Tongue. There is something decidedly old-school about tongue, and especially its smell: corned beef and wartime mess-rooms as well as an animal hit of dog food.
It is pure muscle. There are no bones and once the slightly weird looking bit at the bottom where it attaches to the mouth has been trimmed away there is no gristle. Having been already poached for another dish and then frozen this ox's tongue had already had its skin peeled off and was ready to go. I decided to go for green sauce as a suitably peppy sauce and serve it with mash and some simple vegetables.
My green sauce = lots of parsley, a good amount of olive oil and much smaller amounts of Dijon mustard, raw garlic, capers, caper juice, red wine vinegar, salt and pepper. But I get the impression you can fiddle around plenty and that its make-up differs greatly from country to country. Other things with big and bashy flavours would be welcome: anchovy, dried chilli, herbs.
The tongue was cut into strips and cooked in a heavy cast-iron griddle. It was served with white asparagus which wouldn't perhaps have been first choice but needed eating. Something a bit humbler would be better here maybe - swede, carrots, cabbage, sprouts.
Check the angel wings Fergus Henderson talks about
The tongue is bouncy and meaty. I feel that freezing may have toughened the outer layer somewhat but the inside part was very nice and looked the part with the charred griddle lines.
Halva for pudding.