Passions: How I overcame my childhood fear and learned to love tripe

It’s a shame tripe is so hard to find in Scotland, says Nigel Southworth

Normandy’s Brotherhood of the “Tripiere Fertoise”, celebrating the the wonder of tripe. Photo: Jean-Francois Monier/AFP/Getty

But my mother and her parents ate tripe at least twice a week. They bought it fresh from the market in town and ate it raw with just a bit of added pepper and vinegar (never salt).

My grandfather was as lean as a butcher’s dog: he played cricket, walked for miles and tended his garden into his late 70s. He never snacked but swore by tripe.

It was only later in life that my curiosity peaked. Walking through the market one day I wondered what it would taste like, so I tried a tiny morsel. The taste had a hint of grass which, on reflection, perhaps should not be surprising.

Following that I became a wee bit bolder: I tried it with vinegar and pepper, full-on like my grandparents. It took a while to get through it all but I managed it. The strange, and quite amazing result was that, for hours later I was not hungry at all. In fact, there was a curious warm glow/tingling sensation in my stomach which was nice... like I was Ready Brek Kid gone rogue.

My passion grew and I sought out the dish wherever I went. I ate it like the Florentines do in Florence; as the Romans do in Rome and as the Portuguese eat it in Porto; although their passion for salted cod is unrivalled, there is even a museum in Lisbon dedicated to the stuff.

But the region, in my opinion, which still really honours this dish is Normandy in northern France. The Normans will eat most things and Tripe a la Mode de Caen is exceptional. It is baked slowly over 24 hours with onions, carrots and calf’s feet with cider and a large drop of Calvados, their apple brandy.

Unfortunately, here in Scotland, it is rare to find tripe although I know a butcher who will source it for me. He passes it to me in a bag; it’s like visiting Hilary Briss, the butcher in The League of Gentlemen.

In the UK it’s much more likely to be found in dog food... but I’m not going there.

​Nigel Southworth is senior content curator at The Scotsman