On a recent warm Friday night, I had the good fortune to while away the time in the company of friends out on their deck. The theme for the evening was a Man-B-Q, a barbecue in which, as our host announced, "No girly things, such as vegetables, utensils, or napkins," were allowed. Guests were encouraged to bring side dishes to the Man-B-Q, as long as they were "meaty comestibles" to accompany the meat that would be grilled throughout the evening. Aside from the anthropologically questionable and chauvinist claim that vegetables are feminine (is there anything more manly than the armor of an artichoke or a spear of asparagus?), there was the troubling fact, made all the clearer as the night progressed, that the Man-B-Q was attended mostly by women.

What to bring to a Man-B-Q? The men in my life love things like smoked ribs and beefy steaks, but then again, so do I. As I stood before my refrigerator and contemplated what to do, it dawned on me that the only logical thing to bring to a Man-B-Q is some part of a man. As luck would have it, I just happened to have a pair of testicles sitting in my freezer.

The testicles are also referred to as testes; the singular is testis. Whenever I think about eating testicles I mostly dwell on the etymology. In Latin, the word testis means "witness"; supposedly, in ancient Rome it was the custom for men to place one hand on a testicle when taking an oath in court. Somewhere in my education, formal and otherwise, I'd never picked up on the difference between the testicles and the scrotal sac that encases them.

Cutting open the testicles is a lesson in anatomy. Once the blade of your knife penetrates the layer of tissue encasing the gland, the shimmering, opaque substance spills forth from the sac, making it somewhat difficult though entirely entertaining to slice.

Not all gentalia is good to eat. As some readers may recall, in February I wrote the Valentine's Day edition of the Nasty Bits in which I tried my best to make bull penis palatable, but to no avail. Penis is often made into chew toys for dogs because it is nearly impossible to digest unless it's stewed for a long time, in which case the vascular tissue breaks down into a gluey, flaccid mess of a dish with virtually no flavor.

Testicles, on the hand, are delightfully edible. Bigger is not always better. Duck testicles, which take the size and general shape of kumquats, are more tender and delicately flavored than those of the lamb, which are more like small avocados. While duck testicles do not taste particularly ducky, lamb testicles are unmistakably lamby with a pungent, grassy smell and a offal-intensive taste that's akin to stomach. Inside the veiny membrane, the texture is almost identical to that of a succulent scallop.

Lamb testicles possess so many culinary virtues; where do I begin to extol? First and foremost, the organs are unique for being both quick-cooking yet difficult to overcook. Unlike a steak, which can turn from medium-rare to cardboard material in just a few minutes, lamb testicles will stay tender for a lengthy window of time. Even at the Man-B-Q when we slapped the pair of testicles onto the grill and promptly forgot that they were cooking, the larger of the two remained perfectly tender while the smaller one was slightly chewy yet still palatable.

There are two main options to consider when cooking lamb testicles. If you are primarily concerned with flavor, then grilling the testicles imparts a smokiness that complements the gamey undertone of the glands. Grilling also offers the advantage of retaining the testicles in their whole form. The outer membrane not only crisps and chars on the grilll, it also keeps the testicles juicy as they cook.

If you're seeking more textural contrast, batter the balls in eggs and panko crumbs. They can either be deep-fried for classic Rocky Mountain oysters, or pan-fried in a heavy skillet.

Finally, if you're serving a large party of people, plan on one-half to one lamb testicle per guest. At the Man-B-Q there were only a pair to go around, but it was enough, given the abundance of meat on the grill that evening. Slumped over in our seats, we'd all imbibed and worked our way through chicken, steaks, and sausages by the time we were ready to eat the testicles. Salted and peppered with just a squeeze of lemon on top, the larger, tenderer of the two was met with approval all around. The consensus that evening was that it was "kind of a like a gamey scallop," though personally, I'd take a full-flavored testes over a sea scallop any day.

Grilled Lamb's Testicles

About the author: Chichi Wang took her degree in philosophy, but decided that writing about food would be much more fun than writing about Plato. She firmly believes in all things offal, the importance of reading great books, and the necessity of three-hour meals. If she were ever to get a tattoo, it would say "Fat is flavor." Visit her blog, The Offal Cook.