Gizzards are offal, the “fifth quarter” meats that, along with liver and chitterlings, are rarely seen on restaurant menus.
Gizzards, if you’re not familiar with the organ, are the second stomachs of all birds and some reptiles that need this organ to grind their food for complete digestion.
A few days ago, we had dinner at Virtue, an exceptional Hyde Park restaurant under the direction of Executive Chef Erick Williams (James Beard Best Chef: Midwest, 2022) and Chef de Cuisine Damarr Brown (James Beard Emerging Chef, 2023). What Virtue does with gizzards is remarkable.
At Virtue, we enjoyed very delicately fried gizzards, dressed with tender little celery tops, pickles and a sauce that I believe was something like maple syrup and miso/soy, served over Carolina Gold rice. I spoke with Chef Williams a month or so ago and, though he was understandably hesitant to reveal his entire recipe, he told me the gizzards sit in a buttermilk bath for a good long time, which tenderizes them. Then they’re breaded, fried, and sauced. The gizzards were not the super-chewy, rubber-bandy clusters I used to get from the (now gone) Brown’s Chicken on Madison in Forest Park. These were quite tender, and Virtue’s preparation showed off the earthy, mineral notes of this odd organ.
I met Williams years ago at Chicago’s mk restaurant (now also gone). I ordered beef liver, which was delivered to our table by Chef Williams himself, who I suspect wanted to see what jamoke ordered the liver at this white tablecloth restaurant. When it arrived at the table, a young friend who’d never even seen beef liver remarked, “Wow, that’s not nearly as horrifying as I’d imagined.” It was some of the best liver ever.
Williams told me that when he was brainstorming concepts for Virtue, he knew he wanted to open a “Southern-style restaurant, and there are a few things that really say ‘Southern’: fried off-cuts, chitlins and offal.”
The King of Offal has got to be chitterlings, diced intestines, usually pork. These are very divisive innards, with some professing love and others strong dislike. I used to buy triple-washed chitlins at Moo & Oink on Madison (yep, gone). Carolyn made me cook the strong-smelling guts in our garage in a crock pot. I added a massive selection of spices, including onion, garlic, and oregano. They were not bad.
But Williams, one of Chicago’s most accomplished chefs, could probably make the best chitterlings ever.
And so, my plea.
Chef Williams, sir, please consider opening a restaurant in Oak Park. Our suburb has always reminded me of Hyde Park: largely liberal, educated, and diverse, with an interest in good food. A restaurant like Virtue — with very high-quality Southern comfort food — would be a hit in our village and could draw diners from all over the West Side and Western suburbs.
For the past few years, Oak Park has been upping its restaurant game; we’re ready for you but please, if you come, bring those remarkable gizzards.
