Special Series: Guts n Glory

Now that the whole country seems to be counting nickles and dimes, offal is making a comeback. There is more demand for the cheaper cuts of meat that, sadly, have been overshadowed by the safe and sterile skinless boneless chicken breasts and fat free ground turkey that glut our grocer's meat section.

I will begin a series for those among you who are curious to know more about these bits and pieces, oft overlooked by mainstream American food culture.

The last post, "Liver Let Die," was a gentle start. Let's now delve into something gutsier: Tripe.

Tripe refers to the stomach lining of ruminant animals (such as cows, sheep). There are three types that are commonly used for cooking: reticulum (honeycomb and pocket tripe), rumen (blanket/smooth/flat tripe), and omasum (book/bible/leaf tripe).

Trippa alla Romana calls for honeycomb, which has a relatively mild aroma and spongy texture. The sponginess allows the tripe to absorb the cooking flavors nicely. Here's what it looks like:



Two main rules of thumb for preparing tripe:
1) cook immediately after purchasing, as they are highly perishable,
2) set aside several hours to allow for soaking (1 hour in 3 changes of water) and cook time (2 hours).

Trippa alla romana is a honeycomb tripe stewed with carrots, onion, crushed tomatoes and white wine.

INGREDIENTS:
1 lb. Honeycomb tripe
¼ cup White vinegar
1½ tsp. Vanilla extract
5 Tbsp. Extra-virgin olive oil, divided use
2 Carrots, cut in ¼-in. diagonal slices
1 Red onion, cut in ¼-in. slices
1 Celery rib, cut in ¼-in. slices
2 Garlic cloves, roughly chopped
1 cupWhite wine
1 cupCanned crushed tomatoes, with juice
4 Sage leaves
Kosher salt as needed
Freshly ground black pepper as needed
6 slicesCrusty peasant bread, grilled or toasted
Garlic clove, halved
Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese as needed

Rinse and soak tripe in cold water one hour, changing the water every 15 minutes.



Place tripe in large pot and fill with water to cover. Add vinegar and vanilla to soften the pungency, cover, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to simmer; cook for an hour and a half or until tender.

Drain and transfer to a bowl of ice water until chilled. Slice into 1/2 inch strips (traditional) or 1/2 inch squares (the way I like it).

Heat 3 Tbsp. oil in a sautépan until just smoking; add carrots, onion, celery and chopped garlic. Sauté over medium heat until tender and light gold, 8 to 10 minutes.



Add wine and tomatoes; bring to a boil. Add tripe, sage, salt and pepper. Let simmer 30 minutes.



Rub each slice of grilled bread with the cut side of the halved garlic clove and brush 1 side with remaining 2 Tbsp. olive oil. Halve each slice diagonally.

Serve tripe hot with freshly grated Parmigiano Reggiano and bread.

*Post Script: I forgot to fill you in on what it was like to make this and how it turned out. While I've eaten it before (several times, unsuccessfully. Two bad menudo experiences were redeemed by a delicious smoky Chinese preparation.) First of all, the tripe itself is a strange but not altogether repulsive piece of flesh. And it doesn't smell--which I expected it to--thanks to some much appreciated processing. It did seem completely un-foodlike until the dish was totally finished, more like industrial sponge than meat. But the final product was sublime. Tender, mellow pads of tripe drew in the sumptuous sauce, which is so much more than the sum of its onion, carrot, celery, wine, and tomato parts.

Do I recommend this recipe to everyone? With caveats. If you like to cook and you like a challenge, or if you are trying to broaden your palette, by all means. If you have ever, even once, liked tripe, you must try this. If you retch a little at the pictures above, maybe start with a nice beef stew and get back to me.