Frogs for lunch!

I did it; I ordered frogs. I went to a small restaurant where they weren't so expensive, and I'm very glad I did. The menu said twelve. Twelve legs? Pairs of legs? I didn't know, but that sounded like enough. I had a choice of cream sauce or "persilee"; I had no idea what the latter was, but I'd had enough cream sauce already.

They came bathed in oil, garlic, and parsley. They were cooked in a batter, so they had a nice browned crust. They looked like miniature chicken wings. Much to my dismay, having pictured bullfrogs, these frogs were tiny. Each little wad of frog was a leg or even two legs, still attached to pelvis or collarbone. Each was about half bone and half meat, and all the bones and morsels of meat were tiny, tiny, tiny!

How to eat this? I've been taught that in France you do not eat with your fingers, so I dived in with knife and fork. What I really needed was a really tiny fork and tweezers, or perhaps a specialized tool like one gets with crustaceans. I tried using knife and fork to separate bones from meat. I tried putting both in my mouth and extracting the bones with my fingers (bad manners?). Everything I tried was the same -- EXHAUSTING! This was way too much work for very tiny meal.

You can't beat oil and garlic and parsley, so it tasted good at least. After I was done, I noticed moist hand-wipes at the table. Perhaps I was meant to pick them up with my fingers after all, like chicken wings. I'll never order them again, so I'll never know.