In my never-ending quest to bring new culinary dishes to the table, I recently took a trip to Africa to try and harvest recipes to bring back home.

Upon my arrival on the continent, I immediately requested be taken to the Gabon region in the heart of the country’s rainforest. It was there, in a pre-arraigned meeting, I met with Bouku Balau Botswasu Buhoo of the Baka’s Pygmy tribe (I’ll call him BB for short). BB had graciously answered an email I had sent him requesting the meeting to learn more about his tribe’s cuisine.

My timing was impeccable. I arrived in the Pygmy village just as BB’s family was sitting down for lunch. We sat in a huge circle around a large cast iron pot simmering over a hot open fire. As was tradition in the Baka tribe, BB’s wife reached into the scalding pot with her bare hands and pulled out an object that looked haunting familiar and laid it gently onto a Kapuk tree leaf that served as a plate.

“Cane rat,” a toothless BB smiled, watching his wife. “Tastes much like your prime rib.” With one eye on BB, the other on his wife, I watched her reach back into the pot and withdraw two smaller items that also looked hauntingly familiar. “Aagh, Tokay gecko,” BB beamed. “Lizards. Most delicious.” BB’s wife handed me the leaf. “Eat, eat,” BB said, pointing to my “plate.”

I stared at the three pair of lifeless eyes that had boiled to the color gray. Tasting the half-dozen shots of whiskey I had on the airplane, as they approached mid-throat level, I extended my leaf to BB. “It’s tradition in my country to let the host have the first helping,” I said swallowing hard.

BB straightened with pride. “Oh, you generous Americans,” he said, grabbing a gecko and dangling it by its tail above his open mouth.

“No, no!” I cried. “Take the big one!” But I was too late. BB dropped the lizard into his mouth, sucking in the tail like a string of spaghetti. The Buhoo clan clapped as BB smacked his lips in delight. Turning their attention to me, they waited patiently for me to follow suit. Trying to hide my disgust the best I could, I raised the remaining lizard by its tail and slowly lowered it toward my mouth. As all eyes were focused on the lizard, I shifted mine over mama Buhoo’s shoulder and shouted, “Tiger!” It was like a lightening bolt hit. Everyone leapt to their feet and hurriedly scattered in different directions gathering spears and blowguns. In the midst of the commotion, I made a remarkable hook-shot with the lizard back into the pot, and grabbed the lifeless rat and tossed it over my shoulder into the dense jungle.

All panic passed before the Buhoo’s once again assembled back around the fire. “Oops,” I said, making rapid chewing motions with my jaws. “False alarm.” As the family sat back down, I dabbed the corners of my mouth with the tip of the tree leaf. “Most delicious, Mrs. Buhoo.” Everyone stared for a moment, bewildered, scratching their heads before finally breaking into a smile.

“More!” BB shouted to his wife.

“No, no, no,” I said jumping to my feet. “I must go. The Fang’s are expecting me for supper and it’s a long journey. Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Buhoo for your hospitality.”

BB started to wrap a rat to go, but I politely refused stating that it was against American custom to eat rats on the road. BB nodded in appreciation. “Oh, you generous Americans,” he said handing me a coconut.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“Filled with a fruity drink made from plant root bark,” he replied.

I thanked BB again and blew kisses to the Mrs. Halfway to the airport, I drained the coconut, my throat parched from the tropical humidity. What BB failed to tell me was that his “fruity drink” was a psychoactive indole alkaloid: or in laymen’s terms a psychogenic.

My plane ride back to America was, in no uncertain terms, a wild ride.

I was on this psychogenic journey when I dreamed up a couple different recipes involving mushrooms. This is one of them.

Mushroom Steak Sandwich

1 can (10.5 oz.) Campbells cream of mushroom soup

3/4 can of milk

1/2 pound minute sandwich steaks

1 can (4 oz) sliced mushrooms (drained)

1 tablespoon of butter

In a small saucepan, heat soup and slowly add milk. Stir over medium heat until hot and add mushrooms. In a medium-sized fry pan, melt your butter over low heat. Count out eight minute steaks for this recipe and throw the rest back in the freezer. When the butter is melted, break the sandwich steaks into bite-sized pieces and add to the pan. Cook over medium heat till no longer pink. Drain the grease in your empty soup can and return to stove. Pour just enough soup into the meat to nicely coat and mix well. Simmer for about five minutes for the flavors to blend. Toast a hot dog bun and fill with meat. Enjoy with your leftover soup, or beans, or salad, or…