The Big Hunk of Meat

Yesterday, I went out to lunch with a couple of colleagues from the States.  They, like me, are Spanish professors at state universities.  Among the things we talked about were heroin use on the pilgrimage route to Santiago and the alarmingly low percentage of members of the Kansas State legislature who hold college degrees (ca. 40%).  But I am not writing to tell you about what we discussed.  I am writing to tell you about what I ate, the Big Hunk of Meat.

We all enjoyed the restaurant's menú.  For those of you unfamiliar with this term, the menú is the prix-fixe meal offered by just about every restaurant in Spain, particularly at midday during the work week.  (The English menu translates as carta) Its existence stems from the collision of long-standing custom with the realities of modern life.  For ages, Spaniards have made the midday meal, taken around 2:30pm, the big meal of the day.  Few people, however, have the time or inclination to travel all the way home at lunchtime, the way they did in the Quito of many years ago, a city that had four rush hours a day.  This creates a demand for big, but affordable meals consisting of two cooked dishes served as separate courses, a beverage, plus coffee and/or dessert.  A businessperson menú usually comes in around €10-15, a bit more if you decide to have both coffee and dessert.

The menú is rarely a memorable meal. In fact, Zoë has sworn them off, after a few too many experiences with affordable menús that ended up being quite disappointing, if not downright disgusting.  It still plays a role in my life, though, particularly when I get together with colleagues for  a meal during the workday, when the emphasis is on meeting and talking without getting too spendy.  The trick is to find a menú that is tasty and satisfying, even if the flavors are nothing to write home about.

Which brings me to the Big Hunk of Meat.  The second course options on your typical menú usually include some fish and/or seafood, and a meat dish or two.  These are often difficult to identify, because food words in Spain are so very different from their Latin American equivalents, so we usually have to look around at what other people are eating and try to match what we see to that's on the page.  My choices in these instances, as in other dining experiences, are guided by the following list of priorities.  I tend to like, in no particular order:

1. Meat over chicken or seafood.
2. Food that requires assembly at the table.
3. Food that requires cooking at the table.
4. Food that involves some sort of special apparatus to be eaten.
5. Food that involves dramatic presentation, like being set on fire.
6. Food served in portions that look more like a dare than dinner.  

You can imagine my fondness for things like fondue, Korean BBQ, Peking duck, and all things flambé. Unfortunately, items meeting criteria 2-5 are rare on a humble menú del día, but items meeting 1 and 6 are common.  The Big Hunk of Meat answers to both.

Codillo de cerdo, an example of the Big Hunk of Meat

The Big Hunk of Meat can take many forms.  It can be lamb or pork.  It can be roasted or braised.  It is usually a joint chopped off the leg of some hapless animal, prepared in such a way as to leave the meat quite tender, albeit sometimes without much flavor.  The central flavor experience is what the Japanese call umami, which is the taste we associate with fat.  Umami is in fact so important to so many Spanish dishes that I am surprised that the language does not have an equivalent word.  The Big Hunk of Meat, as the name implies, is always large.  It would represent a not-so-small feast for an entire family in many parts of our hungry world.  In Spain, it is a single serving.  Hence its attraction to a hungry Spanish professor making (bad) choices off a menú.  

Yesterday, as so often happens to me, I fell for the Big Hunk of Meat.  I like to think that my choice was inspired by thrift, a virtue, rather than gluttony, a vice.  A cardinal sin, even.  The Big Hunk of Meat, about half the size of your head, represents a good value for your money.  I can think of nowhere besides Spain where I can get such a large piece of meat, with an appetizer, a dessert, and a beverage, for so little money.  Who wouldn't go for it?  The answer: anyone who realizes that the Big Hunk of Meat sits heavy in your stomach, making you wonder why you ate the whole damn thing.  

I a moment, I am going out to lunch with Zoë, and I will not get the Big Hunk of Meat.  I promise.  It's a sure thing.  Don't you believe me?