As a kid, I couldn't stand sweetbreads.
If there was a platter of offal on the table, I'd happily eat chorizo or blood sausage, but I'd leave the sweetbreads for the adults. They looked strange, felt too soft and, honestly, I didn't understand what everyone was so excited about.
That changed with time.
Today they're one of my favourite things to put on the parrilla.
Sweetbreads are one of those cuts that many Argentines eat without really thinking about what they are. Most people simply know they're glands. Only after I had my thyroid removed because of an illness did I become much more aware of them. Ever since, every time I prepare mollejas, I can't help thinking about that part of the body.
Interestingly, sweetbreads are not just one gland. Depending on the butcher, they can come from the throat or from the thymus, a gland found in the chest of young cattle. Most Argentines simply call them mollejas without worrying too much about the anatomy.
What I love about them isn't where they come from, but the texture.
When they're cooked properly they become crisp and golden outside while staying incredibly soft and creamy inside. They remind me a little of ravioles de seso---brain ravioli---another traditional dish that sounds intimidating but is surprisingly delicate and elegant.
I also have a strong opinion about how they should be cooked. Many people blanch sweetbreads before they ever touch the grill. I don't. I put them straight over a gentle fire and give them time. Slowly the fat renders, the outside turns beautifully crisp, and the inside stays creamy. For me, that's the whole point. If you're patient, the grill does all the work.
Unlike chinchulines, sweetbreads are also appreciated outside Argentina. You'll find them in British cookbooks and occasionally in restaurants, especially those focused on classic or fine dining. Every now and then I even find them at Waitrose.
That makes them one of the few Argentine achuras that many British guests already recognise.
They're still not easy to buy in quantity. I usually have to order full boxes from my supplier, so they don't appear at every barbecue I cook. But when I'm preparing a more premium event, sweetbreads almost always make the menu.
One moment always makes me smile. Almost every premium barbecue has someone who tells me, "I don't eat offal." I never argue. I simply ask them to try one piece. More often than not, a few minutes later they're back at the grill asking if there are any sweetbreads left. It's one of those ingredients that sounds far more intimidating than it tastes.
That's one of the reasons I love serving mollejas. They have a way of changing people's minds.