A lot of strange things have been in my mouth over the last 57 years: the doggy poo when I was three, canned spinach I was forced to eat at seven, the Polident denture paste when I was 25 (never brush your teeth in the dark in your parents’ bathroom). I have tried canned snails atop a dollop of mayonnaise and actually chewed and swallowed. But now I try not to eat anything I cannot readily identify.

So of course, at our usual Wednesday night dinner, I ate alligator. It was sitting on the serving plate next to a nice recognizable pile of cod. Yum. I was told the lumpy, lightly-breaded and fried turdy-looking pieces were alligator. And everyone was “ooh, ahh, alligator!” over it and I kind of fell to the peer pressure around me, the strawberry daiquiri helped.

I have nothing personal against alligators. I actually have eight of them living in the pond behind my house. They swim through the creek where my boat is docked. So what if they look like escapees from the “Jurassic Park” movies, have big pointy teeth and occasionally eat small dogs, children and unsuspecting short adults.

Go online, and you’ll find hints on how to get your gator ready for your favorite recipe. The hint I think most helpful is to beat the hell out of your gator tail with a meat mallet to make it tender. I don’t doubt for a moment that that is necessary. I am, however, against having to beat anything I’m going to eat to death a second time in order to make it edible.

There also are bunches of recipes for how to make your gator the “new white meat.” I found several like General Tso’s Alligator and Snap Peas with Kumquat 3-2-1 Sauce Spicy Peanut Rice. Wow, doesn’t that sound good? Especially if you take out the word “alligator.”

I found Alligator Sauce Piquante Over Creamy Stone Ground Grits. Maybe it’s just me, but if I’m eating creamy stone ground grits, I don’t want some poodle-eating alligator poured over the top of it.

My favorite though is Fried Alligator Nuggets. Are “nuggets” code here for testicles? You know, like “oysters” are code for testicles when used in the tasty dish, Rocky Mountain oysters. After all, who’d eat a plate of food called Rocky Mountain bull testicles?

What can I say? I tried the alligator, a tiny small piece. Online, gator is described as having a “unique flavor, easily enhanced with seasonings and sauces.” And this really means, a gator’s flavor is remarkably similar to whatever it ate from your backyard, on the golf course or down the sewer, so smother it with sauces as it tastes like what it found there.

I cut the gator nugget in half. Chewy devil, maybe my friend should have beaten it with a crow-bar. I noted the crunch of the lightly spiced batter fried to a glorious golden hue, the paleness of the sinewy meat and all my dinner companions staring at me. Regarding flavor, there wasn’t much. Could there be a tastier place on the alligator on which to gnaw? How about a nice steamed cracked alligator claw or braised alligator ribs? Grandma always ate “the part that jumped the fence last” but she was sacrificing herself for the rest of us.

Yeah, they are what they eat but if I ever want a fishy chicken with old car license plate flavor and a hint of Pomeranian on the run, again. I’ll wait until the urge passes.

Cohea, a freelance writer, can be reached by e-mailing  a37_tao@hotmail.com.