In many other European and Asian countries, it's accepted that no animal part should go to waste and that - as the saying goes - you can eat all of the pig except the squeal. Britons, it seems, prefer to dine on prime cuts such as chicken breasts and fillet steak. Waste not, want not
 Britain, too, once had its own traditional ways of using all parts of the animal
It wasn’t always that way. Britain, too, once had its own traditional ways of using all parts of the animal. In decades past there were more butchers around and offal and other economical cuts of meat were often sold ready to eat. Bath chaps (pigs’ cheeks in breadcrumbs), Lincolnshire chine (cured shoulder stuffed with parsley and other herbs) are just two regional specialities. Brawn was a way of using up the pig's head. Chitterlings, also found mainly in the south of England, are pigs' intestines that are sometimes plaited before cooking and serving. Faggots are made with pork offal, such as liver, lungs and spleen, and wrapped in caul fat (the membrane found around internal organs).
The North-west was home to a large number of offal dishes, particularly tripe and cow heel. About a century ago there were 260 tripe shops in Manchester alone. It was often the only meat people on low incomes could afford. Now there's so little call for offal that the art of preparing these regional specialities is dying out. Looking beyond the filletOne chef who's perhaps doing more than any other to preserve Britain's offal heritage is Fergus Henderson of St John restaurant, located just a stone's throw from Smithfield Market, the old wholesale meat market in the heart of London.  Fergus is lauded in Britain, the US and Europe, and is famous for his ‘nose-to-tail’ style of cooking. The menu at St John offers dishes using parts of the animal - heart, chitterlings, trotters, kidneys, pigs’ tails and bone marrow for example - which are rarely found in British restaurants these days. It’s also regarded as one of the best restaurants in the UK, and Henderson has inspired a new generation of chefs who are carrying on the nose-to-tail message in restaurants of their own. The self-taught chef, who originally trained as an architect, insists that his way is about common sense and thrift - and appreciating all the qualities of the animal. "We don't seek out the goriest things; we cook what we do because it's delicious. It never struck me as a philosophy; it was just the way it went," Fergus muses. "The gastronomic possibilities of an animal are so huge once you start to look beyond the fillet." Continental flavours The art of charcuterie in France and salami-making in Italy ingeniously preserves the less-promising bits of the pig to tide families over the leaner winter months. In France, Spain and Asia, Fergus explains, "the culture of cooking extremities still exists." The unadventurous British are the exception. We've lost touch with our nutritious culinary roots. "We embraced chicken Kiev with too much gusto," as Fergus puts it. We are extravagant with prime cuts like chicken breasts, chops and fillets, and wrongly imagine that offal is tricky to cook. If we don't buy meat from the butcher there's no one to advise us and, because most of us buy food based on appearance, we are easily put off. We turn up our noses at tripe and are squeamish about stuffing an ox heart. Getting startedFew dishes are as delicious as a meltingly tender oxtail stew, crisp slivers of pig's ear in breadcrumbs or soft and subtle sweetbreads in a creamy sauce. So why don't more of us cook offal? "It's fear and lack of knowledge. You have to try it," Fergus believes. It isn't always easy to find brains, hearts, trotters and tails, either, as supermarkets rarely sell the more challenging cuts.
Fergus urges every cook to make friends with their butcher
Fergus urges every cook to make friends with their butcher. It’s especially important when you’re buying liver and kidneys, for example, that you know where the meat has come from and can be sure it's fresh. "The nature of what they do means it’s a good idea to be reassured," as he delicately puts it. Once you get it home, have courage. Offal is often no more difficult to cook than a steak. Take ox heart. It’s lean (with less fat than the leanest meat, and more iron and copper) and all you have to do is slice it thinly, marinate it and grill it. Fergus loves its texture. "It's not annoyingly chewy," he insists. At around £2.50 a kilo, ox heart is also inexpensive compared to prime cuts of beef which start at twice the price for braising steak - and a good butcher will clean and stuff it. What could be easier? Entry-level offalKidneys are another easy way to enjoy offal and are a good source of selenium and folate. Lambs' livers can be picked up for only 50p each - enjoy them in devilled kidneys on toast.
Iron-rich calves' liver is a delicacy often served in restaurants, yet it's also very simple to cook at home. If calves' liver is too costly, lamb's liver is fine as an alternative and is also much undervalued at about £4 a kilo. These might be entry-level offal, but they’re actually stronger-tasting than other innards and organs like soft and delicately flavoured sweetbreads (the thymus gland or pancreas), brains and tripe that sound more off-putting to the uninitiated. Fergus Henderson would like to see more restaurants offering a greater choice of cuts. It would give us customers a chance to try these nutritious delicacies and inspire us to discover how easy and economical they are to cook at home. Recipes
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