I enjoy good crispy food. I enjoy good spicy food. I enjoy good food. At some points, I even enjoy good pusit, or squid, especially when it is
crispy and/or spicy. It’s extra good when it is done teriyaki style, and depicted as a delectable looking orange hued crispy thing on an equally orange hued vacuum sealed SeaKid bag, courtesy of the Philippines, land of fried meat snacks.
When I discovered this delectable looking bag of presumed deliciousness, I was thrilled, under the impression that all of my unhealthy snack yearnings would be fulfilled. Just the mere presence of the warm shade of sunburst on the bag gave me hope for a delicious culinary journey. I anxiously awaited my return to the AFC headquarters so I could pop open the enticing package and enter some sort of a culinary Nirvana, complete with a religious reawakening and ensuing revelation. Maybe I was hoping for a spontaneous combustion complete with a reincarnation as some sort of cholesterol filled caloric deity that lorded over all squids, squid products, and short order cooks. Regardless, I was excited.
I finally got home, and immediately moved to open the perfectly proportioned repository of pusit. I did so, and took an immense whiff of the squid space.
I was knocked back by the tremendous scent. But…this scent was not some heavenly experience complete with harp-playing angels and divine experience. No, it was an odor reminiscent of an abandoned but unemptied fish market left to swelter in a thousand suns before being marinated in the East River, dragged through the streets of Cleveland from a 60 year old semi-truck that hadn’t passed emissions, and shipped to the Philippines and back in the mouth of a shark.
But…but….as bad as the smell was, I’m experienced enough in the field of foreign food to know that smell is not necessarily indicative of flavor.
So, I took a closer look at the teriyaki spicy crispy squid. First, it was not a delightful shade of persimmon. Rather, it vaguely resembled an over-ripened acid-soaked tamarind fruit, a sickly dark brown color with the ever-present smell to boot. Still, I’m familiar with false advertising. A fast food burger looks nothing like is advertised but it still has some redeeming flavors. So, I went ahead and had a piece of pusit anyways.
Remember my description of my religious reawakening? Well, it happened. But not because the taste was so good. Rather, it was so awful, I burst into flames, descended into the depths of the sea, quenched the fire, reascended, and landed back at HQ. They were revolting. There was no semblance of teriyaki flavor, nor was it particularly crispy or spicy. It became an odd powder when bitten into, and the taste was very similar to the smell in that it was horrendous. Now, I have to make animal sacrifice to the ocean gods just so I can be spared from any future experiences with SeaKid Crispy Spicy Pusit (Teriyaki Style).