I’m sure my mum would forgive me for saying this, but cooking is not one of her many strengths. Raising three children, and with a husband who worked shifts in a steel mill, she was feeding people round the clock, so cooking became a necessity rather than a pleasure – as it will have been for the majority of working-class women in the 1960s and 70s. Since this was before convenience food really hit the shelves, things were cooked from scratch, and in winter, steak and kidney suet pudding was on the menu in our house most weeks. As were liver and onions, mince and potato pies and anything else cheap and cheerful, usually involving lots of animal fat and parts.
The sweet, creamy texture, gamey and pungent, was a delight. I was hooked
One time, my dad managed to get what was then a luxury item: a fresh chicken. It had been killed and plucked on the nearby farm, which meant its internal organs were intact. My dad took the poor bird’s liver and fried it up in a bit of lard. What a revelation: the sweet, creamy texture, gamey and pungent, was a delight. I was hooked.
Fast forward 50 years, and my love for offal continues. I won’t eat tripe, in the same way that I won’t eat my dog when she comes in from the rain (very similar smell), but kidney – and even pig’s head (in brawn) – are totally delicious. To anyone wincing as they read this, just know that every time you’ve eaten sausage, you will have consumed quite a bit of that ingredient. Rennet, which comes from the stomach of a young cow or sheep, is used in some cheeses. And pâté often contains unannounced offal. Oxtail, which makes a delicious stew, is not always recognised as offal – but it is.
I can’t do blood, so black pudding is out for me, but otherwise I’m open to trying anything – including bone marrow, which is not only my favourite gravy ingredient but also very tasty spread on toast, with parsley.
When nose-to-tail eating became popular, it allowed chefs to keep costs down while being inventive. I love the flavourings that go well with such ingredients – vinegar, red wine, citrus, garlic, thyme and rosemary, strong spices, star anise, paprika and mustard.
If my dinner guests are squeamish, I will discreetly add something like liver, kidneys, tongue or brain as an extra ingredient to perk up some other more respectable-looking meat dish. I feel the same about cheap cuts of meat, such as neck of lamb, pig trotters and slowly braised beef shin.
There used to be a touch of machismo around eating it, with some men even bragging that they could take their offal raw. No doubt the word in the gym was that doing so would build both libido and muscle mass. I used to believe, along with many others, that sweetbreads were the testicles of a bull or lamb, but now I know that they are actually the thymus or pancreas glands. If I think about that too carefully, I would be put off, but these are the most delectable portion of the anatomy, because they are so sweet and rich-tasting, and not in the slightest bit gristly.
Although offal flavours are too strong to eat regularly, devilled kidneys on toast can, on occasion, be a thing of beauty. The most important thing is to make sure they are properly prepared, with the membrane removed as well as any bits of connecting tissue.
The moment I see calves’ liver on a restaurant menu, I feel hopeful that the cooking is going to be good. It should be sliced thinly, cooked pink, and paired with crispy sage leaves, a puddle of braised onions, some kind of sweet and sour vinegar and perhaps a few bits of crispy pancetta (though I prefer mine without) – plus of course a mound of decent mashed potato on the side. And ox heart must first be sliced thinly and left until the blood stops flowing, before being seasoned and quickly pan-fried. Perfect with shelled broad beans.
My favourite offal recipe? Without question, chicken liver parfait with spiced apple chutney. The livers are sautéed gently in butter, with added thyme flowers, salt and black pepper and Madeira wine. Once the mixture has cooled, blend with six tablespoons of single cream until smooth and then set in a mould. In the meantime, core and peel a good-quality Granny Smith apple, chop into small chunks and sauté in a little olive oil and a couple of star anise. When softened, add a tablespoon of brown sugar and two of white wine vinegar until brown. Leave to cool while the liver sets, and eat with any bread except that damned sourdough.
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