Confession time: I had veal twice in seven days. This was the first instance (it followed our pasta alla gricia), and then the following Thursday night I devoured a veal parm sandwich while watching focus groups for work. I will not apologize for either occasion because they were divine to eat in their own ways, and veal is not something we regularly purchase because it’s not exactly cheap. I think Michael has some guilt issues as well, because when I asked him if he had picked up these veal scallops for dinner as we wound our way through the cold room at Fairway Harlem (and in the meat department, no less), he quickly shushed me; when I regaled to him a few days later that I enjoyed that sandwich, he first muttered something that sounded akin to envy, then loudly decried me for daring to have veal twice in the same week and may have even called me a baby-cow-killer. I have a feeling that last bit was the envy talking. He didn’t make dinner that night (why, I have not a single clue) so he was a little rankled when I arrived home a little before 9PM. Besides, whatever guilt demons were haunting him that Saturday deserted him upon entering the kitchen, because these scallops, with their herbs and lemon and butter and oil, were sublime: light years beyond chicken cutlets in flavor and tenderness, but without those lingering feelings of overindulgence that can come after having some beef, lamb, or even pork.
In fact, the only guilt I felt on the whole of this evening’s meal was that I had to give my last scallop to Michael because there was no way I could finish it. This is the kind of guilt, however, that I can handle.
Any other veal-lovers out there interested in the recipe?