KEN SWARNER: MENUDO >>>

Admittedly, I skipped the impetus, the need, the NEED for menudo and dipped my spoon in just for the fun of it. Maybe I should have thrown back five or six So-Cos on the rocks, suffered the apocalypse to follow and then tested if this Mexican “breakfast of champions” really does kill a hangover … but it was a Thursday … and 11 a.m.

As part of my tripe investigation, which will run in tomorrow's Weekly Volcano, I felt compelled to include Menudo in my story. A Mexican-American co-worker who grew up in Houston said Menudo, like other regional dishes, varies in taste from place to place. In other words, if Taco Bell carried it â€" beware!

I did what any reasonable food enthusiasts does in Tacoma, I stopped along Pacific Avenue near 56th Street and visited Vuelve A La Vida, one of two places I always expect authentic Mexican flavors. Tacos Guaymas on South Tacoma Way is the other, but they serve menudo only on the weekends.

Mexicans swear menudo is better than any hair of the dog (which is a different soup altogether). They slurp it for breakfast, but no one batted an eye when I ordered it for lunch.

The dark, red-brown soup based on tomato and beef broth features hominy the size and texture of garbanzo beans with cubed cutouts of honeycomb tripe. A plate of cilantro, onions and lime slices accompany the bowl â€" I dumped them in with reckless abandon.

If you approach menudo skittishly, reciting to yourself, “I am eating cow stomach, I am eating cow stomach,” likely you’ll miss the point and quite possibly convince yourself into a queasy stomach. Don’t. Menudo tastes like rich, deep, earthy tomato soup â€" period. The rest is texture â€" the hardness of the hominy and the pillow soft puffs of fatty, flavorless stomach. The tripe lacks an ounce of gristle or firmness â€" literally I thought I was eating the perfect sponge.

Would I try it again? Maybe. It’s not about acquiring the taste (it tastes great), it’s more in the realm of being a comfort food (familiar) or not.

I did find menudo in cans at Safeway. The one pound, 13.5 ounce cans feature menudo with and without hominy, spicy and mild. I suppose buying a can for when Alka Seltzer fails to soothe the savage beast of post-Saturday night binge drinking assures I’ve covered all of my bases. And that’s certainly a comfort.