I also recall an incident 20 years ago in Pai district of Mae Hong Son province, in the North. I was visiting a farm family in the company of a local government official. The family made these … things, for sale. Would dry them in trays on the roof. Thin, round and crisp, like a tostada. Had the brown color of water-buffalo dung. Tasted like what I could only imagine water-buffalo dung tasted like. Truly horrid. I ate a couple to be polite, and they ended up giving us each a whole big bag of them. The official and I were walking up the path back to his pickup, and I was still trying to get one of them down. He asked me how I liked it. Wanting to be polite, I said oh yeah, tasty. He handed me his bag and said: “Here, you can have mine. I can’t stand these things!” !!! I said I’d save them for later.
Oxtails are like the beefiest-tasting part of the cow. I fucking love them, but, unfortunately, so do a whole mess of a lot of people, as they’re not particularly cheap anymore. Too bad.
Is oxtail particular to Chicago? I never thought of it as such.
Oxtail makes the best beef-vegetable soup.