Game night, indeed

It was, without question, the best elk-heart taco I have ever had.

Your assumption about the total number of elk-heart tacos I have ever had -- significantly fewer than two -- is entirely correct. But even so, that does not detract from the overall quality of the elk-heart taco I ate, which was awesome. The meat had been cut into small pieces and roasted, then served in a soft corn tortilla and topped with avocado and pico de gallo, the familiar mixture of tomatoes, onion, and pepper.

The combination of flavors was utter perfection. Of course, for all I know that is the way elk-heart tacos are always served. Maybe that is the way they sell 'em by the millions at Elk-Heart Taco Bell (the nearest franchise, presumably, would be in Elkhart, Ind.).

The taco was perhaps the top highlight among a veritable epicurean highlight reel that was the 16th annual wild game dinner held a couple of weeks ago at the Toledo Club. Two hundred and sixty-seven people -- my informal count put it at 264 men and three women, but I may have been overestimating the number of women -- crammed into the club for a night of dining on exotic or unusual foods.

The tacos were only the beginning, one of several intriguing appetizers. One of them greeted you when you first walked in the door, a whole spit-roasted goat. Through an unusual coincidence, that was actually the second roasted goat I'd had that week, but still the meat was out of the ordinary. And the other hors d'oeuvres were equally unusual: sushi, sure, but these sushi were filled with duck, bison, monkfish, and boar. And venison sliders, which followed the current fad of taking ordinary fare such as mini-burger sliders and turning them gourmet.

These were followed by a pacu rib salad, pacu being a Brazilian fish that, when cooked (as these were) with a light barbecue glaze, are meaty in texture but mild in flavor. As it turns out, they are delicious. According to Blade reporter Ignazio Messina, who once tried to raise one, they also grow ridiculously fast, have a mouth full of scary, piranha-like teeth, and tend to harm themselves and other fish. And yes, knowing all that somehow made them taste even better.

Two meats shared the honors of being entrees, ostrich filet and antelope, which was cooked osso bucco style. In this particular company, the ostrich was actually the most mundane part of the meal. It was tender and meaty, with a big flavor, but compared to the rest of the menu, ostrich is commonplace. Antelope osso bucco, on the other hand, is not the kind of thing you encounter in your daily life. Frankly, it is a dish you only expect to eat at a meal that also features elk-heart tacos, and it was every bit as outstanding as they were: Tender and meaty, with a big flavor -- just like the ostrich, but it was antelope osso bucco. That gets extra style points right there.

Dessert, incidentally, was goat-cheese cheesecake. You know how good cheesecake is, right? And you know how exceptionally flavorful is goat cheese. Put the two together. Do the culinary math. Wow.

All of this was created and cooked by Toledo Club executive chef Mike Rosendaul, a man who knows his pacu from his osso bucco. In another context last week he talked about how he likes to give an unexpected twist to traditional fare, and that is something he did at the wild game dinner with a food as typically ordinary as, say, a taco.

The club's assistant general manager, Miguel Cueto, said that the dinners are so popular because the foods are so unusual; it is their very rarity -- their oddity -- that makes them so desirable.

That was certainly true for me; I'm not one to pass up a chance to eat elk-heart tacos. But it also helps that these foods were so outstandingly delicious, the antelope osso bucco, the ostrich filets, the spit-roasted goat, the wild-game sushi, and all the rest.

It was a great night. It just was not a good night for vegetarians.

Contact Daniel Neman at dneman@theblade.com or 419-724-6155.