No Reservation

Su Discovery Travel and Adventure è appena iniziata (credo) la nuova serie di Anthony Bourdain "No Reservation" (la danno tutti i martedi alle 21). Ieri, dalla Malaysia, con suo sommo disgusto ha dovuto uccidere un maiale (strano che abbia avuto dei rimorsi di coscienza). La nuova serie di documentari comprenderà anche una puntata in Sicilia, spero di non perdermela. Di seguito hanno dato delle vecchie puntate di "Viaggio di un Cuoco" e ne ho vista una che mi mancava, era in Marocco e in compagnia di un gruppo di Berberi che, dopo averlo cotto per 2 ore in un forno sigillato dalla calce, gli hanno fatto mangiare un agnello allo spiedo... mi sono chiesto se quel piatto fosse un antesignano del kebab. Qui sotto il brano che descrive la cena, tratto da "A Cook’s Tour: In Search of the Perfect Meal":

"I wanted to sit in the desert with the Blue Men — Tuaregs — a once fierce tribe of nomadic Berbers who’d drifted back and forth between Yemen and Morocco for centuries, raiding caravans, disembowelling travellers, and eating whole lamb in their desert camps. I wanted to squat in the desert beneath the stars, eating the fat of the lamb with my fingers. I wanted to smoke hashish under a brightly swollen moon, leaning against my camel.
It all happened at a Tuareg encampment, several hours’ camel ride into the Sahara. In no time, I was fully in the spirit of things, banging on the drums with my blue pals, rolling a fat blunt, watching as one of the tribe rubbed my whole lamb with onion, pepper and salt, then wired it to a long pole. Assisted by two others, they hoisted my dinner on to their shoulders and walked to the smouldering, volcano-like mud oven.
Sizzling hot, the lamb had been roasted crispy and straight through. The chef made a quick motion with his dagger and lifted free a dismayingly large testicle from the lamb’s crotch. With some ceremony, and a few appreciative smiles from around the table, he deposited the crispy, veiny object in front of me, then sat down and helped himself to a thick slab off the other nut. I, God help me, tore off a sizable piece of gonad and popped it in my mouth.
It was sensational. Tender, even fluffy, with a subtle lamb flavour less intense than shoulder or leg; the whole experience, the chewing and swallowing, was reminiscent of sweetbreads. It was certainly the best testicle I’d ever had in my mouth. Also the first, I should hasten to say. I enjoyed every bite. It was delicious. Delightful. I’d do it again in a hot second. If I served it to you at a restaurant, as long as you didn’t know what it was, if I called it, say, “Pavé d’agneau maroc,” you’d love it. You’d come back for more."