Whenever I’m asked whether I love liver, I can’t answer with a straight face. For one, I tolerate liver to the point that I allow myself to eat it once in a while. Sometimes I even miss it. But I’ve been living my life without it and that’s fine too. The first time I ever tasted liver was when I was still a kid. My Dad used to cook an Asian dish that involved cooking chicken liver in vinegar and soy sauce. I actually kind of loved it. It tasted quite good with rice. However, when Dad cooked pork liver, I hated it.
I remember Arthur, a former colleague of mine. He loves liver as much as I love cheese. Every week, he brought some kind of liver dish to the office just to prove to us that it’s not impossible to love them. He hadn’t succeeded in converting any of us until Marian came. She was the new receptionist. She was the only one who tasted Arthur’s “creation” of liver with onions and fell in love with it. Since then, they’ve been sharing lunches with each other. The last I heard, they have two kids. Who would have thought that Arthur would find the love of his life because he’s a liver lover? Definitely not me.
Photo and recipe courtesy of The Southern Lady Cooks.
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