serbian stallion

Sure, its name doesn’t have quite the ring of its Italian cousin, but what’s in a name anyway? I had heard of it while in Morocco. Had been tempted by the prospect of trying some French cheval. True Belgian pommes frites use such fat as their key ingredient. And here I finally was, the moment of truth: my first bite of horse. Vlad took me to the aptly-named White Horse Club just around the corner from my flat. It was just for a light snack while planning the coming weeks and food ideas. So, after starting with the requisite rakja (brandy), we were delivered our plate of horse tartare. I was excited, but was underwhelmed by the momentous first bite. It was rather bland, and rather than chopped, it was finely minced and whipped into more of a paste than tartare, with no noticeable seasonings at all. Served simply with butter and sliced onion and cardboard-resembling tomato, the jar of salt I carry with me came in handy to liven it up. Like many other firsts, I hope it gets better the more times you try it. Next time I’ll make sure to try some stallion sausage—I’ve heard good things.