But her face fell when we made it to the meat. “Where are all the good things?” she asked. And she wasn’t talking about this boneless, skinless, flavorless white meat, white-bread chicken breast we call high-end. She wanted offal, which isn’t nearly as awful as it sounds, and a hearty helping of all those body parts that remind us of what we’re really eating. Head, tails, and feet, oh my.
“Grandma, we don’t eat those things here,” I whispered. She understood but then her brow furrowed and she asked the question I couldn’t answer, “Then where does it all go?”
It took me 16 years to find an answer to her question: Animal. Turns out, the parts those stores won’t sell, those parts end up at an unmarked West Hollywood restaurants that still insists on having a name.
Animal doesn’t beat around the bush – it cuts right to the chase with Chicken Liver Toast, the smoothest mousse in town with a sweet berry compote on top. If I’d had a drink that night, I would gladly toast to that no-foie-gras spinoff.
Then there’s nothing like pigs in a blanket to get my southern girl spirit spinning…except this is Pig Ear in blanket, tucked protectively under an earmuff of an egg. I’ve seen plenty of pig parts, but this is the first time I’ve seen a non-Chinese restaurant lend me their ears. Interesting use of it here, but as someone grew up on the crunch of copious cartilage, I can’t help but feel like this particular preparation removed everything that made it an ear, turning textureless and tasteless, while soaking it in a vinegar that stings and a chili that burns.
Sure you gnaw off the meat, but there’s a reason we make broth from stock and leave the bone in our ribeyes. All the flavor seeps from inside or lies beneath if you dig deep, and the Marrow Bone with a little kick of chimichurri and some sweet caramelized onion didn’t disappoint.
My dining companion gave me a lot of…stuff you find in intestines, another organ no one orders, for ordering something else that no one should order at a restaurant called Animal: the Shishito Peppers. Drowned by a bizarrely fishy gray paste with way too much lemon and an even more bizarre, leafy katsuobushi didn’t win any points from my palate.
It’s not a good meal without a nice piece of tail towards the end. The Poutine with oxtail gravy is pretty good with all that melty cheddar, but I just never really got into fancy poutine. I get that fries drenched in gravy are awesome, but fries make poor spoons so when you’re scooping shredded stuff it’s becomes an ordeal to eat.
You can’t make a meal solely out of the bizarre and the uncommon. These Barbeque Pork Belly Sandwiches are a family favorite…because they could come from any table and be made by any family. The sauce is sweet, and the fatty belly is so juicy it practically drips off your chin but neither is unique or memorable. I already don’t love slaw, and this stuff was dripping with liquid mayo and looked like something that goes straight from bulk bucket to lunch line. I scraped it off.
No one throws away bacon, but Animal still manages to make it in a way that few people would dare. The Bacon Chocolate Crunch Bar combines savory with sweet and chewy with crunch. The ice cream adds a bold bite of black pepper, and what could have been a boring dish turns into the most exciting thing I’ve had all night.
All those years ago, when Grandma asked me where all the good things go, I didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth. Because I think the truth is cat food, but now thanks to Animal, I’ll never need to tell her that. But Grandma was right, we do throw the best parts away. And although I wasn’t blown away, I can say with some conviction that Animal is a damn good example of just how good the best parts can be.
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