Home › The Principles of Cookery › Veal Tendons, Stewed
Veal Tendons, Stewed
Cut the tendons off the breast of veal, leaving the flap of meat on the ribs, and divide them into pieces six inches long. Wrap these in slices of fat bacon, tie them with twine, and place them in a saucepan on a bed of sliced vegetables, consisting of a carrot, a turnip, an onion, a few outer sticks of celery, a bunch of parsley, a sprig of thyme, a bay-leaf, eight peppercorns, three cloves, a blade of mace, a strip of lemon-rind, and a little salt. Pour over them as much stock or water as will cover them, and let them simmer gently till they look almost transparent and are so tender that they can be pierced easily with a skewer. Take them up carefully, put them between two dishes, and leave them till cold. Strain the gravy in which they were simmered, remove the fat from it, and boil it till considerably reduced. Trim the tendons, heat them in their own gravy, glaze them with it, dish them in a circle, pour a little of the gravy round them, and send the rest to table in a tureen. Serve cooked vegetables in the centre of the dish. Green peas, stewed spinach, stewed sorrel, mixed vegetables, and artichoke puree may accompany them, also tomato or mushroom sauce. Time to simmer the tendons, four hours. Probable cost, uncertain, tendons being usually sold with the breast of veal.
This is the classic French tendrons de veau under an English name: not tendon in the sinew sense but the soft rib cartilage at the end of the breast bones, braised until it turns to gelatine. Nearly everything here hangs on cooking them long enough that the cartilage goes translucent.
- What the "tendons" actually areThey are the cartilaginous tips of the ribs on a breast of veal, sold in France as tendrons. Ask a butcher for breast of veal and have the rib tips cut off in strips, or buy the whole breast and do it yourself; the recipe leaves the flap of meat on the ribs.
- Translucency is the test, not the clockFour hours at a bare simmer is a fair estimate, but the cartilage is done when it looks glassy and a skewer meets no resistance. Undercooked tendrons are rubbery and unpleasant; there is no way to rush them.
- Keep it at a shiver"Simmer gently" means barely trembling, around 180-190F. A rolling boil will shred the meat off the cartilage and cloud the stock you need for the glaze.
- Fat bacon and twineThis is barding. Use unsmoked fatback, fresh pork belly or thin-cut streaky bacon that has not been heavily cured or smoked, or the whole braise will taste of smoke. Butcher's twine, tied at both ends and once in the middle.
- Pressing between two dishesThe cooling step is not optional fussiness. Left between two dishes, the gelatinous strips set flat and firm and can then be trimmed square, which helps them hold a glaze and sit neatly in a ring.
- A blade of maceOne whole piece of the lacy aril from around a nutmeg. About a quarter teaspoon of ground mace is a rough equivalent, though it will not strain out.
- Reducing to a glazeStrain, chill if you have time so the fat lifts off in a cake, then boil hard until the liquid is syrupy and coats a spoon. Veal cartilage gives up a great deal of gelatine, so the reduction will glaze without any added thickener. Salt only at the end, once it is reduced.
- Yield and timingTiming -- The dish is built for making ahead: braise and press a day early, then trim, reheat and glaze at the last moment.
Cassell's is translating a staple of the French repertoire into an English kitchen: tendrons de veau, the rib cartilage of the breast, braised until it becomes something between meat and jelly. The technique belongs to the thrift end of classical cookery, where the cheapest part of the calf was made presentable by long gentle cooking, pressing and a mirror glaze of its own reduced stock. The note on cost is telling, since the recipe itself says the tendons are usually sold with the breast of veal rather than priced separately. Veal was more common on British tables in the nineteenth century than it is now, and the gelatinous cuts in particular were valued for the body they gave to sauces and jellies. The suggested accompaniments, sorrel and artichoke puree among them, fit the French service of the period, where a ring of glazed tendrons around a mound of green vegetables was a familiar presentation for an entree.