Identification: This is the most massive frog around. It can get to be about 8 inches long and weigh over a pound. The females are larger than males. The coloration can vary from all green, to green with brown, to blotchy, to mostly brownish with some green etc. The bullfrog primarily frequents ponds. He's not too picky, and almost any little patch of water will do. Even if it's a nasty drainage ditch, you're likely to find a few of his ilk sitting about. At night you can listen for his deep and very loud call. To me it sounds sort of like "rerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp".
The Bullfrog; a Frog I Once Ate
I've long enjoyed the idyllic pursuits of fishing and crabbing. I suppose at heart I'm a sort of quaint waterfolk. Left to my own devices I might end up spending days at a time holding a cane pole, wearing rubber boots, and perhaps smoking a corncob pipe beside a lazy stream. Very rarely have I engaged in the active pursuit of hunting animals that spend part of their day on land. Only twice have i sought semiaquatic quarry. Once I attempted to hunt a Peking duck, but ended up befriending him and forming a lasting relationship. My second hunting excursion was more successfull, and this was for none other than the bullfrog.
During the heady days of my early twenties, I received a suggestion from the woman who would later become my wife that we catch bullfrogs and eat their legs. Needless to say, I was eager to impress this co-ed. We were not yet dating, and I considered this an ideal opportunity to establish myself as a competent provider.
We quickly secured some frogging spears from a neighbor and headed to a nearby pond. It was after dark, and the pond featured an abundance of bullfrogs. It soon became clear that spearing frogs is incredibly easy. Within minutes we had gathered a substantial ranid for each member of our party. Now it was time to cook them.
I'm a fairly adventurous eater. True, I've never had that Ethiopian dish where a quail is cooked inside a rabbit inside a chicken inside a goat inside a pig inside a camel, or however the order goes. Nevertheless, I'll try almost anything once. Frog legs turned out to be a great disappointment; perhaps not as great as that experienced by the Millerites in 1844, but still a notable failure to meet expectations. Don't listen when people say it tastes like chicken. That's only half true. It tastes like chicken and crab mixed together. And not in a fun chicken chesapeake novelty way. No, this is more like a male crab one day dallied with a hen, who dutifully sat on her eggs until hatching a half crab half chicken abomination. This unnatural heir retains some elements of his invertebrate father, and some of his avian mother, yet tastes nowhere near as good as either. It's probably even worse than alligator tail, which tastes like a repulsive blend of chicken and fish, no matter how much you cover it with crispy breading.
I've long enjoyed the idyllic pursuits of fishing and crabbing. I suppose at heart I'm a sort of quaint waterfolk. Left to my own devices I might end up spending days at a time holding a cane pole, wearing rubber boots, and perhaps smoking a corncob pipe beside a lazy stream. Very rarely have I engaged in the active pursuit of hunting animals that spend part of their day on land. Only twice have i sought semiaquatic quarry. Once I attempted to hunt a Peking duck, but ended up befriending him and forming a lasting relationship. My second hunting excursion was more successfull, and this was for none other than the bullfrog.
During the heady days of my early twenties, I received a suggestion from the woman who would later become my wife that we catch bullfrogs and eat their legs. Needless to say, I was eager to impress this co-ed. We were not yet dating, and I considered this an ideal opportunity to establish myself as a competent provider.
We quickly secured some frogging spears from a neighbor and headed to a nearby pond. It was after dark, and the pond featured an abundance of bullfrogs. It soon became clear that spearing frogs is incredibly easy. Within minutes we had gathered a substantial ranid for each member of our party. Now it was time to cook them.
I'm a fairly adventurous eater. True, I've never had that Ethiopian dish where a quail is cooked inside a rabbit inside a chicken inside a goat inside a pig inside a camel, or however the order goes. Nevertheless, I'll try almost anything once. Frog legs turned out to be a great disappointment; perhaps not as great as that experienced by the Millerites in 1844, but still a notable failure to meet expectations. Don't listen when people say it tastes like chicken. That's only half true. It tastes like chicken and crab mixed together. And not in a fun chicken chesapeake novelty way. No, this is more like a male crab one day dallied with a hen, who dutifully sat on her eggs until hatching a half crab half chicken abomination. This unnatural heir retains some elements of his invertebrate father, and some of his avian mother, yet tastes nowhere near as good as either. It's probably even worse than alligator tail, which tastes like a repulsive blend of chicken and fish, no matter how much you cover it with crispy breading.
Bullfrogs; a Frog that Violates Expectations
While my culinary adventures may seem trivial or even tedious to some, they provide a nice segue into my next theme. Just as one expects a traditional french dish such as frog legs to be delicious, only to find it tastes like unfortunate crab-chicken hybrid, one who studies the bullfrog will often be astounded by how he defies conventional wisdom.
First of all, the bullfrog has teeth. I always thought of amphibians as gummy mouthed sorts with little need for teeth. Then again, maybe I'm the only one who finds this unexpected. The more I contemplate a soft jawed salamander who's bite feels like a gentle massage, the sillier my early assumptions seem. So maybe you expected teeth. But the bullfrog has them on the roof of his mouth. That's unusual isn't it?
Secondly, the bullfrogs diet is much more diverse than I would have thought. Perhaps I am a bit bigotted towards frogs, as I never thought to question the lilypad sitting, using the tongue to catch flies stereotype. The bullfrog may rest on the odd lily pad, but he's an aggressive sort who ambushes almost anything. He'll eat fish, other frogs, even mice if they get too close.
Finally, the bullfrog surprises me by taking his sweet time turning from a tadpole into a mature frog. When I was little, I lived in England, and went to the english eqivalent of kindergarten, called "infants one." In my infants one class, my teacher took us for a nature walk, caught some tadpoles, and kept them in a jar. It wasn't too many weeks before these were sprouting legs, and getting on with the whole frog stage of life. It seems again, that frogs vary greatly. While a Bullfrog in warmer climes can make the transition in a few months, others might take up to two years.
While my culinary adventures may seem trivial or even tedious to some, they provide a nice segue into my next theme. Just as one expects a traditional french dish such as frog legs to be delicious, only to find it tastes like unfortunate crab-chicken hybrid, one who studies the bullfrog will often be astounded by how he defies conventional wisdom.
First of all, the bullfrog has teeth. I always thought of amphibians as gummy mouthed sorts with little need for teeth. Then again, maybe I'm the only one who finds this unexpected. The more I contemplate a soft jawed salamander who's bite feels like a gentle massage, the sillier my early assumptions seem. So maybe you expected teeth. But the bullfrog has them on the roof of his mouth. That's unusual isn't it?
Secondly, the bullfrogs diet is much more diverse than I would have thought. Perhaps I am a bit bigotted towards frogs, as I never thought to question the lilypad sitting, using the tongue to catch flies stereotype. The bullfrog may rest on the odd lily pad, but he's an aggressive sort who ambushes almost anything. He'll eat fish, other frogs, even mice if they get too close.
Finally, the bullfrog surprises me by taking his sweet time turning from a tadpole into a mature frog. When I was little, I lived in England, and went to the english eqivalent of kindergarten, called "infants one." In my infants one class, my teacher took us for a nature walk, caught some tadpoles, and kept them in a jar. It wasn't too many weeks before these were sprouting legs, and getting on with the whole frog stage of life. It seems again, that frogs vary greatly. While a Bullfrog in warmer climes can make the transition in a few months, others might take up to two years.
A bullfrog on a lily pad: no doubt enjoying himself, but failing to challenge society's restrictive stereotypes
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