Bone Marrow — Virgin Territory

November 9, 2009

The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones.
~William Shakespeare, from Mark Antony’s funeral oration in Julius Caesar

Sorry for the brief interlude, but I felt an urge to rest the pen. Please do not assume that raw materials are lacking as my WordPress “Dashboard” is backed up with unrequited recipes that are begging to bust loose. This is one of them.

Last night, we plowed through untilled ground: roasted bone marrow. Now, I have savored these scrumptuous apps quite a few times over the years at restaurants, and if I spy them on a menu it is nearly guaranteed they will be ordered. But, I have never prepared them at home, and now am left with absolutely no clue why these delicacies have been so rudely shunned in this kitchen. So many things fall through life’s cracks.

Step 1 of the roasted marrow process involves a chat with your butcher about cutting or rather sawing these bones to your specifications. At first blush, this would seem easy enough…but here it does present a certain challenge as the local grocery presents a tale of two butchers. One butcher, who will go by the name “M,” is affable, courteous and wholly accomodating while the other, “R,” is rude, hostile, and far from obliging. Asking R to carve a ribeye or strip to your liking (i.e., perform his function as a butcher) is akin to asking Ebeneezer Scrooge to donate funds to your favorite charity or insisting that Rush Limbaugh cast his vote for a homosexual African American Democrat. Simply put, when he is at the helm, R casts a pallor on one of life’s more beloved experiences—hunting and gathering at the store—while M unabashedly suggests, even pleads, that he custom cut for your night’s meal. To our good fortune and those of our guest’s bellies, M (and not R) was manning the meat department yesterday. So, we walked out with freshly cut bones for the evening’s appetizer and service with a smile. For his graciousness, I intend to pass this recipe on to M as he adores cooking too. I doubt R would care to read this post, so he will not be favored with a copy.

Heed my words. If you fear this offal known as bone marrow, you are sorely mistaken. Marrow is one of those opulent gifts at the table…rich, silky, buttery, and immensely subtle in character and flavor. There is supreme, toe-curling stuff interred in these bones making it one of those rare last bite on death row dishes.


12 — 3″ segments veal marrow bones

1 bunch flat leaf parsley leaves, stems discarded and chopped
3 fresh, plump garlic cloves, peeled and finely minced
2 small to medium shallots, peeled and finely minced
2 T capers, rinsed and drained

2 T extra virgin olive oil
Juice of 1 lemon
Sea salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Grilled or toasted bread, sliced
Extra virgin olive oil

Preheat oven to 450 F

Put the bones in a roasting pan and place in oven. Roast until marrow is loose and beginning to separate from the bone, but not drizzling out or melted, about 15-20 minutes depending on bone thickness. So, keep an eye on the roasting process so the marrow does not exceed the tipping point.

While bones are roasting, chop the parsley and gently mix with garlic, shallots, lemon juice, capers. Whisk in the olive oil. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Brush the sliced bread with olive oil and grill or roast.

Remove marrow from oven and serve on plates with bread next to the persillade. At the table with small spoons or forks, scoop the marrow out of the bones onto the toast and top with a small dollop of the persillade.


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