I’m talking makhaasi here. Some like them soft and sweet; others, firm and savoury. And yes, no matter what anyone tells you, size matters, although I’m not going to get into that now because, as Oscar Wilde said, “A gentleman never insults anyone unintentionally.”

Everyone has their favorite place for makhaasi. In the old days you used to be able to take your balls to the kebabgi and the cook would grill them for you right then and there. Maybe you still can in some shaabi areas, where the men are men and the sheep are nervous.

It’s a subjective thing of course, a matter of taste – and reputation. Personally, I like the makhaasi from Abu Ramy in Maadi. He’s proud of his balls and willing to hold his up against anyone else’s any place, any time.

Which got me to thinking…You know how Italy is famous for pizza? And how they’ve actually instituted an official international standard so that if you don’t meet the requirements you can’t call it pizza? We should do that here. We should institute some sort of international testicle standard; a testes taste test. Egypt would be great at this. With proper standards in place, we could market our balls all over the world.

Like the Australian rock band AC/DC. They knew what they were about. Remember this one?

I’m rather upper class high society
God’s gift to ballroom notoriety
And I always fill my ballrooms
The event is never small
The social pages say I’ve got
The biggest balls of all

Some balls are held for charity
And some for fancy dress
But when they’re held for pleasure
They’re the balls that I like best

These guys were foodists for sure. Ahead of their time.

Seafood cocktail, crabs, crayfish… (we’ve got the biggest balls of them all)

David Blanks rocking out

You must be careful about where your balls have been, though. You can’t just pick them up anywhere. When you buy balls they should be free range. No one should eat confined and force-fed balls. Testicles, organs in general, should be free to roam, blow in the wind, wander where they must, barracuda style.

This is true of most things. Breasts, thighs, loins, even back fat – free and easy is the way to go. This ensures the highest quality and the most delectable experience.

There. I’ve done my public service message for the week. Glad I go that sorted. I hereby dedicate this blog to the eternal sunshine of the spotless culinary mind. Suck it up. Forget about it. Move on.

Next week? Assburgers.