Holiday Dip/Schmear, Revisited

Hi. I’m back. Excited?

Didn’t think so.

I’m the guy who used to write a food blog. You may remember me from such blog posts as “My go-to Risotto,” or “Chicken Thighs au Pépin,” or “Pasta alla Norcina,” which was my last post, almost six months ago.

Where did I go? (I know, I know, just pretend you give a damn.)

Well, nowhere, to be honest. I went through a phase where, for reasons I cannot explain, I couldn’t bring myself to write about cooking. Odd, really. And I suppose that it could just be a rationalization for idleness, but there you are. It was also a time when I wasn’t really cooking anything terribly new or interesting, so there wasn’t a lot to share.

But now I find myself at the computer again, writing another recipe. Go figure.

This one, I confess, may be of limited appeal. But stay with me. It’s a chicken liver paté.

I said, stay with me.

Here’s the thing: if you’ve never consumed liver, or other offal (unfortunate word, that), chicken livers are a good starting point. They’re quite mild-tasting, and they purée quite nicely and smoothly, so that many may not realize they are eating liver. I don’t normally encourage dishonesty, but this is one of those situations where people may find that they really like something if they just taste it. But if you tell them it’s liver before they taste it, the pre-programmed biases kick in and they refuse to sample it. 

Oh well. More for me. And for you, should you decided to try this. The end result is very smooth and creamy, almost butter-like in texture, but with an edgy, meaty flavor. Well worth the minimal effort required, if you have a food processor or blender. If you don’t, I’m not sure I’d tackle this one, to be honest.

Discouraged yet?

This one started out as a Julia Child recipe, taken from her first magnum opus, Mastering the Art of French Cooking. But as is usually the case with recipes I’ve been making for years, I’ve departed from the original, partly due to different preferences (she likes thyme, I like rosemary), partly due to laziness (I don’t sieve mine after I purée it), and partly due to changing attitudes toward food (the notion of adding cream AND a stick of butter to this is beyond the pale, even for me).

So as usual, I’ve included her original recipe at the end of the post, but what I did is described below.

One more pedantic note before we begin: technically, this is not a paté, but a mousse. So if you’re entertaining anyone French and/or egregiously pretentious, assure them that this is a mousse de foies de volaille. Alternately, you can note that this is a slightly gussied-up (and non-kosher) variation on chopped liver.

You begin, not surprisingly, with the chicken livers, which have the virtue of being extremely cheap, even at upscale markets like Whole Foods. You are supposed to look them over and cut off any dark or green spots—I’ve been making this for ages, and only once have I had to cut off anything green. This is about a pound of chicken livers, btw.

Drain them in a sieve. A lot of recipes tell you to dry them on paper towels, but I find this almost impossible—in my experience, the raw livers stick to the paper, creating a massive mess. So I just drain mine in a sieve, and crank up the heat a little to cook off any excess moisture.

Then there are aromatics. I’m using rosemary, because I like it, and some shallot (scallion would work just fine), and some minced red chili. If I don’t have fresh chilies, I add some dried chili flakes. This is anathema to the French, I know, but I really think the heat from the chili helps cut the richness here.

Melt some butter in a skillet over medium-high heat (maybe a tablespoon—more if you’re not using a non-stick skillet). When it stops bubbling, add the livers with several big pinches of salt. Sauté them for a minute or two, turning them until they are lightly browned on all sides.

When they are browned, add the aromatics and sauté for another minute or two, stirring frequently so nothing burns. You could add some garlic if you were so inclined, btw.

Now deglaze the pan with a glug of white wine (roughly ⅓ cup or so). As usual, I am using dry vermouth, both because I usually have it on hand and because I rarely seem to have a bottle of white wine open at times like this. Child calls for Madeira or cognac, which are quite tasty but not things I typically stock. I have also used dry sherry to good effect. I probably wouldn’t go with red wine, as I think it might overpower the other flavors, but I’m not a professional, so what do I know?

Let the wine/vermouth/cognac/whatever boil down for a minute or two until it thickens; you can tell when the liquid gets a bit syrupy and the bubbles get bigger, as seen here.

Now dump the whole mess into a food processor.

Fire that sucker up until it’s all puréed.

Now, if you look closely, you’ll see that the mixture is not completely smooth—it still seems a bit nubbly, as Nigella Lawson might say. How do we smooth it out?

Fat. Specifically, heavy cream. With the processor running, pour between ½ and ⅔ cup of cream through the spout. This will lighten things up a bit, while giving the mousse a velvety texture.

That was lighten in color and texture, btw, not calories; let's not kid ourselves. Besides, if you think this is indulgent, Child has you augment the cream with melted butter.

Taste it for seasoning. I often find that it needs more salt, pepper and/or chili flakes at this point, and given that it’s going to be served cold, you want to overseason it a bit (chilling tends to mute the flavors). 

Now decant it into a pretty dish or bowl, or whatever you like, cover it with plastic wrap, and refrigerate it for at least four hours. It will set up and be spreadable after chilling. Then serve it with crackers, or slices of a baguette, or carrot sticks and other raw vegetables if you want to pretend that this is healthy. Bon appetìt, y’all.

From Julia Child, Louisette Bertholle, and Simone Beck, Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Volume 1:

MOUSSE DE FOIES DE VOLAILLE

[Chicken Liver Mousse]

1 lb., or about 2 cups chicken livers

2 Tb minced shallots or green onions

2 Tb butter

⅓ cup Madeira or cognac

¼ cup whipping cream

½ tsp salt

⅛ tsp allspice

⅛ tsp pepper

Pinch of thyme

½ cup (4 ounces) melted butter

Salt and pepper

A skillet

An electric blender

A fairly fine-meshed sieve

A wooden spoon

A decorative bowl or jar

Waxed paper

Look the livers over and remove any greenish or blackish spots. Cut the livers into ½-inch pieces.

Sauté with the shallots or green onions in hot butter for 2 to 3 minutes, until the livers are just stiffened, but still rosy inside. Scrape into the blender jar.

Pour the wine or cognac into the sauté pan and boil it down rapidly until it has reduced to 3 tablespoons. Scrape it into the blender jar.

Add the cream and seasonings to the blender jar. Cover and blend at top speed for several seconds until the liver is a smooth paste.

Then add the melted butter and blend several seconds more.

Force the mixture through the sieve and taste carefully for seasoning.

Pack into the bowl or jar, cover with waxed paper, and chill for 2 to 3 hours. Or chill until almost set and then pack into a mold lined with jelly as described on page 558; chill for several hours before unmolding.