Last night’s pork liver taught me that ginger is a good way to get some of the liverness out of liver. I can’t say that I enjoy liver; I have a weird food relationship with it. While I’m not repulsed by it, sometimes I just can’t stomach it. So I began to prepare breakfast by first mincing and then sautéing a generous amount of ginger. Once it was cooked a little and the fragrance had filled my kitchen, I added the leftover liver from yesterday’s dinner with a small amount of the congee. I was successful in creating a liver based meal that I would eat again, maybe not happily, but perhaps with a little bit of tweaking it could be a dish that I look forward to.
Lunch was rushed since the day was far too busy. Worse still, I had eaten last night’s leftovers for breakfast, so I had to venture out to find some pork. With no time to spare, convenience was key, so I turned to my rushed lunch staple: pork buns. They qualify as great convenience food because they nail the three qualifications: fast, tasty and portable. That’s why sandwiches are such a perfect meal, and the pork bun is just another variation on the sandwich.
I didn’t need to eat much anyways because I was holding out for dinner tonight. My cousin Teresa had invited me to The Black Hoof, a meatarian’s paradise located a little off the beaten path in Toronto. They specialize in salumi (aka “charcuterie” in popular parlance), offal and rustic preparations of items that have fallen out of favour. I can’t remember if it was Gordon Ramsay or Jamie Oliver who called it one of their favourite restaurants, but the place was popular before they said it and remains so. Their “no reservations” policy forces people to wait on the sidewalk until space is available and my cousin tells me that during a recent contest to determine the best “agent”, getting reservations at The Black Hoof was one of the categories. Nobody succeeded.
Not wanting to wait outside, we arrived early. I advised the waiter that I had some dietary restrictions and his initial fear of me possibly being a self-aggrandizing and judgmental vegetarian turned to elation when I told him that I was a self-aggrandizing and judgmental omnivore who could only eat pork. “You’ve come to the right place” he said.
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| The Black Hoof's menu board |
Teresa ordered the beef bone marrow, it looked good, but I had to pass. Besides, although she said it tasted great, I thought it could have used a little longer under the broiler. I had the Blood Custard (aka sanguinaccio), which was like a pork blood based crème brulee. It was alternatively sweet and meaty and had a heavy perfume of rosemary which happens to be my favourite herb. The blood custard is weird to look at with its dark red colour, but it hits all the right notes.
Next, we moved on to the Cured Meats Board and the Terrine Platter, our server kindly confirmed what was pork and what was beef. At $20 a meat platter, Teresa and I joked that our family was probably sitting on a couple hundred thousand worth of salami. That’s not to take anything away from the dishes, both were amazing. They clearly know what they’re doing when it comes to salumi. The meat platter came with a ball of something that looked like butter but wasn’t. When asked, our server confirmed my suspicion: it was whipped pork lard with rosemary. Teresa was sure to remind me that I had pork lard in my fridge, but it wasn’t necessary, I was already one step ahead of her.
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| Whipped pork lard...like meaty butter |
We closed out the meal with pork carnitas tacos. Their filling was cooked perfectly and the squeeze of lime gave it a hit of acid to brighten the meat.
One final note about the restaurant, something that really resonates with me: all of the fantastic food on offer is prepared in a small kitchen that is equipped with an electric range. To all the people who think that you need $10k Viking stove and a showcase kitchen to cook a great meal, the Black Hoof has its middle finger pointing directly at you.
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