Chicken Liver Pate with a Fig and Red Wine Compote

I've mentioned before that a lot of people in my family are big fans of chicken livers; when I brought a Daring Cook's pate recipe to a party, people claimed to love it even though it looked and tasted a bit like dog food. So when another family party came around, I decided that I wanted to attempt a chicken liver pate reprisal.

Some internet searching turned up an Epicurious recipe, which, once modified, produced almost exactly what I was looking for. This pate is smooth and sophisticated, not to mention delicious. Plus, it's super-easy to make, but if you don't tell people about that little fact, they'll probably think that you spent a few hours on it. You can even make it way ahead of time, freeze it, and then defrost it for impromptu dinner parties.

Chicken Liver Pate with a Fig and Red Wine Compote

(Adapted from Epicurious)

• Nonstick vegetable oil spray
• 1 pound chicken livers, trimmed
• 1 cup canned low-salt chicken broth
• 1 small onion, thinly sliced
• 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature
• 3 tablespoons Cognac
• 1 1/4 teaspoons salt
• 1 teaspoon thyme leaves
• 2 small pinches allspice
• Freshly ground black pepper
• 1 cup dry red wine
• 3/4 cup dried black Mission figs, cut in half
• 1 large sprig fresh rosemary
• Optional: 1/2 cup chopped toasted walnuts or pecans
• 1 French-bread baguette, sliced, toasted if you like

Spray a 3-cup soufflé dish, a terrine, or 4 6-ounce ramekins (my preference) with vegetable oil spray. Line the dish or dishes with plastic wrap; spray plastic. Combine chicken livers, broth and onion in medium saucepan. Bring to boil, cover and simmer until livers are cooked through, stirring occasionally, about 12 minutes.

While the chicken livers simmer, bring wine, figs, rosemary, and 3 grinds of fresh black pepper to simmer in small saucepan. Simmer until figs soften, about 15 minutes. Remove the figs with a slotted spoon and set aside. Reduce the wine until it's a thick syrup, about 5 minutes (you'll probably have a tablespoon or two). Remove and discard the rosemary.

In a blender or in the bowl of a small food processor, puree the figs into a paste. Spoon the syrup into the bottom of the prepared dish or dishes, and spoon the figs over top.

Drain cooking liquid; transfer chicken livers and onion to food processor. Add butter, Cognac, salt, thyme, allspice, and 4 grinds of black pepper to processor. Puree until smooth. Spoon on top of the fig puree, and fold the plastic wrap down over the surface, or cover with more plastic wrap if there is not enough to fold over. Refrigerate at least 4 hours, preferably overnight.

Unmold pâté onto platter. If you're using the nuts, press them onto sides of pâté. Serve with toasts or bread.

Daring Cook's Challenge: Pate and Baguettes

Blog-checking lines: Our hostesses this month, Evelyne of Cheap Ethnic Eatz, and Valerie of a The Chocolate Bunny, chose delicious pate with freshly baked bread as their June Daring Cook’s challenge! They’ve provided us with 4 different pate recipes to choose from and are allowing us to go wild with our homemade bread choice.
 

I have to admit that I wasn't too crazy about the prospect of making this Daring Cook's challenge. Don't get me wrong--I love liver, as I discussed in a previous post. It's just that I knew Nick wouldn't want to eat it and there was no way I was going to be able to eat a chicken liver terrine the size of a whole loaf of bread.

Luckily, the perfect opportunity to dispose of said loaf came along in the form of a family party. As I've said before, my family loves liver, so they were quite willing to dispatch a whole lot of liveriness, no matter that it looked and smelled like dog food. No, seriously. It did.

Happily, this little experiment tasted better than it smelled. I might even consider making it again, particularly because the leftovers (and I promise you that there will be leftovers) can be divided into smaller portions, frozen, and defrosted at any time. I might even take a less sucky picture of it.

So what would I not do next time? Forget the Cognac. As I was tasting for seasoning, I kept thinking "Hmmm...Something's missing, but I can't quite put my finger on what it might be." It wasn't until it had been taken out of the oven to cool that I realized my error. I think that the Cognac would have perfectly provided that missing Something, but that's just too bad.


You know what else I wouldn't do? Taste for seasoning and decide that it needs a bit more cloves. The finished product tasted overwhelmingly of cloves, although nobody else seemed to mind. Note to self: the seasonings are perfect. Do not mess with them.


Part of the challenge was to make baguettes to serve as the plate-to-mouth vehicle, although my brother dispensed with such niceties. I of course decided to make Jim Lahey's recipe, which I've previously discussed here, and a post with the recipe is in the works.


The result? Curiously underwhelming. Next time I'll probably stick with either his standard recipe or his ciabatta recipe. Nonetheless, like I've said before, this bread will still impress your friends and family and buy you some love.

Chicken Liver Terrine

Yields one 25 by 12,5 cm (10 by 5 inch) terrine or loaf pan

-1 tablespoon duck fat, or butter
-2 onions, coarsely chopped
-300g (11 oz) chicken livers, trimmed
-3 tablespoon brandy, or any other liqueur

-100g (3 1/2 oz, 1/2 cup) smoked bacon, diced
-300g (11 oz) boneless pork belly, minced
-200g (7 oz) ground pork-2 shallots, chopped
-1 teaspoon quatre-épices (or 1/4tsp each of ground pepper, cloves, nutmeg and ginger is close enough)
-2 eggs
-200 ml (7 fl oz, 3/4 cup + 2 tbsp) heavy cream
-2 fresh thyme sprigs, chopped
-Salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.

Melt the fat or butter in a heavy frying pan over low heat. Add the onions and cook, stirring occasionally, for 5 minutes, until softened. Add the chicken livers and cook, stirring frequently, for about 5 minutes, until browned but still slightly pink on the inside.

Remove the pan from heat. Pour in the brandy, light a match and carefully ignite the alcohol to flambé. Wait for the flames to go out on their own, carefully tilting the pan to ensure even flavoring. When the mixture has cooled slightly, transfer to a food processor and cop until finely minced.

Put the minced pork belly and ground pork in the food processor, then add the onion-liver mixture and the chopped shallots, and pulse until you obtain a homogenous mixture – make sure not to reduce it to a slurry.

Transfer to a bowl, and gradually stir in the chopped bacon, quatre-épices, cream, eggs, and thyme. Season with salt and pepper, and mix well. Spoon the mixture into a terrine or loaf pan, and cover with the terrine lid or with aluminum foil.

Prepare a water bath: place the loaf pan in a larger, deep ovenproof dish (such as a brownie pan or a baking dish). Bring some water to a simmer and carefully pour it in the larger dish. The water should reach approximately halfway up the loaf pan.

Put the water bath and the loaf pan in the oven, and bake for 2 hours. Uncover and bake for another 30 minutes. The terrine should be cooked through, and you should be able to slice into it with a knife and leave a mark, but it shouldn’t be too dry. Refrigerate, as this pâté needs to be served cold. Unmold onto a serving platter, cut into slices, and serve with bread.

NOTE: This pâté freezes well. Divide it into manageable portions, wrap tightly in plastic film, put in a freezer Ziploc bag, and freeze. Defrost overnight in the fridge before eating.

By the way--this guy was for another meal, but I'm wondering if maybe some people out there have some answers for me.

I seasoned him with some salt and pepper and stuffed him with some herbs (summer savory, oregano, and epazote) and lemon, brushed him with some oil, and attempted to grill him.

The meat was properly cooked and ultimately edible, but my problem was the skin sticking to the grill grates. I oiled the fish, which was apparently not the solution. Does anyone know how to prevent this? My other problem is a recurring one--the fish tasted a bit like propane. I don't have this problem with meats, just fish. Again--why? Help!

Fettuccine Verdi ai Fegatini, or Green Fettuccine with Chicken Livers

Frequently, our culinary exploits resemble nothing so much as a comedy of errors. Take out recent meal, for example--it called for making green pasta, which was going fine until it was time to roll out the dough.

Sometimes, for whatever reason, I seem to be lacking the right touch when it comes to the pasta dough, and rather than expelling a lovely smooth sheet of pasta, the rollers produce a shredded mass of green tatters. As the dough disintegrates into disarray, it makes a strangely palpable noise, "Squeaky! Squeaky! Squeaky!" and then "Splat! Splat! Splat!" as it misses my hands and hits the floor.

This is the scenario my Dad witnessed as he walked into the kitchen--Hunter standing by, half horrified, half amused, as the pasta goes, "Squeaky! Squeaky! Splat splat splat!"

After standing there for a minute with an 'Are you kidding me?' look on his face, my Dad said "Call Domino's!" (This was a joke, not a command). Hunter said later, "Little did he know, that wasn't the first time that happened."
"Yes, but it was the best," I said.
"True."

I've mentioned that every time I make pasta, there comes a moment where I become convinced that it's just not going to work this time. I tell myself, though, that if the Worst Cooks in America can make homemade pasta, then darn it, I can too.

And I did. At one point there was pasta in the cuff of my pants, but in the end, this was just about all the green dough that went to waste as a result of my suckiness:

Plus, no penguins interfered this time, so the pasta was not overcooked.

This, by the way is what Hunter thinks of the pasta roller:

I was initially going to explain that the first part is a bit tricky, so I'd let him do the cutting part, but he soon witnessed this for himself, and I think he liked the cutting part.

This spinach, a.k.a. green pasta was eventually tossed with a chicken liver sauce. Hey, don't diss the chicken livers. You'll hurt their feelings.

I will admit that they do look pretty gross.

The camera couldn't function in autofocus because they're just amorphous blobs, and they still look that way after using manual focus. Poor little guys.

More and more cookbooks offer recipes for liver, because in the high-low trends of today, things that were once declasse are gaining new status as the trend du jour. 'Look how cool I am,' you can say; 'I can mix H&M with Chanel and eat like an early twentieth century European peasant at Michelin starred restaurants.' I actually really like this turn of events in both worlds. Julia Child and Coco Chanel were ahead of everyone on this, though.

I can claim to have liked chicken livers for a long time because I'm cool like that. But admittedly, not all my life. Chicken livers are very popular in Italy, and my Italian grandmother would frequently make chicken livers at family gatherings because all of the adults loved them. The kids, however, would run screaming out of the room as soon as the smell of searing poultry organs began to waft into the air.

I was one of those screaming kids until one of the adults said, "Oh, shut up and try one." That's a life lesson there, by the way.

I cautiously put it in my mouth, gave it a tentative chew, and found that, yes, it actually is quite enjoyable, even down to the dense, somewhat powdery texture. We have since then attempted to make chicken livers the way my grandmother did, but like paella, it's never as good as the first version you had.

So I knew as soon as I saw this recipe that I had to try it, and although it meant carrying the Kitchenaid stand mixer up three flights of steps, I decided to make it at my Dad's house. I figured I could get Hunter to carry it: "Holy s%#& this is heavy!" Yes it is. That's why you're carrying it, not me. That sounds terrible, but I have three flights of steps at my house, so I'd already done my turn.



Okay, so pancetta, I mean bacon, rendered its fat, and carrots onions and garlic were softened. Chicken livers, cloves, a bay leaf, reconstituted dried porcini and their mushroom water, tomato paste and white wine were added, and this was simmered for half an hour. Some diced scallions were thrown in and the sauce was simmered for 10 more minutes before it was tossed with the pasta.

Oooohh! We need Parmesan!

I mentioned that the pasta was properly cooked, but it was a bit lacking in flavor. I have a tendency to oversalt our meals because I loooove salt, so I've sometimes lately been overcompensating by undersalting instead. Exhibit A:



Tasteless pasta.

As my Dad said, he voted with his fork, and showed me his bowl that was filled with pasta and devoid of any liver bits.

The liver sauce was quite tasty, and certainly not too livery. This might be a good dish to serve to someone who claims to not like liver, as the bacon and other ingredients play a strong supporting role.

Hunter and I agree, however, that if we were to make it again, some changes would be made. As usual, we're not sure if we'll make it again, but if we do, we'll use red wine instead of white, add some chopped tomatoes, leave out the carrots, add some red pepper flakes and fresh rosemary, and use plain instead of green pasta. The last stipulation was my Dad's, actually--he found the green pasta objectionable solely on the basis of its color. Its lack of flavor didn't help matters, either.

Perhaps someday I will make a wholly successful meal for the fam. In the meantime, I'll leave you with some shots of the macabre voodoo/effigy thing made from the splattered pasta pieces in a collaborative effort by Hunter and my Dad.




I prefer this guy, though:


One more thing--I think I've finalized the list of 10X10 cookbooks. Here it is:

1. Ad Hoc, by Thomas Keller
2. French Laundry by Thomas Keller
3. Braise, by Daniel Boulud
4. Parisian Home Cooking, by Michael Roberts
5. Mastering the Art of French Cooking, by Julia Child and Company
6. My French Kitchen, by Joanne Harris
7. Molto Italiano by Mario Batali
8. Italian Grill by Mario Batali
9. Sunday Suppers at Lucques by Suzanne Goin
10. Mexico the Beautiful

Fettuccine Verdi ai Fegatini

Green Fettuccine with Chicken Livers

(Originally from Molto Italiano, Very Much Adapted)

• 2 ounces dried porcini
• 2 cups hot water
• 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
• 4 slices bacon, diced
• 1 onion, diced
• 3 cloves of garlic, crushed
• 1 pound chicken livers
• 1 15-ounce can whole tomatoes
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 cup red wine
• 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
• 2 teaspoons chopped fresh rosemary
• Salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 2 scallions, finely chopped
• 1 1/4 pounds green pasta dough (see below), cut into fettuccine
• Freshly grated Parmesan Reggiano, to serve

In a small bowl soak the dried mushrooms in hot water for 10 minutes. Lift out the mushrooms, reserving the liquid, and finely chop; set aside. Strain the liquid through is fine sieve and set aside.


In a large sauté pan, combine the olive oil and bacon and cook over medium-low heat until the bacon has rendered its fat. If desired, ladle out some of the fat. Maybe save it for another use. Add the onion and garlic, increase the heat to high, and sauté until softened. Add the chicken livers and cook, stirring occasionally, until browned. Add the tomatoes, bay leaf, and wine, and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer for 30 minutes, occasionally breaking up the tomatoes with a spatula or wooden spoon.


Remove the bay leaf. Add the red pepper flakes, rosemary, scallions, and reserved porcini liquid and simmer for 10 more minutes. Season to tasate with salt and pepper.


Meanwhile, bring a large, salted pot of water to boil. Add the pasta and cook until tender, 1 to 2 minutes. Drain.


Add the pasta to the pan with the sauce and toss over high heat for 1 minute. Divide evenly among 4 warm pasta bowls, to with the Parmesan, and serve immediately.

Green Pasta

(From Molto Italiano)

• 1 cup packed spinach leaves
• Salt
• 3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, plus additional for kneading
• 5 large eggs

Bring a large pot of water to a boil, and a teaspoon of salt. Set up an ice bath next to the stove. Blanch one cup packed spinach leaves in the water for 45 seconds, and remove with tongs or a slotted spoon and plunge into the ice bath for 2 minutes.


Drain the spinach and squeeze dry in a kitchen towel, removing as much moisture as possible. Chop the spinach very fine and combine with the eggs in a small bowl. Stir well until as smooth as possible.


Mound the flour in the center of a large wooden board and sprinkle it with a teaspoon of salt. Make a well in the center of the flour and add the egg and spinach mixture. Using a fork or your fingers, with a swirling motion, begin to incorporate the flour, starting with the inner rim of the well. As you expand the well, keep pushing the flour up to retain the well shape.


When half of the flour is incorporated, the dough will begin to come together. Start kneading the dough, using primarily the palm of your hands. Once the dough is a cohesive mass, set the dough aside and scrape up and discard any dry bits of dough.


Lightly flour the board and continue kneading for 10 minutes. Seriously--10 minutes. Dust the board with additional flour as necessary. The dough should be smooth, elastic, and a little sticky. Wrap the dough in plastic wrap and allow to rest for 30 minutes at room temperature. 

To roll out the pasta, divide it into 6 pieces (if you're making the whole pasta recipe, rolling all of it, and drying the other half). Make each piece into a dish shape. 

With your plain roller set to the largest setting (lower number), pass the dough through once. Fold like a book (one flat piece in the back, and two pieces folded over on the sides so that they almost meet in the middle) and pass through again. Fold like a book and repeat 2 more times. After the last time, send the pasta through as is.

Then, put the roller on the next smallest setting and pass the dough through. Continue to do this on smaller and smaller settings until the pasta is the right thickness (a 5 on Kitchenaid stand mixers). Lay the dough out on a flat surface and cover with a towel so that it does not dry out, and repeat with the remaining lumps of dough.

When all of the pasta is laid out flat, switch to the fettuccine-cutting roller, and pass the pieces of dough through, one at a time. Again, spread out the dough and cover with a towel so that it does not dry out. Proceed with whatever recipe you're using this in.