Getting Down to Business

This being an odd bits blog, you were probably starting to wonder when or if I'll ever get around to cooking any odd bits. The truth is I've been working my way up to it. Slowly. Not only am I being careful about how I acquire the odd bits (which takes time), but there's also my subconscious to deal with. Despite my high level of interest, I'm nervous about what I'll discover once I have a dish of odd-bits meat sitting in front of me. Deep down I still harbor all the negative meat-tasting experiences I've had in my life. This morning, while I was eating breakfast, I thought it would be no problem to thumb through one of my odd-bits cookbooks to find a recipe for my next cooking adventure. I have butchered. I have discussed the indelicate topic of slaughtering over lunch with strangers. Surely looking through a harmless book with tripe recipes while eating won't affect me, right? But within minutes I was no longer interested in finishing my breakfast. OK. So I am not that tough.

I feel really good about where I'm getting my meat, which is key for me to feel good about cooking (and eating) the odd bits. Freshness and knowing the source of your meat (and organs) is paramount for safety and for the best flavor experience possible, and I believe I have achieved that. My rational self says there is nothing to fear. So we push on.

As I said, I am going slowly, which for me means starting with organs I am already a little familiar with. I was served beef liver and onions (ketchup on the side) a few times when I was little (bleck), which in retrospect seems odd to me. I don't remember my mom or dad being a huge fan of liver, can't imagine them thinking we, as kids, would take to it. And we didn't have it enough to make me think we ate it because we couldn't afford other, more expensive cuts. Thinking even further back, liver was the bait we tied to the end of our lines to catch crawdads at Lake Jacomo. So versatile, this meat. Yum!

Liver did not come back into my life until I was in my late teens. I ate liver pâté while on a student exchange to Germany. I came back to the States and instantly fell in love with Braunschweiger liverwurst. I couldn't understand how too much of it could possibly be bad for you!

So having already established a rapport with this dish but never having made it myself before, I have decided to make pâté for this week's odd-bit cooking challenge. 

I will again invoke my cousin Bill's name (his contributions to this odd-bits adventure are truly too numerous to count) since he is the one who brought this recipe by Jacque Pépin to my attention. It actually calls for chicken livers, but because I have not yet established a sustainable/organic supply of these, I am going to use the pig liver that came with the pig we butchered a couple months ago. As a result, you can see I took some liberties with the title of the recipe. Bill was right about this pâté. I had no idea it could be this mellow, delicate, and aromatic. And easy! Holy mackerel. Preparation takes a total of about 10 minutes. 

Choose-Your-Liver Pâté

1/2 lb. of liver(s), well-trimmed
1/2 small onion, thinly sliced
1-5 cloves garlic, smashed
3-4 bay leaves, whole
1-3 tsp. thyme or rosemary, leaves
salt to taste
1/2 c. water
1 1/2 sticks unsalted butter at room temp
2 tsp cognac or whiskey (I used white wine)
pepper (to taste)
toasted baguette slices or crackers

Pâté ingredients simmering away on the stove, pre-food processor.

The recipe recommends choosing "paler" livers if you have the choice, since these will have a mellower flavor than the deep red ones. Combine the liver(s), onion, garlic, bay leaf(ves), thyme/rosemary, and 1/2 tsp salt in a sauce pan. Add the water and bring to a simmer. Cover, reduce the heat, and stir occasionally for about 3 minutes. Remove from heat and let stand covered for 5 minutes.

Discard the bay leaves. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the liver, onions, and garlic into a food processor and process until coursely pureed. With the machine on add the butter 2 Tbsp at a time until fully incorporated. Add the cognac/whiskey/wine and season with salt and pepper to taste until completely smooth. Pour into ramekins. Press a piece of plastic wrap directly onto the surface of the pâté and refrigerate until firm. Serve chilled.

The finished pâté spread onto toasted, thinly sliced homemade birdseed bread. Cooking it is the fast part; it's waiting for it to chill and firm up so you can eat it that takes so dang long!

After making it, I now understand why it could be so bad for you. It is incredibly rich with all that butter, but that's also what makes it so luxurious and smooth, a really wonderful way to treat yourself from time to time. My favorite way to eat it is slathered in a baguette with nothing else. There is enough bread to completely take the edge off but leaves enough of that distinct taste that lets you know you're eating something really special. In a future version of this, I will add more rosemary. I did not do the leaves as the recipe calls for. Instead I took dried rosemary and ground it up in a spice blender. This would make it possible to incorporate it into the pâté (cranking up the aromatic-ness of the spread) instead of leaving it behind in the simmer liquid.