I married an English Jew -- two of my fetishes wrapped up in a short, blond, blue-eyed, hairy, Polish-sailor looking package. With a cute accent.
Because he's from the Chosen people, the boy eats all the weird bits of the meat - sometimes directly from the chicken - even before you can make gravy with it. Waste not, want not. So, the boy likes liver. All kinds, from a nice foie gras to a crude chicken liver pate - he likes it. Once, on a quick excursion to Bath, he even ate liver twice in one meal ... a chicken liver starter followed by a sheep liver main.
I like the foie gras and the pates of this world -- but pure liver reminds me of choking down liver cutlets with copious amounts of Heinz ketchup from my childhood. Although my mother is one of the best cooks in the world, she has a propensity to overcook meat (for fear of poisoning us all), and liver is not one of those meats that can even be slightly overcooked -- hence, my apprehension when Joe brought home a massive liver and plopped it out on the cutting board.
Because we're close to the West Country here in Bristol, the liver is from sheep -- it's actually much harder to get cow's liver ... and then they call it "OX" liver. We just found an ox liver connection, down at the Slow Food Market held in the old part of town on the first Sunday of the month. I've lived in Bristol for 18 months now, but it took a San Franciscan coming to visit to get me to the market (I have been a regular at the Wednesday Farmer's Market and had been pretty disappointed with the offerings ... so had never managed to alter my usual Sunday routine ... which entails Joe bringing me tea and the Observer in bed). But I was pleasantly surprised by the Slow Food market. There were lots of local artisanally produced products -- gorgeous strong cheddar, ciders, and meats raised in Devon and Somerset, and a strong showing of farmer's produce.
Joe's preferred method of cooking liver and onions includes serious lashings of gravy -- a lovely gravy made with said onions, bacon, and mushrooms. Last night we had it served on mashed potatoes. It was our first meal in awhile that didn't include zucchini. It was also raining yesterday -- my own personal raincloud had found me again and seemed to be pouring all over the West Country.