No, not that. Well, maybe … No, that is a different subject. What I was thinking of was liver.
Not my own. I’ve treated it with a certain amount of respect since I stopped drinking so, damn it, it ‘owes’ me.
No, I mean liver of the ‘offal’ not ‘awful’ kind – though there are misguided souls that consider liver a vile foodstuff.
Not me. Some beef liver with grilled onions, bacon and mashed potatoes is close to heaven for me; especially after all the fancyass Christmas stuff one has been consuming. I crave simple meals.
And you can’t get more simple than liver. It’s truly basic grub. Some might even call it guts, but it’s not. That would come under the tripe category.
Unless it’s with kidneys. I mean, really? Kidneys? As my late and lamented mother-in-law used to comment about preparing kidneys: “First off, you boil the piss out of them.”
And, yeah, I guess that’s what you do. I mean, kidneys are the primary elements of the water-works of you and me and the cow we took them from.
But, I love them, And I don’t boil them. I merely sauté them in butter and then in the last few minutes inject them into a stew or a pie and I find them heavenly.
I’ve also done the English breakfast thing of grilled kidneys on toast. Not so bad.
But, steak and kidney pie (or ‘kate and sydney’ pie, as my mom called it) is sheer ambrosia. My love for it also evinces my Anglo-Saxon heritage because the Brits are always eating crap like bubble-and-squeak, toad-in-the-hole, spotted dick, and blood pudding (which has absolutely nothing to do with dessert).
And that was why they beat Napoleon and Hitler. I mean, Napoleon. Frogs legs and slugs? You don’t win wars on amphibians and land-borne mollusks, everybody knows that. And on the German side, I suspect sauerkraut has defeated more Panzer brigades and Luftwaffes then any decent suet pudding.
OK, this is now getting a bit risible. But, I still have a craving for liver and onions.