I was camping at a bluegrass festival with friends and someone made up a big pot of something. Grabbed me a plate, enjoyed it, it was dark outside and I couldn't really see what I was eating. Found out after I finished my plate it was chicken feet and rice.
I found it very disturbing because one of my biggest fears was bird feet, not afraid of the birds, just their feet. Stems back to childhood, on grandmother's farm and her attack roosters, getting clawed in the back trying to run past them. But actually, now that I've eaten it, I'm not really afraid of bird feet anymore. After killing a chicken, I no longer feel the need to immediately cringe and get the feet cut off, get them out of sight. Now I can just leave them in the pile with the rest of the scraps and clean it up all at once.