I've mentioned before on this blog that I used to be a vegetarian.
So how did I go from eating a diet of rutabegas and wheat berries to finding myself staring down a strip of bacon flanked by two nuggets from that part of the bull that, to put it politely, makes him a bull rather than a cow (third picture in post).
In my mind, there is a straight line that I can draw between my veggie days and my seat at the table of Incanto's Third Annual "Head to Tail Dinner" 3 weeks ago (where the only vegetables were a few capers and a sprinkling of herbs). I'll attempt to describe the connection between the two eras of my life here in this post and you can decide whether I am in fact full of another product of the bull (which thankfully was not part of this particular feast).
Like many who are vegetarian by choice (as opposed to by their upbringing), my decision to stop eating meat was made consciously and was based on personal ethics. I was and still am sickened by the treatment of animals in the industrial system that currently exists for raising the majority of the animals that we eat. (If you haven't yet, view The Meatrix now). Well, er, maybe that's only part of the story. The other reason was that, as a good little rebellious twenty-something, I enjoyed causing my mother grief during holiday feasts.
Once I chose to return to my omnivorous ways (it turns out vegetarianism has a way of curtailing the options of aspiring chefs), I sought some system of ethics that would support my decision.
I enthusiastically latched onto the ethical standards of Alice Water's "Delicious Revolution" and, later, those of the Slow Food Movement. I intentionally sought out local ranchers and farmers who raised animals more humanely, like Bill Niman (cattle, sheep, and pigs), Bud and Ruth Hoffman (chickens and quails), Jim Reichardt (ducks), the Straus family (dairy cows) and others.
Unfortunately, I quickly discovered that ethics costs a premium. On the pennies that I earned as a novice cook and the nickles N earned as a teacher, we really couldn't afford these pricier meats. But we were both committed to the cause, so we shelled out a shocking portion of our incomes to shop at farmers markets and support the efforts of these pioneers.
One way I learned we could save money was to buy less expensive cuts of meat. I happily mastered the art of slow cooking and braising tougher cuts like lamb shanks, beef short ribs and cheeks, pork shoulder and belly, and duck legs. In fact, these are some of my favorite cuts of meat to this day.
Unfortunately, every other penny-conscious chef and home cook in the area came to the same realization at the same time as I did. As demand rose, so did the price of these once less desirable cuts. Slow-cooked meats became a hot trend and "comfort food" became a buzz word.
The next logical step was naturally to find out which of the even less desirable cuts were the tastiest. I had eaten many interesting parts - like pig's ears and bull's "whip" (another euphemism) - during my year teaching English in Sichuan, China, but I honestly had little idea how to cook them.
That's when I (and again, many others) discovered the little book by the British chef Fergus Henderson entitled Nose to Tail Eating: a Kind of British Cooking. As Anthony Bourdain says in his introduction to the American edition (retitled The Whole Beast): "You could make a good argument that Fergus Henderson's early and unpredictable success in a plain whitewashed room on St. John Street in London made it permissible for all of us - chefs as far away as New York, San Francisco, and Portland - to reconsider dishes and menu items [such as pork belly, marrow bones, and kidneys] that were once the very foundations of French, Italian and, yes - even American cuisine." And I would certainly add Spanish cuisine to that list.
There is more behind my choice than mere economics. Although, thus far, it seems like I have argued that I eat offal because I'm a cheap skate (and that it tastes good), there is another deeper layer of reasoning.
Years ago, I read something by the Beat poet/philosopher Gary Snyder that provided me with the ethical framework for my choice to eat every part of the animal. Snyder, a Zen Buddhist who has taken a vow to "not cause harm or kill," has, to the dismay of some critics, written much poetry about hunting and the food chain. He defended himself by writing in an essay: "The larger view is one that can acknowledge the simultaneous pain and the beauty of this complexly interrelated real world....So far it has been the earlier subsistence cultures of the world, especially the hunters and gatherers, who have - paradoxically - most beautifully expressed their gratitude to the earth and its creatures."
Although Snyder surely never intended these statements to be used to justify the killing of animals, he did remind me that there is a way to eat meat that will "express gratitude to the earth and its creatures."
When I decided to abandon vegetarianism, I looked to the example of the indigenous peoples of the Americas (and frankly, as Henderson and Bourdain pointed out, my own European ancestors). I made the commitment to eat every bit of the animal and not waste any part of those animals whose death, by eating their flesh, I was supporting.
So that's the story of how a former vegetarian found his way to the table at Incanto's dinner celebrating the gustatory delights of the usually discarded "fifth quarter" a few weeks ago. And you know what? I savored every bite. What better way is there to honor and respect the animal that has, in a way, provided its flesh to you?
My favorite dish of the evening was the "balls & bacon" that I referred to at the beginning of this post (albeit more delicately). I learned that the reason these bits of manhood (bullhood?) are called "mountain oysters" is that cajones del toro (no relation to Benicio del Toro...well, then again...) are as surprisingly tender as fried oysters. Who knew?
One last observation. Mark Pastore, the owner of Incanto, told me that he had an unusually high number of cancellations in the two days prior to the dinner. In fact, after selling out at a rate faster than Valentine's Day and turning people away, the restaurant was faced with 20% of his customers taking what we used to call the "chicken exit" (which in this case is apt in more ways than one).
The funny thing about American diners is that we tend to be very squeamish at the table. We think that eating offal and other odd bits is just plain Yuck! "Ew! Like totally, ya know, gnarly and gross." Yet, at the most American of sporting events, the baseball game, nearly every fan happily tucks into a hot dog. What do you think lurks inside those neat little tubes?
The pictures scattered throughout my post were taken from my meal at Incanto. The pictures are in the order they were served. If you missed the menu in my previous post on Incanto, here it is again (with a little more detail):
- Fried lamb and veal tripe
- Beef heart tartare puttanesca
- Marin mountain oysters with pancetta afumicata and capers
- Finanziera, Piemontese market stew of cockscombs, sweetbreads, and sanguinaccio (blood sausage)
- Spring lamb trio of Roman haggis, kidney and tongue with spicy lentils, lemon and mint
- Suet pudding with chocolate blood gelato
More pictures and witty descriptions of the Head to Tail Dinner can be found on the BunRabs' site, Daily Feed (about halfway down the page).
Incanto
1550 Church St.
San Francisco
415-641-4500
Sounds like a wonderful dinner--says this former vegetarian, now oxtail fanatic. Here in Syracuse there is a fabulous neighborhood restaurant that is widely known for its Testical Festival. It sells out every year. Consider this an invitation to visit Syracuse in the fall when the weather is still good and the food even better, dare I call it, gutsy. BTW, I hope the restaurant ride is going well.
Posted by: Jennifer | Sunday, March 26, 2006 at 10:57 AM
Nose to tail eating is not the easiest thing in the world, as kids, we were traumatised by our mums version of lambs fry, she cooked her liver until well done and them some, rendering it too tough to chew. On a lighter note I did a post about 'mountain oysters' from a humurous angle, it's at http://tankeduptaco.blogspot.com/2005/12/no-bull.html#links, check it out for a bit of a laugh.
Posted by: tankeduptaco | Sunday, March 26, 2006 at 03:51 PM
I have a similar outlook on the consumption of animals, and am pleased to prepare and consume many of those bits and pieces of the beast that cause others to cancel their reservations at the last minute.
Many people seem put off by preparations which look strikingly like the animal they come from. Since I'm not, I'm tempted to think them silly..until I reflect that if I personally had to kill what I consume, (and wasn't starving) I'd be eating a lot less meat. And not just because I wouldn't be a good shot! This doean't really fit in all that well with my theorizing.
I might be limited to fish and shellfish, which I am prepared to do in personally, as I have before. I guess we all have our own personal and cultural thresholds, and mine aren't always consistent with my beliefs.
Posted by: Lindy | Sunday, March 26, 2006 at 04:42 PM
Now that I'm almost finished with my cooking classes at Le Cordon Bleu in Paris, I can say that I have a much greater appreciation for offal (mountain oysters and the like) and other seemingly bizarre cuts of meat. The French are efficient making sure that the whole animal is put to use. To me that reflects respect for the animals life. After butchering up various animals and getting over the immediate shock of it all, I can eat just about anything, except frogs legs (still can't go there)
One thing to keep in mind is that offal are often parts of an animal that filter or store chemicals and toxins. It's a good idea to insure that you know the animal is organic and it's been killed humanely. Animals sense danger/fear and this can actually change the taste – especially with kidneys.
Bon Appetit!
Ms. Glaze
Posted by: Ms. Glaze | Tuesday, March 28, 2006 at 09:28 AM
Fantastic post, as always. Haven't tried anything from the book yet, but you've made me do so asap :)
Posted by: keiko | Wednesday, March 29, 2006 at 02:01 AM
what a feast! i would love to sit down to those, anytime a diner takes a chicken exit...
i understand what you mean about paying a premium for living out your principles. i work on the board of the local slow food group and our biggest issue in promoting the virtues and flavors of food is accessibility. we have a lot of college students, teachers, etc. interested, but unable to do it 100%, let alone convincing hte general mormon population (big portions, crap food) to spend more of their dough on worthy food as opposed to say, a power boat for hte kids when they take the family vacation to Lake Powell.
and i was really pissed to find pork shoulder has risen sharply in price last week. argh!
Posted by: vanessa | Wednesday, March 29, 2006 at 03:53 PM
Our favourite spanish cook Abraham García is writing a promising Offal and tripe book, let me know if you are interested in this bloody delicacies and I'll send you a copie.
Posted by: nopisto | Wednesday, March 29, 2006 at 11:58 PM
The first picture looks er.. somewhat familiar lol..food porn? :-)
Posted by: Tony of the Bachelor cooking | Thursday, March 30, 2006 at 06:45 AM
Jennifer, love the gutsy pun. A Testicle Festival. That takes balls. Is that restaurateur nuts?
TUT, I just read the joke/story on your post. Very, very funny!
Lindy, excellent point. If I had to kill everything I ate personally, I'd probably be vegetarian. I'm simply too much of a city slicker. But still, I do my best to realize that by choosing to eat animals we are in fact participating in their death. It's a very humbling and sobering thought.
Ms. Glaze, congratulations on graduating (almost) from Le Cordon Bleu. Very cool! You are so right about buying offal only from pasture raised, humanely killed animals. All of the innards from the Incanto meal came from such animals, from Niman Ranch and Potter Family Farms.
Keiko, thank you for the kind words. Have you been to St. John's yet, seeing as you live over on that side of the Pond?
Vanessa, you are fighting a good fight. We are spoiled in the Bay Area, where the Slow Food group is always preaching to the choir. You have it much more difficult preaching to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Best of luck!
Nopisto, any book by the chef of Viridiana has to be good. I regret that I didn't by El Placer de Comer last summer.
Tony, actually I believe the third picture is the one that will make you wince (I edited the post to make that more clear). The first picture is fried tripe (stomach lining). Nothing to fear.
Posted by: Brett | Thursday, March 30, 2006 at 03:29 PM
What a lovely approach to living and eating. You have such a balanced soul. Now... on to steak and kidney pie!
Posted by: Lisa D. Walker | Friday, March 31, 2006 at 12:56 PM
Brett, All the recipes from El Placer de comer can be foud here:
http://www.elmundo.es/encuentros/invitados/clasificacion/grupos/9.html
Posted by: nopisto | Monday, April 03, 2006 at 09:25 AM
I really liked the pictures. They are very cute.
Posted by: Venkatesh Iyer | Sunday, January 13, 2008 at 09:54 PM
I like the meat of lamb and many of its internal organs most of all. Looking at your picture and discriptions I dream of eating it. Yummy!
Posted by: Elisa | Wednesday, January 16, 2008 at 04:45 AM
I love the post about Incanto's Head to Tail Dinner! It all looked so delicious! I have to go there sometime especially since I don't live too far (I live in LA). Keep up the good work!
Posted by: Quinn | Wednesday, August 20, 2008 at 07:18 PM