Liver
Tell it not in Gath-but yet it is notorious that there are three dishes which, if put upon the bill of fare in a club, are devoured before all else; so that at seven or eight o'clock, when most members dine, there is nothing left of them but the tempting words on the dinner-bill. These dishes are, Irish stew, tripe and onions, liver and bacon. What a tribute this to the homely cookery of England! We shall speak of this calf's liver directly, but it must give place to that of the goose, which in the Liver pies of Strasbourg and Périgord has a surpassing renown as the most delicate meat in the world.
Goose Liver-Foie Gras. "To obtain these livers," says Grimod de la Reynière, "it is necessary to sacrifice the person of the animal. Crammed with food, deprived of drink, and fixed near a great fire, before which it is nailed by its feet on a plank, this goose passes, it must be owned, an uncomfortable life. The torment would indeed be almost intolerable, if the idea of the lot which awaits him did not serve as a consolation. But this perspective makes him endure his sufferings with courage; and when he reflects that his liver, bigger than himself, larded with truffles, and clothed in a scientific pâté, will diffuse all over Europe the glory of his name, he resigns himself to his destiny, and suffers not a tear to flow." These liver pies come over to England chiefly in terrines, and they keep longer in this way; but they are nicest of all in a pâté-coming over fresh in October and November. They also come in tins-that is, the livers alone, without the accompanying forcemeat-to be used in croquettes, kromeskis, and various relishes. But, on the whole, this is a waste. The goose liver is too good to be chopped up and thrown away upon other foods; also it loses something when eaten hot. It is always best cold. If it is desired for an entremet, cut it into pieces and imbed them in the amber of aspic jelly. Duck Liver. The liver of the Toulouse duck is prepared in the same way, and is by most good judges preferred even to that of the Strasbourg goose.
Fowl Liver. There is a little dish which one never sees in Paris at a first-class restaurant; but it is a great favourite at the second-class ones with sanded floors in bye-streets. Impale the livers on a skewer or larkspit, putting a small piece of bacon between each, and toast them before the fire. Calf's Liver.--This is the dish which the Lord Chancellor Eldon was so fond of, and which, when he dined with George the Fourth, was always prepared for him. Cut Liqueur slices of liver and thin rashers of streaky bacon. Fry the bacon first and drain it. Then flour the slices of liver, fry them in the fat of the bacon till well browned, and dish them in alternate order with the rashers of bacon. Pour over them a sauce made by adding some good meat gravy, with a dredging of flour, salt, and pepper, to the fat in the frying-pan. Some people like a little acid in the sauce; and to suit their taste sliced gherkins or pickled walnuts may be added to it.
Two workable recipes are buried in this entry: fowl livers spit-roasted with bacon, and the calf's liver and bacon that Lord Eldon had cooked for him at the royal table. The rest is commentary on foie gras.
- The hinge: do not overcook the liverCalf's liver slices cut about 1/4 to 3/8 inch thick need roughly two minutes a side in hot bacon fat — browned outside, faintly rosy within. Held longer than that, liver turns grey, dry and grainy, and no amount of pan sauce recovers it.
- Streaky baconThis is the fatty side bacon sold as regular bacon in the United States; British back bacon will not render enough fat to fry the liver in. Cook it slowly to render properly, drain, and keep it warm while the liver goes into the fat.
- Soaking and membraneModern calf's liver is usually sold already skinned, but pull off any tough outer membrane or the slices will curl in the pan. A short soak in milk mellows the flavour of older or larger liver, though good veal liver does not need it.
- The pan sauceWhat is described is a plain gravy: a dredging of flour into the remaining fat, then good meat stock whisked in, seasoned. Keep it loose — a couple of tablespoons of fat to a cup of stock. The sliced gherkins or pickled walnuts stirred in at the end are the best part of the instruction and worth taking seriously.
- Larkspit and toasting before the fireA larkspit was a slender skewer for very small birds. Metal skewers under a hot broiler, or over charcoal, do the same job; the livers want three to four minutes total, turned once, and the bacon between them bastes as it renders.
- Terrine, pâté, tinThe entry implies a distinction: the terrine keeps, while the pâté arrives fresh in October and November, which fits the usual sense of a potted preparation sealed in its earthenware pot as against the same forcemeat baked in pastry. The tinned "livers alone, without the accompanying forcemeat" would correspond roughly to what is now sold as whole-lobe foie gras.
- Foie gras todayForce-feeding is prohibited in a number of countries and in some US jurisdictions, and sale is restricted in others. Ethically farmed fattened duck and goose liver, and unfattened whole poultry livers for the skewer dish, are the practical substitutes.
- YieldThe recipe gives no quantities. Reckon 5 to 6 oz of liver per person with two or three rashers of bacon, so about 1 1/2 lb of liver for four. Both dishes need to go straight from pan to plate.
Kettner's Book of the Table (1877) is credited to the journalist E. S. Dallas and takes its name from Auguste Kettner's Soho restaurant; the habit of hanging a joke and a piece of gossip on every entry is characteristic of him. John Scott, Lord Eldon, was Lord Chancellor through the Regency and had a reputation for plain tastes; the story that liver and bacon was always prepared for him when he dined with George IV comes from this entry itself and is not easily confirmed elsewhere. The long passage on the suffering goose is quoted from Grimod de La Reynière, whose Almanach des Gourmands (1803-12) did much to create the genre of comic gastronomic writing that Dallas is imitating; the joke about the bird consoling itself with posthumous fame was some seventy years old when Kettner's reprinted it. Strasbourg and Périgord were then the two acknowledged centres of fattened liver, and the note that Toulouse duck liver was preferred by good judges anticipates the shift toward duck that now dominates production.