As a child, I never really liked to eat meat. Perhaps my initial encounters with carne were unpleasant and so sparked an extended resentment towards anything meatier than a chicken. Actually it was only quite recently that my taste for flesh has shifted. My carnivorous side seems to have been awakened during my habitation of the land of jellied eels and spotted dick. Honestly, I don't think it was any particular spectacular foogasm over a steak that triggered it, more like a gradual transition from carb-dependency to flesh-friendly feeding.
This, however, is not what most people would consider the ordinary cut of beef. Even at the Brass Rail, this is kept hidden under the counter until someone asks for it. Ox Tongue. The Brass Rail's main attraction is the salt beef. Salty, soft and beefy. But in my book, there's no way it could stand up against the ox tongue. Don't let the anatomical reference put you off. Ox tongue has all the savoury beef flavours you look for in regular beef but with a lighter cleaner finish. The meat is ridiculously tender you could tuck in to a platter without any teeth. It's also not as salty as the beef, so I find it much easier to shovel down my gullet. Honestly, it's like a softer beef with less sinew or grain to fight through with just as much, if not more, flavour.
My favourite order is a regular ox tongue on focaccia with mustard and a gherkin on the side. We've been going to the Brass Rail as far back as I can remember, and I was glad to see it still around after they renovated the building a while back. Before my red meat days I would get a plate, a knife and a fork and steal my parents' pickles to munch on whilst everyone else worked on their sandwiches. Now, this sandwich is one of the reasons I am more than happy to return to London every year. That and clotted cream, but that's another story.
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