And with that thought, yesterday's dinner came to a screeching halt.
Swiss Mister had purchased lamb, cooked it to perfection, and taken a first nibble when the fear entered his heart: just what cut of meat had he purchased?
Why did he think it was tongue? Why would it matter? (Like I said, it was very tastily prepared, in typical Swiss Mister fashion.) Also, we had nothing else to eat, so tongue-dinner would have been better than no dinner.
But if there's one thing I learned from Meryl Streep on the train ride from Venice to Milan (the same train ride that our train struck and killed somebody, but that's another story...), it's that capital-D Doubt is a powerful thing. A thing that gets you rooting around in the garbage bin, looking for the receipt from the Metzgerei (butcher).
With the help of our intrepid friend Google Translate, we learned the following:
Nierstück = sirloin.
Nothing is simple in der Schweiz, not even a simple dinner. Not for these simpletons, anyway.
I didn't think it looked like tongue.
ReplyDeleteAt least it didn't look like the calf's tongue on the butcher block in my father's shop (way back in the good old days). I'd try not to stare at this strange piece of meat as I walked past and I'd feel a vague but genuine horror. So I understand Swiss Mister's revulsion.
It looked enough like tongue that capital D doubt crept in... At a restaurant in Lausanne in 2008 I twice ordered rabbit liver without realizing it until I had eaten a few strange and pasty bites. I used to think of myself as a courageous eater. Now I know the truth.
ReplyDeleteI think the texture of tongue would give it away, no?
ReplyDeleteI think Swiss Mister is an adventurous eater when it comes to tastes, but not textures. And once there's a question mark in his mind, well...
ReplyDeleteNo, it didn't really look/taste like tongue, but then again I have never eaten lamb tongue, so I'm not exactly sure what I was basing that on.