What the postman brings to an Ethicurean (ware)house…

It's kinda been all Farm Bill, all the time around the blog for what seems like a while.

I've had a nasty cold that stole my voice for over a week, causing me to sound like Demi Moore with a tracheotomy. A vat of homemade chicken noodle soup seems to have finally banished the bugs: I credit the six (yes, six!) carcasses of roasted pastured chickens past (they were little, and I have a big pot) for my recovery and for preventing my husband from fully coming down with it.

Took me a few days to convince the Potato Non Grata to have some, as he had wandered over to stir the pot and was disconcerted to see several claw-like feet and a few cockscomb-bedecked heads bobbing about. (Extra gelatin.) I promised that none of the meat returned to the broth post-straining had come from said externities, but still he left the chicken bits behind for the cat. Can't say I blame him, as it has been an offal few weeks, in many ways  — just wait til my upcoming post on making head cheese.

And yet, when a box arrived today from Charlotte, the Ethicurean's correspondent in Montana and author of the Living Small blog, containing homemade moose liver paté, we were still game to try it.

Charlotte's note said it could use "some smushing around once opened" and this was indeed true. I hope Charlotte will not be offended if I admit to some trepidation, having read the post in which she called moose liver "horrifying." The paté may have born an unfortunate resemblance to catfood, but as the Potato said, "Hey this moose mousse is good!" It had a strong savory kick — you could taste the garlic and the piment d'espelette.  (Thanks, Charlotte!)

She included the paté in the box containing the several signed copies I was buying of her novel "Place Last Seen" to give as gifts: I read it in October in one white-knuckled sitting from 11 pm to 2 a.m. while visiting Oregon. As you learn within the first two sentences, it's about a couple who lose their 6-year-old daughter with Down's syndrome on a hiking trip in the wilderness — and it is a tour de force of suspense and despair, with a huge cast of well-drawn, complex characters. I highly recommend it.

We kept all of the delivery folks busy today: in addition to a huge box of delicious pecan concoctions my grandmother sent, made locally in her hometown of Pensacola, Fla., I got a wonderful belated birthday "un"-present from my aunt. While in Oregon I was excited to see that the Fisher Price farm set I had loved as a child had somehow been passed down intact through the generations to my youngest cousin, age 3. I must have clutched it a bit too covetuously, because look, she has returned it to me! Minus the pig, which she promises she's still looking for. (He's my favorite.) I immediately had to set it up and play with it.

And yes, it's the same set immortalized in the stop-motion animations in "King Corn."  Chances are good it will be a regular guest on this blog.

Comments