In a way, the entire asado concept is an exercise in guilty pleasures. The repeatedly excessive amounts of meat, wine and good times shared with friends and family can only be described as an indulgence. Asados are not particularly friendly to waistlines and so are usually accompanied with some self-recriminations to do some exercise. Mañana, of course.
Now, in terms of guilty pleasures, you can’t get more shamefully guilty than tucking into some perfectly cooked molleja (sweetbreads in North America and the UK or ris de veau in France). While perhaps not for the slightly squeamish, mollejas have a unique taste that is down to the fact that it is in fact a gland and not muscle tissue like the other cuts that go on the parrilla. Of course, because this is Argentina, there are two different kinds of molleja, and there is contradictions within the folk wisdom about their anatomical differences. Both appear to be cut from different parts of the thymus gland, which is part of the immune system. Molleja de corazon (surrounding the heart), is perceived to be better for the grill as it is fattier and usually thicker so they stand up to the heat better. The molleja de garganta (from the throat) is thinner and naturally less fatty, and so is best for pan-frying with spring onions. Because our priorities run towards anything on the parrilla, the focus will be on the mollejas de corazon.
Just like with almost any other element of an Argentine asado, there are as many recipes for mollejas as there are parrilleros. However, with more than any other piece of meat that goes onto the grill, the recipes for molleja really do have a dramatic impact on the final product. The controversies about salting for example, rarely result in a bad steak. But because mollejas are naturally very strong tasting and fatty, need to be grilled basically well done and can take a long time to cook, the differing approaches will be apparent in the result.
Mollejas are served as starters and so their preparation is one of the first things that a parrillero will take care of. Some parrileros will salt and then throw them onto the grill as is, eventually butterflying them after browning them for some 30 minutes over some medium heat on each side. This will result in the most intensely flavoured molleja. Other approaches include boiling the mollejas in either water or milk along with lemon juice and salt from anywhere from 10 minutes to a few hours, and either letting the mollejas cool before putting them onto the grill or alternatively pressing them and storing them in the fridge overnight. The thinking is that boiling the mollejas strips them both of their fattiness and their more potent flavours as well as pre-cooking them to an extent, making life easier for those running the grill. Again, the idea is to grill the mollejas over persistent medium heat and butterflying when golden on each side and adding more lemon juice as the molleja cooks. The lemon juice makes an appearance because it naturally fits the flavor of the molleja. The variety of recipes reflects the fact that mollejas are difficult, that they are fickle and can let a parrillero down. I choose to boil them for 10 minutes before grilling, but I’ve had great mollejas done a variety of ways. They do need to be absolutely fresh as well, and preferably from a reliable butcher and the less fatty the better. Smart portenos will also be able to recommend which parrillas have great mollejas and where you should avoid them.
I have avoided defining the flavor of molleja because I find that they are unique and more or less incomparable. They are undoubtedly gamey, but not in the same way that duck or wild boar is. They absorb lemon juice and the smoke off the grill very well but also retain their specific flavor, which is like a savoury butter, kind of. It is certainly a delicacy, as it is pricey and hard to get right. It is also very filling. I remember that at one my asados I picked up 500 grams for a group of about six of us. That is plenty, especially because we also had some provoleta and chorizos as starters. Half of some pretty amazing molleja was left and a friend of mine refused to accept that it wasn’t going to be eaten so he polished it off. He was so full afterwards that he didn’t make it to the main steak portion and went to sleep at 9pm.
If you have a chance, try some mollejas. Be prepared to not like them, but there really isn’t anything else like it. And if you like them, you’ll join a very large group of those who sheepishly enjoying mollejas whilst scrambling to justify such a guilty pleasure. Try it. Join us.
Steak Buenos Aires 