Mmmm, brains.

It’s not what you think.

We had our office holiday lunch today at Bistro d’Oc.[1]
Brains were on special.
I got to say to Johanna, “Do you want to split some brains?” to which she replied, “Yeah, that would be great”–not one of your more usual conversations, I think you’ll agree. (Well, outside the context of a zombie invasion, obviously.)
They were lamb brains with lemon and capers and noisette butter, and they were a fine thing indeed.
Johanna cheerfully admits to suggesting Bistro d’Oc for the holiday lunch “because they serve offal.” I was most impressed that several of our less-culinarily-adventurous coworkers tried a little bit of brains (“Can I taste your brains?”). I don’t think they’ll ever order them on purpose, but they didn’t spit them out or anything. (Hilariously, later in the meal, I did have to spit out a little bit of fig spread. I’m twitchy about figs at the best of times, and I was expecting it to be tapenade. Blick.)

[1] I’m kind of mystified by the online reviews of Bistro d’Oc, many of which are savage. We had a 12-person holiday lunch (reservations for 14, but two couldn’t make it). When we arrived, the room was set up with two tables–one of 6 and one of 8. Our executive director asked the waiter if he could rearrange the tables so we could all sit together. He did so. He recommended gorgeous and inexpensive wines and described them accurately. He knew what went into everything on the menu. It’s a bistro, and it does it well. It’s not a high-end haute cuisine celebrity chef experience, but if you know your charcuterie and succulent cheeses and duck confit, it’s good for what ails you . I feel as though a lot of the reviewers don’t understand what a French bistro is; either they don’t like French food, or they were actually looking for a bar.