For me, there’s something about placenta-eating that tickles the ol’ gag reflex. And I say this as a dedicated carnivore who has eaten her fair share of strange delicacies (raw horsemeat comes immediately to mind).

Why should I be so opposed to eating, literally, my own flesh and blood? After all, I’m constantly gnawing on my cuticles.

But body-part analogies could not keep me from dry-heaving my way through Jezebel’s reposting of cooking show's transcript where the featured ingredient is a placenta.

The crowning gory glory is this:

MARY: [Carrying the mousse, which has been shaped with a Bundt mold, to the buffet table] It's got a bit of the old cervix look about it, doesn't it?
SUE: Absolutely, dear. I thought it was very appropriate.

(Now I'm cramping.)

Fine. If you need your placenta-snacking to be a little more clinical, MSNBC has a write-up on women who ingest placenta, in one form or another, to stave off the baby blues. Some women dry it, grind it and load it into capsules. Others, um, don't. (Bottom lip is starting to quiver, plus I looked at that Placenta-loaf picture again. I'm canceling lunch plans.)

There's no evidence that it works, but the featured women swear by it. One woman even started her own placenta encapsulating kit company. While she gets lots of traffic to her website, she said she hasn't sold many kits so far.

Sidenote: The article includes a broad survey of placenta-revering from around the world, including this interesting tidbit:

“Tribes in the Ural Mountains in Russia thought of the placenta as a caretaker for the child — and as such, it deserved a warm welcome. Along with carefully knitted clothes for the infant, they’d create a tiny shirt for the placenta.” How do they know which side is up? Has one been featured over on Drool.icio.us?

I don’t feel so good.

For placenta recipes (why?), go here.

Photo of Walnut-Pate: Daddy Types