Unleash Your Inner Julia Child With This Surprisingly Easy Pork Belly Recipe

This is a recipe for tête de veau with sauce gribiche for those trying to make tête de veau with sauce gribiche in the United States. Which is to say, this is not a recipe for tête de veau with sauce gribiche, but instead one for pork belly croquettes with sauce gribiche. I can explain!

Tête de veau, literally « calf’s head, » is a classic dish of the French kitchen, featuring a rustic hunker of wobbly poached claves head, all fatty and meaty and deliciously gelatinous. Along with it is usually a bright and punchy sauce like ravigote, a kind of mustardy and herby emulsified vinaigrette, or sauce gribiche, a rich mayonnaise built on boiled eggs and flavored with mustard, herbs, and lots of minced capers and cornichons.

I wanted to write that recipe for our readers here, but I quickly realized just what a challenge it is to even find a calf’s head in the States, not to mention how a person at home would come anywhere close to eating a calf head’s worth of meat (or even half a calf’s head!). But fortune favors the stymied, and as it turns out I was in Paris several months ago, eating my way around the city with an eye on bistro and brasserie classics that I could develop recipes for at home. At one restaurant—Grand Brasserie—I got an idea for a solution to the veal’s head problem.

There, the chef served « tête de veau » by breading and frying a torpedo of shredded calf’s head, sort of like a meaty croquette, with the sauce gribiche on the side. This was something I could make work for a home cook in the States.

My first step for adapting this to a US audience was to switch from veal to pork, since pork is easier to find and cheaper. My second step: Switch from head to pork belly. I didn’t think a boiled slab of pork belly would make a great stand-in for the classic poached calf’s head—the fat composition and amount of gelatinous parts are different—but I was pretty sure the meat, once boiled, shredded, and chilled, could work just as well in fried-croquette form.

So that’s what I did. The process is easy to do, though it does take some time: The pork belly has to be simmered in an aromatic broth until fall-apart tender, which can take more than a few hours. Then you need to shred it, season it, and roll it in some sheets of plastic wrap into a log. The fat will melt and pool, but it’s fine, there’s more than enough even if a good amount seeps out.

After that, you chill the log of rolled, shredded pork belly until firm, which also takes many hours. At this point, it’s easy to finish and serve: Just slice the chilled pork roll into pucks, dredge them in a classic breading of flour, egg, and breadcrumbs (I prefer panko), and fry them in a shallow pot of oil until golden on both sides.

Plated on generous dollops of sauce gribiche, the result looks far more refined and complicated than the actual process is. It’s not an actual plate of tête de veau, but I’m pretty sure no one will complain.