As I commented to mochapj, it’s a little odd that Americans are getting so hepped up about nduja – which, depending on who you read and who you believe, is a fermented, raw, spreadable salami, made from pork belly and God alone knows what other bits (liver, lights, brain, skin, etc.) – while we’re still so squeamish about ALL these things: raw meat, let alone fermented meat, let alone offal. Acquire some nduja, and you can expect to be mobbed by people who read the Dining section of the NY Times; announce that you’re having tongue or brain for dinner and don’t be surprised if you’re dining alone.

Every time he takes some of his hogs to slaughter now, Stan Schutte saves the tongues from being thrown out with the trash, and I continue to relish them! As I’ve said before, it’s not enough to have tongue on the brain; I also need to have it in my mouth, to savor it, and digest it.

Growing up, we ate cold, sliced tongue in a sandwich with Branston Pickle. My culinary horizons have broadened a bit since then, so the other night I fixed some tongue to eat in tacos. After simmering them in dark beer for a couple hours (with salt, pepper, cloves, and a few vegetables), I peeled the tongues, and chopped the meat up in the food processor with ancho chiles, adobo sauce, and barbecued pork shoulder jus.

(I keep telling ya, these juices are the most magical, most transformative food ingredient I’ve discovered in all my years of cooking; forget about truffle oil; or fig essence; or whatever is trendy now; this is where it’s at! Speaking of which, I’ll freeze up some of these juices and the pork shoulder fat and throw them into Scottie’s goody box, and we’ll see what he has to say about them. Why use ice packs, when you can use frozen pork juices and fat! The longer you wait, Scott, the fuller and better the box gets.)

Tonight, with the rest of this batch of tongues, I’m serving Rick Bayliss’ estofado almendrado, a Oaxacan stew that, in many ways, is similar to old-fashioned dishes from southern Europe, thickened with bread and ground almonds, sweetened with raisins, and spiced up with some meaty olives. The Mexican additions are roasted tomatoes, jalapenos, and oregano. The result is a sauce that’ not too sweet or hot, but beautifully balanced, dense with flavor, and lusciously rich.

Tags: Mexican, pork, tongue

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