Cracking open bones to eat cooked bone marrow is a familiar part of my diet, it has grown on me since childhood. On days when kari kuzhambu, a dish where bone-in goat meat is braised in its own cooking liquids with south Indian spices, was made at home, marrow bones were easy to find and easy to disappear as people actively looked out for them. Goat marrow bones were narrow enough that it required some skill to suck out the marrow, a skill I lacked much to my frustration when I was young. But when it worked, it was hard to forget that moment of realization when the marrow was out and the struggle with the bone was over.
