Fernet Branca, the carnivore's best friend

The night of our first real meat binge in Buenos Aires was a sleepless one.

Maybe meat is always like this, or maybe it was just my body in shock, but the meat sat like a rock in my stomach for hours. It was a very unpleasant feeling that I've become accustomed to lately. Meat makes you feel full. Those Atkins people have been telling us that for years. What I didn't realize is how long it takes to digest. Hours and hours.

And yet, it tastes so good that I'm willing to put up with a few hours of discomfort afterward. That's where Fernet comes in.

If you don't live in San Francisco (or Italy), maybe you haven't heard of it. It's a digestif. Some say that it tastes like Jaegermeister without the sugar. I don't really agree. But people seem to either really love or really hate this stuff. Thankfully I am in the former camp, because it works a magic on the digestive system that pharmaceutical companies could only dream of emulating.

Fernet is painfully trendy in San Francisco. Bartenders drink it. It is a drink for those in the know. Whatever. I like how it tastes (like licorice mixed with Underberg topped with a Ricola garnish) and it cuts through a pile of meat in your gut like nobody's business. A shot or two of Fernet, and you can get up and walk again.

I only hope that it becomes trendy in more places. I have tried to order it recently in Boston, Chicago, Washington, DC and Florida. What I got were puzzled looks from bartenders instead. Sambuca makes a poor substitute. As does congnac. (But they'll do in a pinch.)

Consider this a public service announcement. If you eat copious amounts of meat and can stand the taste of herby-licoricey alcohol, do yourself a favor and get your local bar to carry at least a bottle or two of Fernet Branca.

Meat Taboos & Thit Cho

I remember watching David Letterman one night years ago, probably when I was still in college. Julia Child was on the show and she was doing a cooking demonstration. She was hacking away at a duck.

She squawked, "You know, this method also works very well with baby seal."

Letterman nearly choked. "Baby seal? Jeez, Julia, what are you, some kind of monster?"

"What's the difference between a duck and seal?" she asked, still hacking away at the duck.

Fair point. What is the difference between a duck and seal? Or a dog and pig? Or a horse and a cow? Why do people think squirrels are cute but they run screaming from rats? Why is it okay to eat rabbit but not cat? Where do we get this stuff from?

And yet, most people don't seem to think about this much at all. Maybe I spend too much time thinking about it. Maybe I'm the one with the problem, not everyone else.

A few years ago, in our pre-carnivore days, my husband & I went to Vietnam. Now I had heard that they eat dogs in Vietnam. I prepared myself for this. I memorized the word for it (thit cho) so I could make sure we didn't accidentally wander into a dog restaurant. After human, probably no meat strikes more fear in the hearts of Americans that the thought of eating dog meat.

Anyway, although I wasn't surprised to find dog meat served in Vietnam, I was surprised to see that many Vietnamese people also keep dogs as pets. And I'm not talking about some scruffy guard dog chained to someone's fence. I mean floofy little dogs with shiny pink collars and little sweaters. That kind of pet.

So I was curious as to how people rectify that. How do you spend the day snuggling with your pet dog, and be okay with the fact that there's a thit cho joint just down the road? I was lucky to meet up with a Vietnamese colleague and after a couple of beers, we asked her.

"Easy," she explained. "See that dog? That's an eating dog."

And that was it. The wild-looking dogs with the pointy ears are for eating, and the others are for dressing up in little sweaters and cuddling with. Simple.

I guess meat taboos don't have to make sense. Everyone has their own. So if I'm okay with eating pig but not rabbit, alligator but not turtle, well, I guess I shouldn't lose sleep trying to justify it.


Note: I should mention here, before you go hiding Fido from your Vietnamese neighbors, that while dog is eaten in Vietnam, not all Vietnamese people eat dog. And it's not an everyday dish. It's expensive, and it is for special occasions. No one is ever going to serve you dog in place of another meat, give it to you by accident or roast your dog for the neighborhood block party.

Memphis Minnie's

"Ohmyfuckingod"

Jason had just tasted his first bbq rib.

"Is it good, honey?"

"Fuck!

"Yeah, mine's good too."

Jason was buried in his plate. He looked euphoric. I thought his eyes were going to roll into the back of his head. I felt the same way. We had a new drug, and its name was pork.

Ordering had been quite an ordeal. Behind us was a group of Japanese tourists, clutching a guidebook. I don't know which of us was more confused by the menu.

"Ummm, we're new to this meat-eating thing. What kind of animal is brisket? What's the difference between a rib tip and a tri tip? Is smoked pork the same thing as pulled pork?"

We were totally clueless. It felt weird. Exciting. Exotic. Like being in a foreign country. I'd been on this stretch of Lower Haight a thousand times, and I don't think I ever even noticed that Memphis Minnie's was there.

The food was fantastic. I don't know if it was really fantastic, or just fantastic for a guy who had never had bbq in his whole life and his wife who hadn't had it in about 20 years. I think it was really fantastic, because we've been back a few times since.

The ribs are our favorite. And the brisket. The greens aren't as good as the ones I make (they're too vinegary) but we don't go there for the vegetables. The smoked pork is great too, but it's chopped, not pulled. All in all, it's the best bbq you are going to find in San Francisco; the staff take this food seriously and seem to love what they do.

While we were eating there that first night, I was struck by how happy and enthusiastic the other patrons of the restaurant were. Everyone was chatting, passing bottles of hot sauce back and forth.

"Have you guys tried this one? It's amazing!"

There was a comaradarie among these carnivores, a conviviality that I had never experienced at say, Herbivore. Meat eaters are just more laid back, it seems. A little less concerned about what people think of them. They welcomed us into the fold.

Afterward we went to Molotov's for a shot of Fernet, to help us digest all that flesh. They had Reagan Youth on the jukebox. I played the whole album. Reagan Youth and bbq ribs all in one night! I felt like I was 17 again, and it was good.

Memphis Minnie's BBQ
576 Haight St. @ Fillmore
http://www.memphisminnies.com/