This past week, my sister and I took the train to Lyon for a day. We both love food and decided to treat ourselves to a nice Lyonnaise lunch at a bouchon. I had a difficult time translating the main dishes and tried calling my husband for help. Unfortunately, he was away from his phone and on lunch break. Rebecca and I could decipher a few of the words and ordered the dishes we thought we knew. Rebecca ordered a pot of boiled pieces of pig that came with some boiled potatoes and a few cornichons. I ordered Andouilette thinking it was Andouille sausage. Boy, was I mistaken. While eating it, I tried not to think about it possibly being tripe though deep down in my stomach, I knew. Later that day, I spoke to my husband and told him what I ate and then he set me straight. Some of my friends did as well, after telling them about our adventurous lunch in Lyon. "You ate what???", they'd ask me in surprise. A lot of other diners were eating the same dish. It must be really popular and good, I was thinking. The gratin dauphinois that accompanied the dish was out of this world and worth me spending the extra few Euros. I had a tiny piece of tripe a few months ago when dining out with friends (the same night I tried frog legs). It was okay, not terrible if you don't think about where it came from while chewing. I had absolutely no idea that Andouillette was pig colon. I'd say that this was a terribly disgusting learning experience.