High/Low
January 2008
Wild at Heart
The offal truth about anticuchos By Rob Mifsud
CAVA, Squab heart anticuchos tapas, $6 / EL PLEBEYO, Anticuchos, $8.95
“The heart and lungs of an animal are called the pluck,” muses Calvin Schwabe, author of Unmentionable Cuisine, “but it really takes none at all to eat and enjoy them.” Two local chefs are testing this notion, offering takes on anticuchos, grilled meat—typically beef heart—tenderized and infused with flavour in a spicy marinade. Once the humble cuisine of Peru’s African slaves, then Lima’s quintessential street food, these kebabs are now inspiring chefs worldwide.
At Cava (1560 Yonge St., 416-979-9918), Chris McDonald happened upon anticuchos as a savoury solution to a unique problem: what to do with all those hearts left over from preparing squab liver and foie gras mousse? He found his answer in Schwabe’s book: he now transforms surplus pigeon tickers into an artful, miniaturized riff on Andean tradition. McDonald serves brochettes of the thimble-sized organs atop a bed of napa cabbage slaw. By turns toothsome and crunchy, peppery and tart, each mouthful harmonizes the dish’s complementary tastes and textures.
In the kitchen of her Peruvian restaurant, El Plebeyo (1453 Bathurst St., 416-532-5627), Xigmena Bustamante hews to tradition. She carefully trims beef hearts of fat and sinew, then marinates them for a day in red wine, vinegar, spice and aji panca, a mild pepper paste. Sliced thinly, gilded with red pepper sauce and served with a wedge of grilled potato and corn, this tough offcut metamorphoses into tender, succulent ribbons of flesh. It’s only slightly gamier and denser than steak, bursting with the lightly charred flavour imparted by a scorching grill.








