The new it’s what’s for dinner: Goat
Besides the 24oz aged porterhouse of affluence and his friends the pork and lamb chop, apart from a couple other cuts like racks and shanks, bones in America are pretty much relegated to barbecue and fried chicken. Maybe it’s that we don’t like to be reminded of the cavemen-like reality that we’re ripping an animal’s flesh from the legs it once walked on or the sternum that had previously contained its pulsating heart? More likely, though, it’s that we’re just lazy and we don’t like having to work that hard.
Whatever the reason, in many ethnic restaurants, the bones have been thoughtfully removed from native dishes to appeal to America’s cultural leanings. Where a true Chinese dish might contain a roasted bone in duck breast cleaved into gnarly chunks which beg to be grabbed with both hands so you can tear the muscle away, they’ve instead been substituted by the boneless and carefully sliced chopstick-ready stand-ins of the west.
The suggestion here is that if you seek the foods that represent the truer culinary heritage of a given country, look for the bones. Sometimes the cuts are literally things Americans wouldn’t consume believing them to be substandard, but more often they are simply a bone-in butchering we’re not accustomed to–like a pork steak in California.
Slipping into Tam Tam African Restaurant a few weeks ago I had two such dishes on my mind. We’d not been since December and on those visits we had found that certain time consuming dishes were available only on Saturdays. Both I had eagerly wanted to try.
The first was Rotti de Viande simply described as fresh lamb cooked in a special sauce, and the second was a grilled lamb dish called Mechiou which actually seemed quite basic as it was only a marinated leg of lamb with cous cous.
On each of our past trips we had enthusiastically been greeted by a server from the Ivory Coast named Prince who would thank us for coming in with a sincere handshake hello and goodbye. Back then, having gone three times in two weeks, we’d felt terrible about not returning as it seemed he thought he had some new regulars. Entering, our eagerness to once again see Prince was met with the news that he is no longer with Tam Tam. Offering a warm welcome in his place, however, is an updated and more inviting dining room.
While the DJ setup still stands, proudly displayed (but covered) in the corner, fresh coats of paint cover the walls and friends of the restaurant have painted African themed murals throughout. The entire look of the restaurant is still that of an ethnic restaurant with little money to spend on décor, but it’s nice to see that they have gradually added some personal touches to the space making it seem a little more African.
Lacking the strange charisma of Prince, while engaging the new server about his preference for the mechiou or the dibi I found that he was Kenyan and he instead suggested the Goat Steak, Nyama Choma. Literally translating to “grilled meat” Nyama Choma is the national dish of Kenya and his favorite item on the menu.
Shocked I would be interested in eating the goat he went off to the kitchen to get things started and I was left feeling a bit nervous about the reaction. While I had eaten goat before it was in such small quantity, and with such overwhelming spices, that I really didn’t recall what the goat itself tasted like.
As I tried to decipher what part of the animal I was served, it occurred to me that the round marrow filled bones of the leg identified each thinly sliced steak as a cross-cut from the middle of the hind leg. Having been marinated for quite some time, apart from the flavor of goat, a kick of garlic and a mild hint of curry were the dominant flavors. The goat itself tasted similar to lamb, but slightly gamier; something more akin to a lamb butt with its more pungent aroma than a mild chop. Texturally it had the chew of a thinly sliced sirloin beef steak and, blackened from the hot grill, its smoky flavor was incredible. Although lean the goat’s crisp charred bits of succulently lamb-like fat practically melted in my mouth.
Although Kenya is in East Africa, showing the French influence of much of the owner’s Senegalese roots, the goat was topped with a pile of caramelized onions flavored with a dash of Dijon mustard. Also included were the familiar sides of potent onion soup-like sauce also served with the Yassas at Tam Tam and a bowl of fluffy, saffron-colored, cous cous.
It was another surprising encounter with a food mostly foreign to me, and one of those culinary experiences that reminded me once again how much deliciously unfamiliar food is out there waiting.
Tam Tam really is one of the more interesting restaurants I’ve been to in St. Louis, and a must stop for diners in search of something truly authentic. Though only if bones aren’t something you’re afraid of. They have lots.
