard to describe. Maybe it could be classified as putrefying fishiness. There was no doubt: not only was I eating whale, but I was eating rotten whale. I must have looked unhappy, because halfway through my meal, an elderly Icelandic bloke appeared at my elbow and crowed, “It’s good, yes? It’s very good!”
i was reading something about how the japanese government was refusing to give up whaling. and how the japanese people were refusing to eat whale. a reputedly awful taste, now confirmed.