Making the Pate Happen

I have decided that there is just not a good time of day for me to cut up fresh livers. I've tried it at night with a glass of wine, in the afternoon while the kids were napping, and in the morning after breakfast. No matter what the time of day it just makes my stomach do a little flip. It also doesn't seem to matter what animal the livers are from. Chicken, cow, and pig livers all have that affect on me. It's the smell that really does it, although the texture, which reminds of a semi-hard version of the slime I used to play with as a child doesn't help much either. Perhaps it's one of those acquired things. And while I have acquired a taste for stout beers I just can't get on board the liver train.

Note of clarification: With the exception of chicken livers I am totally capable of enjoying a pate once it is cooked. It's just the whole raw part, the chopping up of organs, that gives me the heebie jeebies.

So as you might have guessed by that rockin' introduction, this week I was facing down yet another pile of liver in my kitchen. This time was sort of impressive though. The liver I was using was from my pig. A fresh liver looks very different from one that has been frozen and thawed. There is a design across the surface that reminds me of the flesh of a sting ray. It is beautiful in its own sort of way.

This time I am making a pate called Leverpostej for my final charcutepalooza meal. It's a Danish spreadable liver paste. I will be serving it for the appetizer at my big dinner this Saturday accompanied by the salami and chorizo I cured, as well as some nice cheeses and crackers. There's no point in keeping that part of the meal a secret, after all, there's only a small handful of ways to serve up a pate. I got the recipe for this pate out of Pates & Other Marvelous Meatloaves by Dorothy Ivens.  I really liked the last one I made from her book so I figured I give another recipe a go. I sneaked a small bit off the side when it came out of the oven (because I'm the cook and I'm allowed to do that sort of thing) and I think it's going to be pretty darn-tootin'-tastic.

Leverpostej

From Pates & Other Marvelous Meatloaves by Dorothy Ivens

"Make Leverpostej one day, serve it the next, or up to fives days later. It improves with keeping, well wrapped and refrigerated."

For a 5-cup loaf pan (8 1/2" x 4 1/2" x 2 1/2")

Ingredients:

• 1 pound fresh pork liver (or beef liver)
• 1/2 pound fresh pork fat (from the loin, or from a fresh ham) in 1-inch pieces
• 1 small onion, coarsely chopped (about 1/2 cup)
• 3 anchovy fillets, drained
• 2 tablespoons butter
• 2 tablespoons flour
• 1/2 cup milk
• 1/2 cup heavy cream
• 2 eggs
• 1 1/4 teaspoons salt
• 1 1/4 teaspoons Quatre-Espices or 3/4 teaspoon white pepper and 1/8 teaspoon each ground cloves, ground ginger, and ground nutmeg
• 1/2 pound bacon slices to line bottom and sides of the pan

Directions:

1. Trim membranes from the liver and cut into 1-inch pieces. Combine liver, pork fat, onion, and anchovies in a large mixing bowl.
2. In a small saucepan, melt the butter and stir in the flour. Remove from the heat and whisk in the milk and cream. Put back on the heat and bring to a boil, stirring constantly. Simmer for a few minutes, still stirring, until sauce is smooth and very thick. Cool.
3. Divide the meat mixture into three parts and mix in the blender a third at a time, moistening each with a third of the cream sauce. Remove each batch when smooth to a large bowl.
4. Lightly beat the eggs and add the salt and seasonings. Mix thoroughly with the liver mixture. (The result will be very liquid.)
5. Line a 5-cup loaf pan or mold with bacon. Cover the bottom first and then press slices on the sides and ends, cutting pieces to fit when necessary. (The bacon will adhere to the pan.) Pour in the liver mixture. Do not put bacon on the top; it will sink in. Cover with heavy foil, sealing the edges well. Place in a larger shallow pan and pour in boiling water to come halfway up the sides of the loaf pan. Set in a pre-heated 350° oven and cook for 1 3/4 hours. Remove from the oven and allow to cool with the foil loosened. When loaf has come to room temperature, cover and refrigerate overnight.
6. To unmold, run a knife around the edge of the loaf, immerse the pan in an inch or so of hot water for a moment or two, and slide out onto a platter or cutting board, right side up. Yields about 15 half-inch slices.