5.13.2012

ODD BITS : PALATES, EYEBALLS & SWEETBREADS


Palates 

Even I hadn’t considered eating the roof of an animal’s mouth, but apparently beef palates were a popular food in the past. Robert May, an English cook, gives recipes for ox palate in his book "The Accomplisht Cook" (1660). In one, he mixes cooked diced palates with small roasted birds, bacon, oysters, fried artichokes, pistachios, and a panoply of odd bits including lamb and poultry testicles, cockscombs, marrow, and sweetbreads. The English cook Dorothy Hartley writes that palates must be peeled like tongue and can be added to brawn (headcheese). She cites an eighteenth-century recipe for palates served in a rich egg yolk and cream sauce, then garnished with pickled grapes.
The palate is tougher meat than soft tongue, but of the same type. DOROTHY HARTLEY 
Palates were common in France too: Larousse Gastronomique lists five different preparations. Apparently they are also an ingredient in Asian cooking: occasionally, dried water buffalo palate is added to dishes in the Laotian kitchen. I am going to stick with tongue.

Eyeballs 

There are recipes for cooking eyeballs but you’ll find none here. When one recipe began with the instructions to remove the corneas, lenses, and irises, I didn’t read any further. I am a cook, not a surgeon. Many cultures relish eyeballs, but usually as the choice piece from a cooked head, not a separate dish. Icelanders, who eat lots of strange foods, including fermented shark, apparently delight in sheep’s eyes and include them in sheep headcheese. Sheep’s eyeballs are popular throughout the Middle East and North Africa. My first eyeball experience was while eating a dish of sheep’s head couscous. The split sheep’s head was in a broth of vegetables and the host offered me the eyes. I ate one and then asked for the brain.
They have a nice chewy texture without being tough, a little like squid but without the slipperiness. The secret is to remove the inky, black middle bit without bursting it before you bite into the gelatinous eye socket. ANISSA HELOU 
There is no reason not to try eyeballs—they don’t taste strong and you might enjoy the texture. They are not like jelly as you might imagine, but pleasantly chewy. If you cook sheep’s or pig’s head you will have eyeballs to taste. My advice is to cut them in half: then you can remove the black center, which makes them look less like cool first, the texture is better.

Sweetbreads

Neither Sweet nor Bready 

This odd bit has a very strange name: it is a gland that is neither sweet nor breadlike. The word’s origins go back to the sixteenth century; “sweet” was a reference to the odd bit’s reputation as a prized delicacy. The “bread” part of the name is not related to bread as we think of it, but comes from the Old English word broed, meaning “flesh.”
Chef Daniel used to say that they should have the feel of a firm, young breast. SUSAN SPICER 
There is also a lot of confusion as to just exactly what they are, and while researching this book I discovered many different opinions. Some people still believe that “sweetbreads” is a pseudonym for testicles. It’s not: those odd bits have more than enough euphemistic names. At chef school, I learned that sweetbreads are the thymus glands of young animals, calf and sometimes lamb. This is why they are so special, expensive, and limited in supply; however some people, including butchers, have expanded the term to include the inferior pancreas.
Julia Child described them this way: A whole sweetbread, which is the thymus gland of a calf and usually weighs around 1 pound, consists of 2 lobes connected by a soft, white tube, the cornet.The smoother, rounder, and more solid of the two lobes is the kernel, heart, or noix, and the choicest piece. The second lobe, called the throat sweetbread or gorge, is more uneven in shape … 
She neglects to mention lamb sweetbreads, which are equally tasty. As Child points out, the thymus gland consists of two parts, which is why they are often referred to in the plural. Sweetbreads are made up of a thin, knobby lobe, the “throat” sweetbread, and its rounder, firmer twin, often called the “heart” sweetbread. Heart refers to its shape, not its location. The heart sweetbread is generally preferred because it is more compact than the throat one and slices more evenly. The thymus gland atrophies as the animal ages, so sweetbreads are only found in young animals. The pancreas, also a gland, is located near the animal’s stomach and, unlike true sweetbreads, it does not disappear as the animal ages. This accounts for its substitution for and confusion with sweetbreads.
It is not a sweetbread, but is often given the moniker of “stomach sweetbread.” In France, I had a long dinner conversation with a food writer and a cooking teacher. When I discussed eating the pancreas, I was met with a look of horror—and the French are not squeamish when it comes to eating organs and glands. They considered the idea of eating pancreas disgusting, let alone substituting it for sweetbreads. Despite the French reaction, the pancreas is edible; it has a coarser texture and less fine flavor than sweetbreads and, of course, is cheaper.

How to Choose 

With the confusion over sweetbreads even among butchers, it is very important that you buy them from a source you can trust. Price is usually a good clue that you have the real thing: remember there are two types: the rounder, smoother heart sweet bread and the longer less compact throat sweetbread. Both sweetbreads are not a solid piece of flesh, but are a collection of nodules held together by a membrane, which will help indicate that you have the real thing. The membrane should be intact and shiny. As with all fragile odd bits, freshness is of utmost importance, so choose sweetbreads that are plump, moist, and white to pale pink in color with no discoloration. Calf sweetbreads, especially from milk-fed animals, are the most highly prized and have the mildest flavor. However, if you find lamb sweetbreads, they are equally good, though they’re smaller. Pork sweetbreads are sometimes available; they have a more distinct flavor and their texture is less refined. Sweetbreads are rich, so about 5 to 6 ounces / 140 to 170 g per person is enough. Sweetbreads can be frozen.

How to Prepare and Cook

Sweetbreads must be prepared as soon as possible after purchase. The first step is to soak them in salted cold water—about 1 teaspoon of coarse sea salt per cup / 250 ml of water—for 4 to 6 hours, changing several times, to remove any blood. Sweetbreads can be braised or even grilled without any advance preparation, but for most recipes they must be poached first.
Tender and creamy, with a delicate flavor, they have long been popular with restaurant chefs, less so with home cooks. HUGH FEARNLEY-WHITTINGSTALL 
Drain the sweetbreads and place them in a saucepan, noting their soft, wobbly texture. Cover the sweetbreads with the cooled Court Bouillon and bring them slowly to a simmer over medium-low heat. If you have no court bouillon, you can cover them with cold water and add a teaspoon of sea salt and a lemon wedge. Check the sweetbreads from time to time; depending on their size, they may be ready even before the water simmers. While they cook, fill a bowl with cold water and add some ice cubes. The sweetbreads are ready when they are just firm to the touch but still have some springiness to them (they are only partially cooked). Slide them into ice water to stop the cooking, then drain them and place them on a board. Remove any fat and gristly, sinewy bits or blood vessels, and then peel off as much of the membrane as you can using a knife. This is much easier to do while the sweetbreads are still warm. Don’t worry if the sweetbreads (especially the throat one) separates into smaller pieces.
Line a pie plate with a clean dish towel and place the peeled sweetbreads on top.
Fold the cloth over the sweetbreads and top with another pie plate. Place a weight, like 2 cans of beans, on the second pie plate and refrigerate for 3 to 4 hours, or until the sweetbreads are firm. Now the sweetbreads are ready to use; they can be kept covered in the refrigerator for up to 2 days. You will notice that a little pink liquid will seep out of the sweetbreads; this is normal. Often your cooked sweetbreads will naturally fall into small pieces, and other times you will be able to cut them into slices. It really doesn’t matter how they are cut; more important is that they are in equal-sized pieces so they cook evenly. While sweetbreads are often added to creamy sauces, I like them with a coating of flour or bread crumbs—this provides a crisp exterior to contrast with the creamy, soft, rich interior. So even if I am serving them in a classic mushroom cream sauce, I dust them in seasoned flour and fry them in clarified butter before adding them to the sauce.
You can use calf or lamb sweetbreads in any of the following recipes. There is no real alternative for sweetbreads, though brains work well in all these preparations. But while sweetbreads are creamy like brains, they have much more substance, body, and flavor. Sweetbreads contain gelatin and albumin, both of which firm up with cooking, giving sweetbreads their unique texture.

Sweetbreads with Orange and Cumin

Serves 2 
The orange and cumin here add a layer of flavor to the sweetbreads, and the juice makes a simple orange butter sauce to serve with them. You can just serve them with the sauce, or serve them over some lettuce leaves, to contrast with the richness of the sweetbreads. To make ½ cup / 125 ml of clarified butter, start with ¾ cup / 6 ounces / 170 g unsalted butter and follow the instructions below. 1 orange 1 egg 2 teaspoons cumin seed, toasted and ground 2 tablespoons flour ¾ cup / 2 ounces / 60 g fine fresh bread crumbs 11½ ounces / 325 g sweetbreads, prepared Coarse sea salt and freshly ground black pepper ½ cup / 125 ml clarified butter Boston or Bibb lettuce leaves (optional)
Preheat the oven to 200°F / 100° C. Place a baking sheet lined with paper towels in the oven. Finely grate the zest from the orange and then squeeze the juice. Whisk the egg with the orange zest, 1 tablespoon of the juice, and the cumin, then pour into a shallow dish. Place the flour in another shallow dish and the bread crumbs in a third shallow dish. Cut the sweetbreads into ½-inch / 1-cm slices. Season the slices with salt and pepper, then dip them into the flour to coat, shaking off the excess. Next, dip the sweetbreads into the egg mixture and then into the bread crumbs. Place the clarified butter in a large frying pan over medium heat. When the butter is hot, add the bread-crumbed sweetbreads in batches, if necessary, and fry until brown, about 10 minutes, turning once. Transfer the sweetbreads to the paper towel–lined baking sheet and keep warm. Carefully pour the remaining orange juice into the pan—it will splutter—and stir with a wooden spoon to deglaze the pan. Transfer the cooked sweetbreads to warmed plates, add 3 or 4 small lettuce leaves, and pour over the pan juices. Serve immediately.

By Jennifer McLagan in the book"Odd Bits : How to Cook the Rest of the Animal" Published in the United States by Ten Speed Press, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, excerpts from pages 88 to 89 & 138 to 145. Adapted to be posted by Leopoldo Costa. 

1 comment:

  1. The only eyes I have ever eaten have been those of fish. Those of both mackerel and red snapper are quite rich tasting and the lens are no more of a problem than the seeds in a grape.

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