Omnivore’s 100: Alligator tastes like Crocodile

The Omnivore’s 100 feature is back!  The reason for the long absence: Crocodile stumped me.

I planned to buy this wild meat during the Texas trip.  San Antonio apparently had a famous speciality meats store, Exotic Meats USA. However, when I arrived and looked up their website, I found that the store had moved to Reno, NV.

Foiled, I put this culinary experiment on the back-burner for a few weeks.

What’s a Crocodile Anyhow?

Finding crocodile meat quickly turned into a biology lesson. As I Googled where to find crocodile in the DC area, I began to wonder what is the difference  between a crocodile and an alligator, anyhow. Alligators, which live conveniently in the southern US,  are relatively easy to find on DC menus.

The San Diego zoo enlightened me. Crocodiles live in Central and South America, Africa, SE Asia and Australia. They have V-shaped snouts and a tooth that sticks out of their mouths. Alligators have U-shaped noses and no visible teeth (when their months are shut).  So, in other words, there’s not much difference.

So, I’m Americanizing this list, which was orginally compiled by a Brit. I’m having alligator.

What Alligator Tastes Like

Fortunately, RT’s a cajun restaurant, which is located conveniently down the street from my apartment, serves the meat in stew form.

Opened in 1986, RT’s is a neighborhood institution — in a neighborhood that has transformed dramatically in the past decade. (See this Washing Post article on the subject.) The area know as Little Chirilagua is home to thousands of Salvadorian immigrants.  Pupsarias, international markets and Latino bakeries now surround the restaurant.  I drove past the place dozens of times, not realizing it wasn’t another pollo ala brasa place.

The restaurant was quiet on a Tuesday night, and the manager walked over to chat. He asked us if we had been to the restaurant before. No, we replied, we were new to the neighborhood. When we told him where we had moved from — Arlington — he snickered. Apparently, it didn’t make sense to him to move a few miles down the road.

Then, taking leave of this decade and our surroundings, he took another look at me.  He announced sagely that I, judging from my “vivacious personality,”"must be an Aries.” Um. No.

Eventually, the alligator stew arrived. The meat, served diced in a slightly spicy, gumbo-esque broth tasted just like Wikipedia describes crocodile: “a cross between chicken and crab.”

The rest of the food was decent — We had fried catfish and crawfish etouffee — but the bill came to nearly $50. And we were treated to one last conversation with the manager.  He stood next to us as he chatted with his boss about the lack-luster evening and how he didn’t manage to sell as single piece of sweet potato pie.  Ah, it’s all in the name of blogging.

More from wereoutofhere

• Omnivore’s 100: We Like it Raw & Spicy
• Omnivore’s 100: Venison down, 99 more to go
• Omnivore’s 100: A brush with bowel-cleaning super tea