- Michael Gebert
- Iliana Regan at Elizabeth, with frog leg
Yesterday I wrote about going with Iliana Regan to forage frogs—the precise name is frog giggin’—on a golf course in Indiana, near where she grew up. It was three days before I got an e-mail saying that she would have a dish to show off. I wanted to see it—and hopefully taste it—because an essential part of the story, for me, was seeing how Regan took something that has roots in a childhood of hunting and foraging in semirural Indiana, and turned it into something reflecting her experiences in the world of fine dining—which most recently included attending the international Mad Symposium devoted to cutting-edge cuisine, and dining at Noma in Copenhagen.
- Michael Gebert
- Frog leg
And then there’s the frog legs. “These are pretty awesome,” she muses. “Pretty big thighs, wonderful calf muscles, little toes . . .” But then she has to admit, “It’s really probably better that Getty does the frog gigging. Because they’re too cute. Even here, I made Luke [one of her cooks] clean a couple of them because they were still . . . moving a little too much.”
“You get a lot of earthy herbaceousness,” he says. “Like you would expect out of a seaweed, you know?”
