Tendon & Cartilage: An Ode

So here's a dummy article to fill up some words. But it's also a little treatise on the name 'T&C.' T&C stands for tendon and cartilage, which is really some of my favourite joys of eating.

Beef tendon simmered in an unctuous stew until it's fork tender; or lightly boiled in a hearty broth until cooked through (but still way too 'crunchy'), sliced thinly crosswise, and served with noodles a la pho – tastes different, feels different, but ultimately a textural delight. Don't even get me started on fried-then-rehydrated pork tendon that you'll find in Chinese soups and braises.

Be unapologetic. Be like chicken feet.

Cartilage is everywhere, cartilage is king. The Japanese know this for a fact, for why would they have nankotsu skewers at yakitori joints otherwise? The cartilage around chicken drumlets is singlehandedly the sole reason why I'd choose drums over flats. Everyone chooses flats and it boggles my mind.

But I digress. The theme I'm extracting from this oft-maligned duo – apart from ample amounts of collagen – is that they're often the parts people dislike or discard or render completely invisible. They're not the proverbial prom queen or popular jock, hell they're not even the cool kids. They're the fellows on the fringes that no one notices or cares to notice.

Unsightly at first blush, but miraculously precious with a little time and effort, or TLC if you will. This is the blog for the tendon and cartilage lovers out there. This is also for those that see themselves as a T&C. We can always aspire towards a platonic ideal, but we can't all be prime rib, so let's not fail valiantly at becoming wannabe prime ribs. Be an oxtail, embrace your inner cartilage, allow yourself to be simmered, stewed, skewered and charred, and stand proud and tall knowing that on your day, you can rival – and in this humble writer's opinion, easily usurp – any prime cut on the market.