This post is a simple excuse to brag about Husband. Who cooked ostrich for dinner on Sunday. Yes, the big, ugly, scary-looking bird found on the African continent.
I do the majority of the cooking, not because I am better but because of roles, time and that sort of thing. Husband is a great cook, and enjoys finding inventive recipes to try. Even better, he has a varied palate and will eat most things except dessert, and if it’s cooked well, he will enjoy it. Every now and then on the weekend, he goes shopping for groceries at Manor, which is the higher-end supermarket in Geneva with great meat on sale and also a fantastic selection of seafood. I guess every now and then, the random ostrich is on sale as well.
(It is worth noting that Husband’s ostrich from Africa was cheaper than Swiss beef. This is probably more of a statement about the cost of Swiss meat than it is about the price of ostrich.)
The ostrich was a fascinating piece of meat – lean, purplish-red in color, and firm. It was not excessively bloody and felt good to the touch when I poked it. We had it on Saturday night with beef for our evening of raclette. (That’s a long Swiss story we’ll save for a different blog post.)
It tasted strong, too strong for me, and a bit gamey. On Sunday night, Husband found an ostrich recipe and went to work. The result was great. The Chili-Rubbed Ostrich with Ginger Orange Syrup was peppery, and while it burned my taste buds, it also took the edge off the ostrich taste. The syrup offset the heat nicely. Ostrich meat is great to chew on, not tough, and I’m sure that if it was a bit more rare, it would even be tender (no rare meat for this pregnant woman).
Every meal Husband cooks for me ends up being memorable for some reason, from the first pot of bolognaise to the baked trout with salsa on our first day in our flat as a married couple to the fragrant tortellini soup when I was sick to the ostrich. I look forward to a lifetime of good eating together.