Eating the bull’s heart

Most storebought food, and especially junk food, including coke and potato chips, never graced our threshold. My granny was too old world (and far too poor) for any modern prepared convenience food, or junkfood. We ate whatever was served. When a neighbor’s bull was slaughtered, or a goat or deer, we pretty much ate everything. But sometimes my grandmother would venture forth, read an exotic recipe and become inspired. Some culinary adventures like the salmon croquettes were lovely, however frozen squid in its own ink, was beyond atrocious. And menudo. Ugh.

I remember watching my grandmother skinning the cow’s tongue after she boiled it. It looked awful on the platter, but it made good sandwiches. Good disguise. I found the beef heart to be more of a challenge. Our neighbors had bumped off Thumbelina, a nasty misnamed stroppy Hereford-Jersey bull calf that grew up to be a menace whenever he escaped the corral, which was often. One time he treed me up a poison oak-infested utility pole. That was the beginning of the end of his demise. So, in compensation, we were gifted the heart and tongue. She boiled, then baked that heart with garlic and rosemary. However, I must admit, we ate his heart with gusto.

1/7/22