As a kid, I absolutely loved chopped liver until I understood that chopped liver was actually chopped liver. I would no longer touch it. It broke my grandmother’s heart.
Now, it’s a different story. Mmmm (hear the foodgasm rolling through my lips), I love chicken liver. Why? Because when made right, it tastes like the deepest oozing of love that food can transmit. I have an elderly Italian lady to thank for opening me to the sensual magic of the chicken liver. Her name is Maria. She was the caretaker of the Tuscan estate where I learned to cook and she became a very dear friend.
Now, Grandma, may you rest in peace. In spirit you still are the gentle and powerful matriarch of our family. Grandma, the truth is, your chicken liver was amazing, but Maria’s is better. It’s not your fault. Its just that the Jewish recipe you prepared did not and could not have compared simply because you had no access to Vin Santo, the heavenly dessert wine of Tuscan vineyards that makes Maria’s crostoni superior in the world! Jewish chopped liver calls for hard boiled eggs, which are no contestant to the ambrosian Vin Santo. An egg to vin santo, I mean please! I am hoping they can give you a sip of it up there in heaven so you know just what I am talking about. So you can come back down here in another body, perhaps as my granddaughter, and I can share my love for you with chicken liver crostoni cooked in Vin Santo.