Offally good

I was at a friend's house a few weeks ago, and she offered me a few organ meats, called offal in other locales, to take home:  liver, heart, and tongue, to be specific.  I gladly accepted.  My grandparents were farmers, and they wasted nothing.  Scrapple and head cheese were common fare, and I loved second helpings on kidneys and liver.

Yesterday found me in a bit of a quandry.  What should I cook for supper?  I betook myself to the freezer to ponder the situation.  Aha!  Tongue!  Just the thing!  I dumped it unceremoniously into a pot and covered it with water.  When it had cooked enough to thaw, I emptied the water, stuck a few cloves in various locations, cut up and onion and a carrot, and added a couple of fresh bay leaves and some dried thyme. 

Cooking tongue

The afternoon turned out to be a bit hectic, so I picked up a pizza for a quick meal and let the tongue simmer all evening.

Today I reheated the tongue, pulled off the skin, then sliced it and served it with potatoes and a horseradish mustard. As I savored every bite, I thought of my friend gratefully  

Sliced and ready to serve

Ahhh!  Her loss, my gain.  I'm so glad for my rural roots.