Goat, lamb were the original barbecue meats
Beef brisket and pork ribs are the typical order at your neighborhood barbecue restaurant, but it wasn’t always that way. One hundred fifty years ago, if you happened to wander into a restaurant or meat market, especially in the western United States (thanks to a Mexican influence), the menu would have featured goat and lamb. The transition from barbecued goat and lamb to beef and pork is a story of evolving tastes among consumers.
When one eats goat or lamb, the word that often comes to mind is “gamey.” Unlike beef and pork, which have relatively mild flavors, goat and lamb have strong flavors that don’t always please an American palate conditioned to more neutral tastes.
We’ve also come to expect more fat in our meats. Lamb and especially goat tend to yield leaner and tougher cuts. Eating a New York strip steak is positively user-friendly compared to the effort required to disassemble and eat a typical cut of goat meat.
But for those willing to try something different, properly prepared goat and lamb are delicious barbecued meats worth seeking out. And in Houston, the best goat and lamb dishes can be found at El Hidalguense.
There’s a long tradition of goat (cabrito) and lamb (borrego) in Mexican cuisine, especially from the state of Hidalgo in central Mexico. El Hidalguense features cuisine from this region, using an authentic wood-fired, brick grill where the meats are cooked and smoked.
The signature item here is cabrito asado, or roasted young goat. Younger goats (usually less than a year old) are prized for a less gamey flavor and relative tenderness. Some aficionados actually prefer the gaminess and toughness of older goats, known as chivito or chevon, which you will occasionally see on menus.
El Hidalguense offers two cuts of cabrito: paleta (shoulder) and riñonada/pierna(ribs/legs).
Paleta tends to be meatier and easier to eat. The whole cabrito shoulder is seasoned and roasted over the grill and served on a sizzling comal with onions and tortillas, fajita-style. Disassembling the shoulder and picking out the meat is an exercise in patience, but there are rewards.
Strip off a piece of meat (add some of the crispy outer skin for extra crunch and flavor), lay it on a tortilla (order the housemade versions), throw on some of the sweet, caramelized onions, ladle on a few drips of the smoky red chile sauce, and you’ll get what an old-style barbecue dish tastes like.
Side note: For reasons I’ve never been able to quite pin down, cabrito is a relatively expensive meat. A single platter is priced around $30 but is certainly worth it for cabrito aficionados and the occasional food adventurer.
For a more familiar dish, try the lamb at El Hidalguense. The barbacoa de Borrego features cuts of lamb (young sheep) that are wrapped in maguey (sturdy leaves of the agave plant) and placed in the grill adjacent to the burning coals, giving the meat a smoky flavor that mellows the slight gaminess. Much like brisket on traditional barbecue-joint menus, you can order the barbacoa in a fattier version (moist) or a leaner version.
Barbacoa de Borrego is much easier to eat — the meat is stripped off the bones and served as a filling for tacos or as part of a plate with rice and beans. My favorite dish is barbacoa de Borrego en salsa verde. The smoky, rich lamb meat is covered in a spicy, slightly acidic tomatillo-and-citrus sauce.
Again, order a batch of the housemade tortillas, pile on the barbacoa, sprinkle on onions, cilantro and red chile sauce, and you’ll get a taste of yesteryear Texas-Mexican barbecue.
For the full El Hidalguense experience, go on a Saturday or Sunday. The restaurant is packed, with a huapango band playing on a small stage along one wall, surrounded by long tables occupied by entire families, many of them expats from Hidalgo, feasting on cabrito and barbacoa.
It’s a taste of Hidalgo in Houston.