Offal: From Smell Aversion to Culinary Revival

The offal that some discard and others champion

Does anyone eat offal? Yes. And not a little of it. Onion liver, tripe with chickpeas, trotters, stewed tongue, lamb brains, sweetbreads, testicles, heart. What causes fainting spells for some when passing the market stall, is considered "a delicacy that uncultured palates fail to appreciate" by others. The conversation starts with a fainting spell from the smell — as one recounts — and ends with recipes, prices, anthropology, and a shopping list.

From market disgust to "delicacy of gods"

The starting point is physical repulsion: walking past the offal section and feeling dizzy from the smell of livers, brains, eyes, tongue, testicles, trotters, and heart. The response comes in a flood. Some argue that meat "smells generally" and that the problem is more visual than olfactory; others believe it is a matter of habit and palates accustomed to processed foods; and others simply list what they eat: asadurilla (mixed grilled meats), liver, chicken sweetbreads, tripe, blood, snout, brain, chicken feet. Offal is the best part of the animal, summarizes one of the most supported positions.

Another nuance points to the same thing from another angle: the rejection stems from the name, not the taste. If it were called "stewed meat," most reluctant diners would eat it. That's the crux: people don't reject what tastes good, they reject what they imagine.

Why did soldiers eat viscera first?

Because they are the first to spoil. A participant recalls that in Journey to the End of the Night, Céline describes how soldiers on the battlefield devoured animal viscera first, just like predators do. The practical explanation trinc: viscera must be eaten as fresh as possible because they deteriorate faster than muscle. Hence, offal has historically been food for total utilization, not a gourmet whim.

The nutritional argument emerges later. One participant argues that lamb brains are basically protein and fat and provide minerals. A deer heart, cut into thin slices, quickly fried and dressed with citrus, is described as spectacular. Chicken hearts and livers, fish roe, and bonito cheeks fall into the same category. None of this is new. What is new is that some champion these cuts precisely because they are cheap.

The problem is no longer disgust: it's finding it

Here the issue changes tack. According to one participant, major retailers barely sell it: one large chain only markets pork and beef, and some cuts simply do not appear on shelves. Behind this lies an economic reasoning: if the entire animal were utilized, necessary production would be lower, and certain cuts — loin, tenderloin — could become cheaper due to a simple drop in demand. Offal ceases to be an eccentricity and becomes food waste discarded due to lack of demand.

The calculation is not closed, but the direction is clear. Less competition for the tenderloin if more people eat snout. And the reasoning reinforces itself: the fewer people want it, the better the prices for those who seek it. This is, in fact, one of the most repeated arguments: ensuring demand does not exceed supply to keep prices contained.

What it costs and where to buy it

The most concrete data in the exchange is modest and very domestic: mackerel at 3.50 euros, in season, with roe or letón (milt), recommended as protein and omega-3 at rock-bottom prices. Around this appears the label of savings applied to whole fish, roe, and bonito cheek. Among the products cited as table staples are:

• Onion liver and grilled liver
• Tripe, zarajos (lamb intestines), trotters, snout, and ear
• Stewed or breaded tongue
• Sweetbreads, brains, testicles, and kidneys
• Chicken feet, blood, and fish roe

There are also cooking tips: liver burns quickly and requires minimal cooking time; kidneys and lamb brains have their quirks; offal availability is "figs to brevas" (seasonal and irregular). And a prediction with irony: if the economic scenario tightens, shops selling menudillos (offal) will return around the corner.

The cultural barrier: you only eat it if you ate it as a child

This is the most repeated hypothesis and the hardest to refute. These foods are either incorporated in childhood or are difficult to adopt as an adult. The stories go in the same direction: children asking for stewed tongue at the bar because they have seen it at home; adults confessing they cannot eat it, spitting it out, and having never tried any of this; those who eat the whole rabbit — tongue, brain, palate, liver, heart, kidneys — discarding only lungs and eyes. For others, even eyes spread on garlic bread cause disgust.

For those wanting to start, the most practical recipe circulating is almost embarrassing: buy pre-cut liver at the butcher, buy jarred caramelized onions, heat oil, and add the liver. Thirty minutes of caramelization saved. They call it Premium lonchafinismo (elite offal eating).

Offal does not need advertising; it needs the market not to hide it and the name not to scare people. Let everyone decide what they prefer: a packaged, memory-less steak or a roasted lamb head with its cheeks, tongue, and palate. After all, the pig is eaten by everyone. Only the piece changes.