“Ick: lamb tongues”, was the text message I sent. “No: YUM!”, was what my Blackberry ba-doinked back in rapid response. Ahead was my assignment to prepare pickled lamb tongues, and truly, I don’t believe I’ve ever started a day where I flung off the covers with a hankering to eat lamb tongues, pickled or otherwise. I eat meat, including many of the so-called “nasty bits” – sweetbreads, liver, and lord knows what else I’ve put down my gullet at 3:00 a.m. chowing down from street vendors in Mexico after a long night out with friends and mas tequila. But I was having an issue with the lamb. With preparing the lamb tongues.

Ever dutiful, I set off to Cleveland’s West Side Market where one can find all manner of offal, and promptly located the tongues. That’s where a wave of quease set in (actually the second of the day as earlier I subjected myself to trying tripe in Chinatown and hopefully, someday, will put that gives-me-the-shivers experience behind), and once purchased, placed them way out of sight at the bottom of my bag; far out of sight so I could somehow deny the mottled little lappers were in there.

Once home, I had to reckon with the tongues head on. Giving them a thorough rinse in cold water, they drained in a metal colander for a moment and for the first time gave a good long gander at what was before me. A photograph of them at this point seemed somewhat obscene – the tongues detached from whence they came and so…so…nude and so bleatless, the silence of the…as it were. Then I became ticked off at myself, gave myself a mental slap and snapped out of it – here was an opportunity to take on what I believe in; to recognize that these animals had died so we could consume them, and out of respect to those lambs I would appreciate and handle with honor the parts I had before me. The vision in my sink slowly, yet surely, changed from one of revulsion, to one of beauty.

I gently nestled the fleshy organs into a cure of kosher salt, sugar and spices in one of my grandmother’s earthenware crocks where they would remain for the next six days. Each day they were moved around mindfully so the seasonings could redistribute and perform their magical ju-ju. A note jotted at day four read “becoming leather-like and gnarly”. Day six brought a thorough rinsing off of the cure, and into a pot of wine, vinegar and other savory ingredients they went to simmer for two hours time. My house smelled like a proper deli. The tongues then cooled in the seasoned liquid where they can now remain refrigerated and ready for consumption for up to one month.

Peeling was the next step before tasting, which was easily accomplished with the aid of a sharp paring knife. I sliced off a thin sliver, took a tentative bite, whereupon the delightful texture and piquancy of the pickled tongue grabbed me right away. I thought “YUM!” is right! I whipped up one of my favorite sauces, a green goddess recipe from Alice Waters that is bright, herbaceous, acidic yet lush, and knew it would be the perfect compliment for the sliced tongue. Served with a little mound of mache, or lamb’s tongue lettuce, the dish was impeccable –truly delicious. Not “ick” at all.

Tongues nestled in the dry cure

Day four in the cure

Upper tongue peeled

An economical dish, to boot.

Chez Panisse Green Goddess Dressing
Yield: approximately 1 1/2 cups
By Alice Waters via Heidi Robb

Ingredients:
• 1 small shallot, minced
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
• 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
• 2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
• 1 large egg yolk, at room temperature, pasteurized (optional)
• 1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
• 1/2 ripe avocado
• 3 tablespoons chopped parsley
• 1 tablespoon chopped tarragon
• 1 tablespoon chopped basil
• 1 tablespoon chopped cilantro
• 1 tablespoon chopped chives
• Salt and freshly ground pepper

Directions:
1. In a small bowl, combine the shallot with the garlic, vinegar and lemon and lime juices. Let stand for 5 minutes.
2. In a medium bowl, beat the yolk with a whisk.
3. Gradually add half of the olive oil in a thin drizzle to the yolk, whisking constantly.
4. Add 1 tablespoon of liquid from the shallot mixture, then whisk the yolk mixture into the remaining olive oil.
5. Add the avocado and mash it in with a fork.
6. Whisk in the remaining shallot mixture and the herbs, and season with salt and pepper.