LASHON TOV - A GOOD TONGUE

Ever since it turned out that the American Beef Industry had been lying through their giant bovine molars about mad-cow disease, I have avoided beef. I know that the chances of infection are minimal, given that it is rare, and animal-based animal feed has been eliminated from the diet of most cows (or so we are told), but still.

It isn't just about the risk.

I do not like being lied to about my food.

This came back to me after reading about the Monsey chicken scandal (about which don't ask - it's a complicated matter that has caused much gorge to rise elsewhere, and if you don't already know about it, you can easily find out - or check any of the heimishe blogs if you are that curious).


Food suppliers should not lie about what they sell.
And if they don't have all the answers about their merchandise, they should not be in business.


Still, it's a pity. About the beef.
I very much like a nice spot of beef.


So, as an exercise in masochism, I present for your delectation a recipe.


SAMOR LIDA
[Dark-stewed tongue Indonesian style]

One three-pound beef tongue.
One large onion, sliced thin.
Half dozen cloves garlic, slivered.
Some chopped fresh ginger.
Half cup stock.
Half cup sherry or Chinese rice wine.
Quarter cup sweet soy sauce (ketjap manis).
Quarter cup olive oil.
Two TBS lime juice.
Two TBS wine vinegar.
Half TBS ground coriander.
Half Tsp. each: cayenne, turmeric, dry ginger, ground cumin, whole peppercorns.
Half dozen roma tomatoes, or two beefsteak tomatoes - peeled, seeded, and chopped.
A few bay leaves.
A stalk lemon grass.



Boil tongue in salted water for fifteen minutes. Remove, drain and dry, scrape off the skin and trim the root end. Rinse and dry.

Heat oil in a large chetty. Gild the onion, garlic, and ginger. Remove to a plate. Put the tongue in the chetty and brown all over. Re-add the gilded onion, garlic, and ginger. Add the tomatoes and spices, and cook until the fragrance rises and the bottom starts to crust. Now add the remaining ingredients plus water to cover, and simmer on low for three hours.

Remove tongue and let it cool. Reduce the pan-broth to a velvety pourable thickness, removing the bay leaves and lemon grass. Slice the tongue, arrange fan-wise on a serving plate, and nap with the sauce.


Serve with pan-roasted potatoes and crusty bread to sop up the juices.



Note I: A hot sambal (chili-paste condiment) on the side is most appropriate. I suggest Sambal Purtegis or Sambal Badjak.

Note II: Neither sherry nor rice-wine are ingredients that frumme Indonesian Muslimin would use. This recipe does not hail from a frumme Indonesian Muslim background, but is more Chinese-Indonesian or Indies Dutch in origin (which explains the clear Portugese influence).

Note III: Lemon grass is a plant that, in several varieties, grows throughout much of tropical Asia. Cympogon spp., related to Ceylon grass and citronella. It is available fresh from Thai markets and Vietnamese stores. You might also find it in Arab stores - Hashisha al limoon. The Indonesian name is Serai (Sereh), or, in dialect, sae. There is no real substitute - just omit and add a long twist of lemon zest near the end of the cooking time.

Note IV: KETJAP MANIS - Sweet soy sauce, often available from Dutch import shops in the US, or from Chinese groceries that cater to a diverse market. It is used as an ingredient in many dishes, as a condiment for a few. You can make your own, as follows:

Half cup each: cane sugar, good soy sauce.
Two TBS each: sherry, dark vinegar.
One Tsp. salt.
A whole star-anise, a clove or two, and a piece of dried Chinese orange peel.

Simmer sherry briefly with the salt and solids. Add sugar and half the soy sauce. Heat, gently stirring, till the sugar is dissolved, the liquid appears syrupy, and starts foaming up big-time. Add the remaining soy sauce, swirl to mingle the two liquids, and turn off heat. Cool, strain, and bottle. Use the dark vinegar to swirl the pan and take up the last of the soy syrup, add this to the bottle. Keeps best refrigerated.

Note V: Dried Chinese orange peel: Chan pei. Not strictly speaking the peel of an orange, but of a close relative of the orange - citrus aurantium. It is available in many Chinese grocery stores in packets. For cooking purposes dried tangerine peel may be substituted. Chan pei adds a faint citrus perfume, and the pithy part yields benefits to the digestion. It's contribution is both tonifying and mouth-feel improving.


Oh, and one other thing. It isn't a meal unless there is rice. Just remember that.