It’s strange with offal,” says Fergus Henderson. “People say, ‘Liver, oh yes, liver’, which is the biggest filter in the body. Then they say, ‘I love sweetbreads’, which are glands, but, ‘Tripe, oh no! Brains, oh no!’”
Unlike the St John chef, many of us are inconsistent offal eaters. We happily scoff chicken liver pâté but, for most, brains are a step too far. It’s the melting, mousse-like texture that gives pause. For chefs, however, it is precisely the combination of voluptuous texture, subtle taste and unfamiliarity that makes brains such a desirable ingredient. And, in London’s restaurants at least, they are becoming increasingly popular.
This isn’t news to chef Henry Harris, who had calves’ brains permanently on the menu at his (recently closed) Knightsbridge brasserie Racine. Harris prepares them fried, with a sauce of brown butter and capers. This classic combination is, according to the late food writer Richard Olney, the “purest way to appreciate brains”.