Well, we’ve come to it: the first recipe I trampled upon so much I am concerned sharing it at all makes me negligent. It started with the best of intentions: I made roast chicken (not the Favorite Chicken; we’ll get there eventually, I promise, I swear) over the weekend and of course tucked neatly inside were its extra bits. My father taught me long ago that these parts are not to be ignored; in fact, he claimed my grandmother used to take advantage of the neck seeming gross to her children and always saved it for herself. Usually I sear the livers, heart and neck in a cast iron with some olive oil and salt and they’re a great little snack while cooking. But this time, I came across them and thought, okay, maybe I make pâté, an appetizer I of course hated as a child but now absolutely love. Of course I also haven’t had in forever because I’m not going out to fancy dinners or making fancy dinners at home; what a perfect opportunity this would be.
What was supposed to be a recipe for pâté
What was supposed to be a recipe for pâté
What was supposed to be a recipe for pâté
Well, we’ve come to it: the first recipe I trampled upon so much I am concerned sharing it at all makes me negligent. It started with the best of intentions: I made roast chicken (not the Favorite Chicken; we’ll get there eventually, I promise, I swear) over the weekend and of course tucked neatly inside were its extra bits. My father taught me long ago that these parts are not to be ignored; in fact, he claimed my grandmother used to take advantage of the neck seeming gross to her children and always saved it for herself. Usually I sear the livers, heart and neck in a cast iron with some olive oil and salt and they’re a great little snack while cooking. But this time, I came across them and thought, okay, maybe I make pâté, an appetizer I of course hated as a child but now absolutely love. Of course I also haven’t had in forever because I’m not going out to fancy dinners or making fancy dinners at home; what a perfect opportunity this would be.