Lingbo's Awesome Blog » Offal

Eating Toro’s beef hearts; Ken Oringer

Lingbo Li — Sat, 20 Feb 2010 16:13:56 +0000

My snapshot of Toro's sliced beef heart

Thinly sliced beef heart at Ken Oringer’s Toro. My dining partner was a little apprehensive at first, but pronounced the finished product akin to roast beef – I’d say it’s more fine grained. I love how offal can look so innocuous but surprise you with a certain intensity of flavor or texture. Like their sweetbreads – my first, actually. I’ll post pictures of those later.

I got into an interesting debate with a Facebook commenter. See our exchange:

Lingbo Li Ran into tweep @simonepress who was sitting next to me at @tororestaurant – how cool and random! Had the corn, beef hearts, short rib – yum!
Wed at 11:18am via Unnamed App Custom: loading… · Comment · LikeUnlike · View Feedback (11)Hide Feedback (11)

Commenter
My stomach just turned upside down.
Wed at 11:36am ·

Lingbo Li
It was sliced very thin and put on a slice of bread – it tasted more like roast beef than anything else.
Wed at 11:39am ·

Commenter
Try endangered sea turtle eggs. Not bad.
Wed at 12:11pm ·

Lingbo Li
Beef hearts are not endangered… the ethics are completely different.
Wed at 12:31pm ·

Commenter
Well…..it depends the country ur at where the “When in rome” qoute applies. I still get skeeved from the idea of consuming hearts of animals…i can imagine it was once beating.
Wed at 12:33pm ·

Lingbo Li
Thinking something is “gross” is not the same as thinking it is unethical – you can think brussel sprouts are gross, but that’s a personal preference, not a ethical or necessarily cultural one. A piece of beef was once moving as well – it’s muscle, just like the heart is muscle. The ethical argument for eating hearts would be that it’s making use of something that would normally be thrown away, meaning less waste and respecting every part of the animal.
Wed at 1:08pm ·

Commenter
Lemme just think ….what would Hannibal Lector do?

So I’ve gotten comments before on the ethics of what I eat. One person criticized me for eating whale steak (it was from the mink whale, which is not endangered), while some of the stuff I eat is just kind of gross. I mean, I don’t expect everyone to spring for calves brains. I do happen to think that eating offal is one the most ethical and delicious things you can do to reduce waste, but the knee-jerk grossout reaction from some people is saddening.

And if you’re curious who this Ken Oringer is, photographer Andy Ryan took a bunch of photos of the Burger Bash and happened to capture some of me. (I’m not BFFs with Ken! I talked to him for about five minutes. And ragged on his Red Sox chefs whites.)

Photos with celebs are interesting – I always feel like they only exist to simulate a relationship that doesn’t exist, a fleeting fame-by-association.

Me with Boston restaurateur Ken Oringer, photo by Andy Ryan, courtesy of Chris Lyons

Tony Maws’ Fried Pigs’ Tails at Craigie on Main, Cambridge

Lingbo Li — Sun, 17 Jan 2010 04:52:12 +0000

Despite ordering very, very little at Craigie on Main (a cocktail and splitting an appetizer), my dining companion and I were treated like long lost family.

Northern Lights

I probably have not been so coddled and swathed in love since I wore Mao-printed onesies as an infant. Despite explicitly only ordering drinks, we sat at a table, had a full bread basket brought to us, and finished off with two complimentary petite madeleines (which were unremarkable, but a nice touch).

Parked with one drink each and their famous fried pigs’ tails ($11), we camped out for three full hours.

If this were my restaurant, I probably would have kicked me out.

This is probably why I don’t run a restaurant.

Craigie, for the uninitiated, is a chef-owned restaurant that focuses on nose-to-tail cooking and local sourcing. The chef, Tony Maws, won Food & Wine’s Best New Chef last year. He worships at a porcine altar. I was told they now serve half a pig’s head. (Mark my words, I’ll be back to eat it.) When I ate there before, we were served a stuffed pig’s foot; a risotto dotted with cocks comb and blood sausage; and cured pork jowls. There’s obviously tamer stuff like a reputedly excellent burger, but for someone who is all about the quirky eats, the menu is my idea of Disneyland. I literally squeal and flap my hands – it can be quite embarrassing for my friends.

During our three hours, our waiter doted on us like the kindest and most selfless of grandfathers.

“Do you like your drink?” he asked, looking concerned. I had finished perhaps a quarter of it. It was very strong.

“Oh yeah, it’s fine,” I replied.

“I noticed you haven’t drank very much of it,” he remarked. “Just want to make sure…” Then he offered to make something else if this one didn’t tickle my pathetically-unable-to-imbibe fancy.

I said something about having the alcohol tolerance of a malnourished toddler.

Fried pigs' tails

Those famous fried pig tails? Each bite was unnerving. I hadn’t realized that a pig’s tail is mostly uh, fat. Think of it like a petite, very fatty version of a chicken drumstick or a spare rib – a small bone encased in a rich, lip-smacking casing of fat that leaves you feeling a bit stickier for the wear. Pile them up like ruby jewels, top them in a crown of delicately sliced onion rings, and sauce them in fine ethnic fashion (Vietnamese – garlicky, a bit of a chili kick), and you have what Food & Wine declared one of the best dishes under $12 in the country. I think the dish could have benefited from some extra dipping sauce on the side for the condiment-obsessed. It was the kind of thing where you would want to knaw endlessly on one tail, probably no more. I love fat as much as the next human being, but really, I wasn’t kidding when I said these babies just seem to dissolve into a fatty uber-substance upon mouth contact. I began slowing down around pig tail #4.

When we finally left – it was around midnight – I walked out in a kind of golden haze. Part of me wonders if my blogging ways might have accounted for the superlative treatment. (It turns out that an acquaintance actually works there.) I’ve done a proper meal of a tasting menu there when I just started blogging and had great service, but I’m curious to know what your experiences have been.

Which doesn’t take away from the fact It was a magical evening that utterly overdelivered on service. Which makes up for all those times elsewhere when I sulked into an improperly dressed salad, or tried to flag down an errant waiter.

Hospitality industry, you redeem thyself.

Weird Eats: Bull penis and live scorpions. Also, Starbucks coffee.

Lingbo Li — Sat, 05 Sep 2009 01:14:06 +0000

My sojourn to Beijing was marked mostly by my daily (nay, twice daily) visits to the altar of that is holy in the Middle Kingdom: Starbucks, charmingly translated/transliterated as “星巴克” (xing ba ke). There, I soothed my cultureshock embattled soul with endless tall iced coffees; occasionally, I’d spring for a muffin or biscotti, which tasted excruciatingly American. It was like imbibing a potent concoction of NASCAR, Elvis, Old Glory, and apple pie.

When I wasn’t ensconced in Starbucks, I’d be wandering the streets, trying to find a nice, small eat. As I made my way down Beijing’s Wangfujin shopping street, I found their “xiao chi jie,” or snack street.

I knew they sold weird crap on sticks, but I had no idea that the scorpions on those skewers are actually alive. Best of all, the sellers would occasionally give the counter a slap, just so the little critters would wriggle their sad, doomed little legs. Can’t you hear their anguished cries? Neither can I.

Just to prove they’re alive, I uploaded a video.

I actually didn’t eat this, since I got a case of sticker shock. 20 kuai! For a kebab!! Of scorpions!!!

But I did what comes next: bull penis on a stick. I’ve totally emasculated that poor animal, brains, balls, and all.

Mmm. Uhhh. This is unpleasant. My male friend also gave it a try.

What does it taste like? Not very good. But it also wasn’t prepared very well – it had gotten very gummy and had an unpleasantly gluey texture. The texture varied from the shaft, which was wider and had a harder, almost cartilage-like core, to the tip, which was just gooey nothing.

I don’t think i want to repeat the experience anytime soon, but maybe I can blame it on poor preparation.

To cap it off, here are some photos from the Forbidden City, predictably overrun by tourists, including this overzealous Chinese woman covered by not only a parasol, but also a towel and sunglasses (not pictured).

Look how intense that is!!!

Lingbo eats bull balls: THE VIDEO.

Lingbo Li — Wed, 26 Aug 2009 22:03:50 +0000

So in celebration of my homecoming to the magical, wonderful country that is the United States of America (sing it, sister!), I post this video. I edited it while sitting next to a smelly, discontented woman on a 12 hour flight.

This flight also involved me being convinced I had boarded the wrong plane, since I got on and woke up in Shanghai rather than Los Angeles. Oh no, I cried, then went in panic to the flight attendant (who was tall, pale, slender, and pretty, like all Chinese flight attendants are). I got on the wrong plane! I’m in the wrong city!!!

Turns out I just had to transfer twice in my quest to make it back to the east coast of America.

Anyway, I’m delighted to be home… i’m delighted to find clean bathrooms, and English-speaking staff, and politeness to strangers, and TWITTER, and FACEBOOK, and oh my god… You have no idea how great it is to be home. How great it is to know the names of things, and be able to communicate with people, and yes, feel a little skinnier in comparison.

This is my first video that I have ever edited beginning to end, so be kind… the musical selection is the Arctic Monkeys’ “Mardy Baum,” in case you are interested.

So here’s my video of when I ate balls with my BFF Marianna at KO Prime in Boston. This was back in May/June or so, but didn’t get around to editing it until now. Enjoy! Expect more stuff like this to come.

Many thanks

Balls!

Lingbo Li — Thu, 04 Jun 2009 05:57:55 +0000

I got an email from my waiter at KO Prime which began, “hey! the eagle as landed.” I have only tomorrow night to eat the dish that I suggested (artfully prepared bull testicles), and I’d love, nay, require some adventurous company. Harvard and Bostonian friends, let me know if you’re up for it: lingboli [at] fas.harvard.edu

I eat brains; there is a video.

Lingbo Li — Wed, 06 May 2009 01:24:08 +0000

Testicles.

Lingbo Li — Sat, 11 Apr 2009 20:42:53 +0000

So after my food column debut in the Crimson (a day in Chinatown), I have a few other columns in the works. I think one of my favorite kinds of food adventures is the complete gross-out.

Which is why I need to know if you know where to get testicles. Not frozen ones from the supermarket. Because I can’t really cook, and I’d like to give testicular-induced culinary joy its best shot.

So pray tell, gentle readers: what restaurant in Boston serves balls?

$1 Sliders Night at Match Martinis and Burgers

“Like a barnyard in your mouth”: JoJo Taipei in Allston

Lingbo Li — Sun, 18 Jan 2009 18:50:32 +0000

It’s funny how your original goal (to introduce Dan to Chinese shaved ice) can morph into something utterly unrecognizable. In an epic rock-paper-scissors battle, it was decided that the spot would be JoJo Taipei in Allston. And when I saw pig intestines on the menu, how could I resist?

Actually, pig intestine showed up in 2 of the appetizers and 3-4 of the entrees. There was pig intestine in “fire casserole” (unclear), pig intestine in you noodles, pig intestine fried, pig instead steamed. It was a heaven of porcine entrails.

But that left many more options, since it would be hard to make a meal entirely of intestine. The waitress dropped off our complimentary roasted peanuts and pickled cabbages (delicious) and I did the ordering in Chinese. She seemed determined to speak Chinese, actually – usually waitresses pick up that my language skills are a little rusty, and switch over to English, but Dan only got a few quick admonitions to use his spoon and I did the ordering.

“We’re not very hungry,” I explained, requesting some suggestions.

“Ok, I’ll bring over stinky tofu and ‘xiao long bao’ (soup dumplings) then,” she replied immediately, already writing down our order. I was relieved to not have to make any decisions.

My camera crapped out after one picture, so dear blog reader, you will be treated to a far fancier camera this post.

Stinky Tofu

Stinky tofu arrived first. As soon as she set it down, the eponymous stink immediately hit you – like a breeze had blown over a manure pile. The dish itself was pretty disappointing – dry, with a the texture of a delicate sponge, and flavoring came only from a thin chili sauce that refused to cling to the fried surface of the tofu. Dan took one bite and made a face. “Like a barnyard in your mouth,” he said. I found that subsequent pieces didn’t have the same effect. You get used to the smell very fast.

Pig Intestine

Here is the pig intestine, with a nice peanutty dipping sauce and stuffed with chives. It reminded me a lot of the meat found on pig’s feet, with the same chewy, gelatinous quality.

Xiao Long Bao - soup dumpling

Our waitress brought his over, along with soup soons. I was confused on eating technique and just popped the whole thing in my mouth and struggled not to let a boiling mouthful of soup and pork overcome my physical capacities. Definitely something you have to eat hot. The skin of these buns are unleavened, so they have a thinner, translucent quality.

Bao Bing - Shaved ice with toppings

Finally, dessert time. It said to choose 3 toppings, but the waitress just smiled and said she’d put everything on a large shaved ice for us. It arrived on an enormous platter, every bit as bizarrely and richly satisfying as I remember – kidney beans, mung beans, red beans, tapioca pearls, condensed milk, some kind of sweet syrup, soft, mealy peanuts, all haphazardly lobbed onto a fluffy, finely grated bed of ice.

A worthy finale to an adventurous meal.

Tapioca pearls, peanuts, other kinds of goodness

Trinity: Duck, chocolate creme brulee, cooked blood.

Lingbo Li — Thu, 15 Jan 2009 19:44:51 +0000

Slow roasted duck, braised escarole, roasted fingerlings, Sicilian olives (Rialto, The Charles Hotel)

Blood with scallions - probably duck or goose blood. (Somewhere in Flushing, Queens)

Chocolate creme brulee, Cafe of Love in Mt. Kisco