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Who’s Gonna Eat Your Wild Horses?

We’ve seen a lot of horses grazing by the roadsides on our way from Almaty to the Kyrgyz border. Sadly, a lot of these fine steeds are not destined for the Grand National at Aintree or a lifetime of lazy equestrianism, but rather the dinner table for Sunday lunch. Horsemeat is quite a delicacy in Kazakhstan, as evidenced by its presence in the deli section of major stores. *

There’s canned horsemeat or fresh ; smoked ham style; even the choice of some beautifully vacuum-wrapped horse penis should one want something a little more exotic. I’ve decided not to include a photo of the latter item as it might disturb some readers (i.e. our mothers), and because the shopworkers might have wondered what kind of perverts we were if we’d been wandering round the local Tesco-ski, gleefully snapping pics of chopped-off horse genitalia.

Instead, here’s a lovely pic of some garden-variety equine activity in Bishkek.


DISCLAIMER: No horses or hedge-rows were harmed during the writing of this article.

* P.S. don’t get me wrong: I’m not slagging the Kazakhs off for this. The French eat horse, and far weirder things; Koreans dine on dog; and the Chinese, as we’ve previously seen, think nothing of throwing whole rabbits and chickens – heads, feet and all – into their stews. Everyone has their own idea of culinary acceptability. It’s just unusual to me, and I like to write about the unusual.

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