Every time that I eat osso bucco, I think of Billy Collins' eponymous poem:
"I love the sound of the bone against the plate
and the fortress-like look of it
lying before me in a moat of risotto,
the meat soft as the leg of an angel
who has lived a purely airborne existence.
And best of all, the secret marrow,
the invaded privacy of the animal
prized out with a knife and swallowed down
with cold, exhilarating wine."
"osso bucco"
fregula
charred artichoke lemon garlic
crisp artichoke blossoms
It's a shame that osso bucco isn't found on more fine dining menus– what with its angel-soft meat and secret marrow. I suspect that the clumsy bone is part of the problem. Removing it makes for a more refined presentation and controlled portion.
As much as I love the cross-section of shank, I'll admit that my favorite cut of veal is the breast. The long-fibered brisket, when slooowly braised between layers of fat with the rib bones attached, is pure nirvana. The only thing missing is the marrow… until now [thank-you Activa].
Playing with Fire and Water 