Tête de Veau

Calf's head has been eaten in French cooking for centuries, valued for the contrast of textures in a single head — the gelatinous skin, the lean cheek, the tongue. It was codified in the classic repertoire and Escoffier's Guide Culinaire details its preparation and sauces. In the 18th century it acquired a political charge: in both France and England 'calf's head' banquets were held to mark the execution of a king, the head a deliberate symbol. In modern France the dish is famous as a favourite of President Jacques Chirac, an association often noted in the press. Today it is most often bought ready-boned and rolled (tête roulée) from the tripier, and is a defended classic of traditional brasserie cooking.

Warm slices of pale, soft meat shot through with seams of clear, wobbling gelatin from the skin; the texture runs from tender cheek to silky, almost melting rind, faintly sticky on the lips from all that collagen. The meat itself is mild and rich. Against it the cold sauce gribiche is everything — sharp with vinegar and mustard, studded with capers, cornichons, chopped egg and herbs, its acidity cutting the unctuous richness clean. Boiled potato and a little of the broth round the plate. It is a texture-led dish, and not for those wary of offal.

A calf's head is mostly skin, connective tissue and lean muscle, packed with collagen — meat that is rubbery raw and edible only after long, gentle wet cooking. Held at a bare simmer for two to three hours in a court-bouillon, the collagen slowly hydrolyses into gelatin: the skin turns from tough to yielding and faintly sticky, and the cooking liquid sets to a jelly when cold. The poaching liquid is often whitened with a flour-and-lemon blanc to keep the meat pale and to stop it darkening. The cold sauce is built for contrast — gribiche is an emulsion of hard-boiled egg yolk and oil sharpened with mustard, vinegar, capers and herbs; ravigote a simpler herb-and-mustard vinaigrette — the acidity essential to cut the gelatinous richness.