It’s not glamorous fare that we eat – it’s simple, easy to prepare, and crowd pleasing. It’s also extremely hearty, like something you’d find in the Midwest on a cold winter’s day. For each meal, we’re usually served meat and a starch, although occasionally a few vegetables are snuck in.

I imagine it’s rather hard to feed a bunch of foodies twice a day. The kitchen crew is constantly changing the menu so we don’t get too bored. My favorites are the pork chops and pieces of steak cooked rare. Side dishes are usually pasta with butter, mashed potatoes with leftover cheese, or stewed cabbage.

Meal times are like a cattle call. I’m quietly working away at the amuse bouche station when I’m suddenly surrounded by people. It’s a sign that the food’s nearly ready, and everyone waits in anticipation. When it’s finally set on the counter, there’s a mad crush of bodies, all vying for the best parts. You don’t want to show up late with this group or you’ll be left with a few bones and burnt pieces of potato. Then as quickly as everyone appears, they vanish downstairs to wolf down their food in ten minute’s time.

Occasionally, we will be served something I eye with caution – veal’s brain, sausage made from unidentifiable pork parks, veal head, liver, and this week something new. Cow’s tongue.

I’ve never eaten tongue before – at least not that I can remember. I have seen it bathing under the florescent lights in the grocery store, but only looked at it with mild curiosity never hunger. But on this particular day, I was late to work and had to skip breakfast. My stomach was growling and needed nourishment. I gingerly slipped a piece of tongue on my plate and looked at with a wary eye.

Sitting down for a brief moment, I poked at the meat with my fork. Honestly, it didn’t look all that bad. I removed the “skin” part with the taste buds and hid it under a crust of bread. I didn’t want to be reminded of what I was eating as I was lifting a forkful to my mouth. The meat was fork tender, kind of like a pot roast. On the palate, it was soft, with a steak-like flavor. As I thoughtfully chewed my first bite, I realized it wasn’t that bad. I was almost like any other cut of beef.

But after a few forkfuls, a memory hit me like an anvil. When I was young, there were cows in the field next to our house. I used to watch them over the barbwire-topped fence as they casually chewed their cud and stared back. Occasionally they would deftly open their mouths and stick their long tongues up their noses. I’m sure this is absolutely acceptable in the cow world where they don’t have Kleenex. After all, it’s good to keep one’s nose clean. But the idea that the piece of meat now on my tongue had been up a cow’s nostril was not all that pleasant. I swallowed my half-chewed meat and instead focused on my potatoes.

Would I eat tongue again? I guess I would – as long as certain memories are kept at bay. It’s not all that bad actually. Perhaps you’d even like it. Guess you’ll need to be more careful next time I cook for you!

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