AtarChef Blog: kosher recipes

When friends got word I was writing a food column reactions ranged from pleased smiles — by those who have known me a long time and still call on Friday mornings asking about fine points on some recipe or another — to expressions such as “No way!You?!” Both types of reactions are justified.

I’ve been giving cooking advice — often unsolicited — for decades. Worth listening to? The following story may help you decide:

Both newlyweds, Susie and I were trolling the aisles of the moshav’s little grocery store, hoping for inspiration. In 1977 Israeli stores offered a spartan assortment: basic commodities and a limited range of produce. Few instant products for neophytes to use as a crutch while they scaled the leaning curve of basic cookery. Susie was complaining that Mike — tired of being served cottage cheese as a main dish for the main meal four or five days per week every week — had begun to demand “real food”. But she still wanted to serve something simple and quick to prepare after a day’s work.

I’d done a bit of cooking while still a student, and finally had a couple of fail-safe recipes in my repertoire. One was sautéd liver and onions. Fast, easy, and — served with rice and salad — a very substantial weekday meal. It seemed like a good idea to Susie, so I gave her a quick run-down of the recipe as we made our way to the freezer: Just kasher the liver, add it to a pan of fried onions, and simmer for another minute or so. We reached the freezer and I put a package of chicken livers in my cart. She maintains that I placed the little frozen package of meat in her cart, too — but, trust me, she took it herself.

The following day, shortly before dinnertime, she popped in from next-door to double-check there were no additional steps I’d omitted from the recipe. It seemed *too* easy, she said, and also didn’t smell the way her mother’s liver and onions had. “Trust me,” I said and sent her home. I couldn’t wait to hear her effusive thanks for giving her a delicious recipe and saving her marriage.

But the next day she avoided the topic — and my eye. Not one to gracefully sacrifice glory, I finally broached the topic myself. “So, how did Mike like finally getting a good meal?”

She glared. “Was that your idea of a joke? It wasn’t good — it wasn’t even edible. Mike chewed the same piece for ten minutes and still couldn’t swallow it. So he tried to cut a smaller piece and it wouldn’t even slice, just kind of bounced around on the plate.”

Giblets, we discovered, as we reconstructed the chain of events. She’d briefly grilled and sautéd giblets, which require hours of stewing to render them edible. No wonder it was like serving a pan full of whale blubber.

Lesson #1 for new cooks: Read food labels; multiple products come in similar-looking packages.
Lesson #2: Try this expansion on the theme of liver and onions. You’ll love it. Trust me.

Grandma’s Chopped Liver

1/2 kilo chicken livers, kashered
2 cups onions, chopped
3 hard-boiled eggs, chopped
6 TBS schmaltz

Salt and coarsely ground black pepper to taste Melt schmaltz and sauté onions over low heat until caramelized (soft, brown and sweet). Add liver pieces and sauté until they’re cooked thoroughly, but not dry. Place liver in a wooden chopping bowl and chop finely. Add the onions and melted schmaltz, the chopped eggs, and the seasonings. Mix well. Chill. Serve mounded on lettuce garnished with dill pickles and cherry tomatoes.