SnackBar
Dusty tomes on good housekeeping back in the day aren’t all lace doilies and tea sandwiches. Flipping through the brittle and stained pages of distilled homemakers’ wisdom, it’s not rare to run across images of prim ladies expertly wielding weighty cleavers before a carcass. By carcass, I don’t mean an anemic and rigid rack of pre-trimmed lamb chops. There’s an arched neck and heavy head hanging from that cage of ribs, dark muscles and shining sinews exposed from nose to boney tail (no longer fluffy). This is fresh meat, a vivid reminder of mortality and a promise of savory nourishment. It’s a meat eat meat world, and I say it’s alright, it’s life, and life only.
What gnaws at me is how we often cling to the familiarity and perceived superiority of skeletal muscles while ignoring a host of textures and flavors that the entire animal embodies. A silky slab of marbled sirloin is certainly nothing to sneer at, but the delicacy of stock simmered beef tongue or the smoky robustness of grilled intestines are less frequently extolled, through no fault of their own. I can only chalk it up to culinary prudishness, and perhaps lack of exposure. Though it’s really no excuse in New York City, as this diverse and adventurous city is teeming with restaurants that offer exquisite offal, also known as giblets, guts, innards, and all those other lovely names we give to the more interesting parts of an animal. Offal by any other name would taste as sweet, and would certainly sell better.
A good place to start on an offal adventure would be in the West Village itself, at Takashi (456 Hudson Street, between Barrow Street & Morton Street), the neighborhood Japanese-Korean yakiniku grill-it-yourself restaurant. Takashi offers everything bovine; from the tongue (regular and super-thick, a good gateway drug into the world of offal); to the heart; to the first, second, and third stomachs; the liver; and of course the intestine (You’ll be a bona fide gut eater if you can handle intestines. It’s intense but delicious!). Takashi is an expert, fun, and relaxed way to experience beef in its whole animal spectrum of flavors and textures. They also offer an extensive selection of premium quality “normal” cuts in case someone chickens out.
Speaking of fowl, one of my favorite odd parts is duck gizzard. It costs less than the tips of a restaurant meal, and it’s really easy to make at home. Gizzards can be found in both Chinese and Japanese grocery stores (the best I’ve seen are at Deluxe Meat Market—79 Elizabeth Street). Marinate them in salt, ginger, scallions, and wine, then poach gently till the meat is silky smooth and delicately pink on the inside. Gizzards are dense muscles, so it’s vital to cook them at relatively low-temperatures to prevent them from contracting while maintaining the smooth and al dente texture. Cold smoking them wouldn’t be a bad idea either if you have the equipment and expertise. Sliced duck gizzard is a classic drinking snack, perfect when unwinding with a glass of crystal clear sake, whereas a night out at a yakiniku joint usually involves a boisterous gang swaying in a fog of beer and smoke. Different moods, different foods; each provides a good time in its own way.
If you have any comments, questions or other tasty (or morbid) tidbits, contact DuanDuan at SnackBar.Kitchen@gmail.com.
Ginger Poached Duck Gizzard
Ingredients
1 lb duck gizzard
3 tbsp salt
4 in. knob of ginger, thinly sliced
1 bundle scallion, roughly chopped
½ cup rice wine (Preferably Chinese cooking wine or Japanese sake, but a splash of rum will do in a pinch, or skip alcohol altogether)
Method
- Salt the duck gizzards: sprinkle the salt evenly and generously on both sides of the gizzards. Rub it in for good measure.
- Put the salted gizzards in a Ziploc bag or container with all the other ingredients and shake to distribute evenly. Remove air from Ziploc if using. Add a weight on top (plate, rock, iPad, etc.) and let marinate in fridge for 2–3 days. Flip occasionally.
- Thoroughly wash salt from gizzards. Discard ginger and scallion.
- Place washed gizzards in pot with a few slices of fresh ginger. Add enough cold water to cover completely. Heat on high until small bubbles form and begin to rise. Then turn down to medium-low and poach for 30 minutes. Add cold water to keep gizzards immersed if necessary. Skim scum if you feel like it. Important: Never allow water to come to a full boil otherwise the meat will become tough! Make sure only small bubbles form. The surface of the water should always be smooth with tenuous clouds of steam rising.
- Rinse and chill gizzards in ice water for 5 minutes. Discard ginger. Drain and dry with paper towel. Chill in fridge for at least an hour. Slice thinly. The inside should be perfectly smooth and slightly pink. Serve cold or at room temperature with finely sliced scallions and a wedge of lemon or yuzu. Don’t forget to pour yourself a glass of sake.
