Be Careful What You Order

I had a “be careful what you order” experience on Saturday.  Saturday was the first sunny day after several days of clouds and rain, and I insisted we go on a short walk from the center of Jaca to the nearby Medieval bridge, the Puente de San Miguel.  After we walked back the kids chose a restaurant, “L”, where we had lunch.  “L” specializes in a sort of nouvelle-Aragonés cuisine, updated or reinvented interpretations of traditional regional dishes.  It is very Aragonés; not so much nouvelle.  The “menu del día” (the set price menu) had lots to choose from and the kids each found things they liked.  My daughter ordered melón con jamón and a bistek and my son had the children’s menu (spaghetti and chicken “nuggets” with fries).  I decided to have gazpacho to commemorate the end of summer, and to be adventurous ordered something called “manitas de cordero en salsa de almendra.” Cordero, of course, is lamb.  Manitas, means little hands, and I did not know what this was, exactly, but I love lamb and envisioned some little chunks of meat in an interesting almond-based sauce.  What arrived in front of me was a cazuela (an earthenware baking dish) containing, as far as I could determine, an entrée consisting of gelatinous tendons and bones, breaded and cooked in a brownish sauce.  I tried in vain to excavate some meat from the dish, and took a few tastes of the sauce, but the tendons were so unappetizing, I really couldn’t stomach it.  The children had a great time ribbing me with “Now you know how we feel when you cook [insert vegetable here—e.g. zucchini, eggplant].”  I told them that, in the future, instead of saying “Ew, gross, Mom, that’s disgusting,” when I serve something they find less than mouth-watering, they need only utter the phrase “manitas de cordero” to communicate the lack of appeal.  I later googled “manitas de cordero” just to see, and was surprised when dozens of recipes popped up.  Clearly this is a dish that many people prepare and consume with relish. The first recipe that I clicked on was accompanied by a photo of 4 delicate and snowy white lamb hoofs and lower legs presented on a bed of lettuce.  Mystery solved.  I was humbled by the experience.  The ethnographer in me was shamed by my inability to consume with enthusiasm (or even without it) a typical local dish. I reminded myself of all the viscera and other animal parts I have eaten in Mongolia (marmots, goat cheeks), but to no avail.  I ate my delicious home-made arroz con leche (rice pudding) for dessert and vowed to ask before ordering in the future.