Warmed to My Marrow

I like good food.

If you’ve met me it’s not a stretch to recognise this. My philosophy has been that life should be enjoyed in big bites. As the man said, ‘moderation is for monks’. However, as I progress into my sixth decade, I’ve learned to turn the volume back down from 11 occasionally. Rather than a 48 ounce Porterhouse (I wish I was kidding when I say I ate the whole thing) I now enjoy a 12-ounce Flatiron, or some sliced flank–or even a nice vegetarian meal (I know, I know, eating vegetables is bad for the environment, but they’re so delicious!)

But when it’s time for something rich and tasty, you should never skimp: have one great Martini instead of three crappy ones. Eat a small bar of really good chocolate rather than a bunch of gritty cheap stuff. You get the drift–less is more, if it’s better.

Today I was in the mood for something really, really rich. I was in my butcher, the same hilariously squeamish chap who brings me in various animal parts while wincing (seriously, you’d think he never saw anyone have a conversation with a severed pig’s head before!). The display case held precisely two small, perfect objects.

The cow was not using them anymore
The cow was not using them anymore

Marrow bones, a section of the leg bone of a calf. I knew right then that they must be mine. I took them home, seasoned them liberally with Sel Gris and cracked pepper and popped them in a 450 degree convection oven for 20 minutes.

Soon, my pretties!
Soon, my pretties!

While they roasted, filling the house with a heavenly smell, I sauteed a few brown mushrooms in good Irish butter and a wee bit of garlic and prepared a nice piece of Tuscan bread toast.

It's the perfect food, hiding right inside your bones.
It’s the perfect food, hiding right inside your bones.

The middle of the bones is hot, rich and delicious. Dragged out with a spoon and smeared onto the toast, it was the perfect rich-but-not-overwhelming accompaniment to a glass of Pinot Noir.

Now, what’s for dinner?

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