Anthony Bourdain on the popularity of offal.
I have become increasingly interested in the pleasures of offal, even evangelical about it. Again and again, in Vietnam, Brazil, Singapore, Mexico, Portugal, France, even England, I have found that a tradition of skillfully prepared hooves, snouts, shanks, innards and “scraps” is a vital part of a nation’s culinary culture; it is essential training for proud cooks. If you have developed, over time, an ability and an inclination to coax flavor and texture out of the nasty bits, chances are you really know how to cook a chicken or a steak.
So often, the dishes created from poverty and necessity – like feijoada in Brazil, haggis in Scotland or menudo in Mexico – become national treasures, points of pride, cornerstones of cultural identity. At the same time, there seems to be an increasing interest in offal among the food cognoscenti; as an example, the restaurant St. John, in London – which serves spleen, trotters, ox hearts and bone marrow – has become a must-go stop on the international travel circuit of the food elites. Onglet, jarret, sweetbreads and, recently, pork belly have all become hot menu items on the East and West Coasts of the United States, and are slowly spreading in popularity.