I miss working in the kitchen at Amador, and wish I had been able to stay there longer.

I miss working in the kitchen at Amador, and wish I had been able to stay there longer.

“A little more than two years.” That is how I reply when anyone asks me how long it has been since I have had my hands on some lamb tongue. To many people it will sound odd, but when one works daily with items on a menu you become one with them, and discover their nuances and feelings. These things have identities and personalities, and the more you handle them, smell them, feel them, the more they open up to you, the more they give you. And the more you miss some of them when they are taken off the menu or you no longer work with them.

One of my tasks at Amador was prepping lamb’s tongue. Christian, another cook with whom I worked closely at this Michelin Three Star-restaurant located in Mannheim, Germany, showed me how to slice it thinly and use a round to cut it into the shape required for the dish. Not every piece was usable, because we sought a particular, even coloration. Gray does not look good on a plate, and Chef Juan Amador wanted (and wants) nothing but perfection.