If you're going to abandon the One True Faith, be excommunicated from the First Church of the Holy Eggplant of the Blessed Legume, and exchange the heavenly rewards of seitan for the earthly pleasures of Satan, you may as well get as much joy and flavor out of it as possible. And there is no more joyous or flavorful bit of gastronomic apostasy than the thymus glands of a calf, gently poached and carefully picked over, then pressed, lightly floured, sautéed, and bathed in a luxurious chanterelle cream sauce richer than Bill Gates but ever so much more exciting. Most restaurants would barely dare to even offer it as a special, but at suave, elegant La Cigale, this devilishly seductive number sits proudly on the regular menu. Truly, a blessed event. Can I get an amen?