I succumbed to Bosworth's peer pressure and bit in to my first "Rocky Mountain Oyster" (Or was it a wing nut?). It tasted. . . it was. . . um. . .chewy. Real chewy. Later in the evening, after another beer or two, Sam came over with another one that had been prepared without the skin and made me give it another try. It was. . .um. . .less chewy.
Photos gleefully taken by Scott Romuld.