A well-prepared Veal Marsala is marvelous thing, with a mushroom-studded sauce delivering a high-wire balancing act of sweet and savory. A Goldilocks concoction that's not too thick, not too thin, but just right so as not to overwhelm the taste of tender veal.
Sadly, all too often restaurants both grand and humble serve up sad, sad renditions. Simply splashing in some Marsala wine into an otherwise straight forward sauté does not a delicious dish make. And you can do far, far worse. No matter how noble the intentions might have been, I've come across more than my fair share of grotesqueries.
In fact, in the course of writing this post I dined at an expensive yet very Olive Garden-y restaurant in a major metropolis down south. Veal Marsala was on the menu — perfect timing to check out my theory. (See photo with the side dish of pasta.) While the dark sauce was ominous, it was not nearly a strong enough portent of the magnitude of awfulness. A hot mess that somehow nailed the taste and texture of Chinese fast foot beef with black bean sauce. Really. Airport steam table bad. But we were having such a nice time I didn't want to be a buzz kill so I soldiered on. The evening was lovely despite my private sorrow over the VM.
Classic VM is very old-school, with the best renditions found in the highly endangered species of "red-sauce" Italian restaurants. The ones with plenty of plastic ivy, lurid paintings of the Bay of Naples and if you are lucky, the Chianti basketed-bottle as candlestick.
Besides decor, the other litmus test for these establishments is the automatic side dish of pasta with the entrées. "Spaghetti or linguini. Marinara or Bolognese?" Pesto can run you a buck extra.
San Gennaro (patron saint of NYC's Little Italy) and St. Catherine of Sienna (whose atrophied head is on display in the cutest little glass box on the altar of her hometown church) would agree: God helps those who help themselves. Who's to know if the heavenly results of my recipe for Veal Marsala is due to a knack of mimicking the tastes of memory? Or did divine providence play a role? The Lord does work in mysterious ways. The good news is this Veal Chop Marsala that would put a smile on the face of St. Ambrose, the patron saint of St. Louis's renowned Italian neighborhood, The Hill.
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I knew I was going to go big on the flavors in the sauce, so to ensure a very vealy flavor I opted for pressing (literally) a hearty, pristine chop into service. So as not to throw the enterprise off-kilter I pounded the meat into an large thin expanse radiating off the bone. Almost as thin as scallopini with the added bonus of a Fred Flintstone appearance, yet still a reasonable serving size.
I resuscitated some dried wild lobster mushrooms to mix with fresh shiitakis. What else? Well, shallots, chicken stock, Marsala wine, home made grainy mustard, heavy cream, chives and parsley… You know, the usual suspects.
It's all spelled out for you here in the recipe for Veal Chop Marsala (Costoletta di Vitello Marsala).
Don't forget the side of spaghetti marinara!