Chicken Liver Crostini

My friend Therese noticed that I shared her enthusiasm for David Tanis' A Platter of Figs, and came up with a smart idea. Why not share our excitement and efforts with friends? Have a Tanis potluck of sorts, focusing on one or two of the seasonal menus in his book.

Last Saturday night, after several months of emailing back and forth, seven of us, pots, bowls, and bottles in hand, showed up at Therese's home to feast together.

And feast, we did! I personally am racked with guilt over how much delicious food we ate. And for me, this was after an orgy of food the night before at Mozza's five course tasting of food from the Veneto (much more on this later, I promise!).

We gorged on Fish Soup with Mussels and Chorizo, Green Lasagne with Greens, Roasted Pepper Salad, and a sprightly green salad. And then finished up with not one, but two desserts -- Panna Cotta, and Italian Plum Cake. Everything was aptly executed, so the eating was very good, indeed.

And with a gang of teachers, poets, lexicographers, and curators -- foodies all --the conversation was lively and compelling. It looks like this may very well become a quarterly celebration for us.

To start, most of us enjoyed the rustic chicken liver crostini that I whipped up for the occasion. The exceptions being the one vegetarian and my liver-and-fowl-phobic husband, who could barely even glance at the dish, let alone dignify it with a taste.

In the end, it was his loss, because the flavor of the chicken liver was excellent. Tanis' recipe calls for either duck or chicken livers. I started out looking for duck livers, but when this became too much of a challenge, I switched to Jidori chicken livers from McCall's Meat & Fish Co. in Los Feliz. You shouldn't feel sheepish about using chicken. They tasted great.

This paté is not a refined, ultra-creamy, liver mousse filled with loads of heavy cream and butter. When I say rustic, I mean it. The texture is coarse and very country, due to the fact that there is no puréeing. The livers are hand chopped and then butter is mashed into them.

My initial reaction to this paté, was to put it down as too crude. In revisiting it at the party with a glass of Prosecco, and even the following morning, I definitely developed an appreciation for this humble liver preparation.

I do have deeper longings for a luxurious mousse with some cognac and perhaps more complexity of flavor, but this is an hors d'oeuvre that is good to know. The thyme, pancetta, and shallot assure a good flavor profile, and this is really quite simple to execute. Even the least experienced cook should have no qualms tackling this.

Tanis suggests toasting slices of baguette. I prefer slicing the baguette on the bias and very lightly brushing the slices on both sides with olive oil and then baking them in the oven at 400 degrees. The crostini seem to keep better that way.

In his fall menu, Another Early Autumn, Tanis serves the duck liver crostini with a roast Double Duck Breast with Baked Figs. My guess is that serving these all together would be a lesson in decadence that I would be very pleased to learn.

I hope to give the duck breasts a go, as soon as I can get A. out of the country.

Chicken (or Duck) Liver Toasts

1 1/2 pounds chicken (or duck) livers

Salt and pepper

2 tablespoons olive oil

2 slices pancetta, in small slivers

2 large shallots, finely diced

2 teaspoons chopped thyme

A splash of dry sherry or sherry vinegar (I used the vinegar)

4 tablespoons butter, softened

1 baguette, sliced and toasted

Trim the livers of any connective tissue or fat, and blot them dry on paper towels. Season with salt and pepper. Heat the olive oil in a large pan over medium heat. When hot, add the pancetta and shallots and cook until browned.

Raise the heat to high and add the livers. Stir and continue cooking. Shake the pan every so often. Cook until the livers are still pink in the center. Add the thyme and sherry, and turn the contents of the pan out onto a large cutting board. Let cool.

Chop the liver mixture into a rough paste. Transfer the paste to a bowl and smash in the butter with a wooden spoon. Taste for salt and pepper. Cover tightly with plastic. Serve at room temperature.

Serves 8

Tomato and Ricotta Toasts

I spend so much time thinking about what to prepare for dinner that lunch all but falls by the wayside. During the week when it's just Fe and me, it doesn't matter so much.

On the weekends when A. is around, I should be trying harder. There is an art to making a lovely lunch, and I need to master it. Running out to the nearest taco shop becomes a sorry excuse for lunching after a while.

I think I was on the right track on Saturday. I stepped back and assessed what I had on hand -- lots of beautifully ripe tomatoes, a giant whole-grain demi-miche, a tub of ricotta, herbs growing in the garden, a handful of shallots, a small basket of garlic and a container of micro-greens from the C.S.A. Clearly the makings of something good.

I perused the summer section of David Tanis' A Platter of Figs and bumped into the perfect inspiration for what I had on hand -- Cherry Tomato Crostini with Ricotta. No, I didn't have cherry tomatoes and there was nary a loaf of ciabatta in sight, but with a little tweaking on my part a lovely summertime lunch was within reach.

I used about five medium-sized tomatoes. Halved cherry tomatoes will make for a perkier and much neater presentation. I will likely prepare this recipe again tonight with yellow pear tomatoes, as something to tear into with drinks. But if there are no tiny tomatoes on hand, I wouldn't hesitate to make this anyway.

You're basically making little toasts -- crostini or bruschetta. I'm calling them toasts, because of their complete lack of consistent shape.

Very rustic.

I laughingly love that term. It dresses up anything that is a bit of a mess!

So as I said, no ciabatta. That shouldn't stop you. Any baguette, country boule, or substantial loaf would work fine. Use what's on hand! Just hack it into slices or wedges that are about a half inch thick. They need a little girth to support the fresh ricotta and tomatoes.

The sweetness of the tomatoes and the creaminess of the ricotta are punctuated by a serious kick from the raw garlic and shallots. The bite is no joke, and will likely be with you most of the day, but it provides a pleasing contrast. Throw in the basil and these toasts taste just like summer.

Of course, macerating the shallots in red wine vinegar does take the edge off a little bit. In fact next time I make this, I will cool my heels a bit longer than my impatience allowed for this time, and let the shallots sit for about ten to fifteen minutes.

So that you can learn from my mistakes -- a bit of advice. When making crostini, bruschetta, or toasts, please use a timer. If you are at all distracted like I am, you may be making two or three batches before you are ready to eat. When the bread is turning golden, you have very few moments before it turns black!

I know you know this. So do I.

That doesn't always help! A timer does.

If you use the timer and avoid remaking the toasts, this is quick work. You make a vinaigrette, pound some garlic, fold in the tomatoes, and make toast. When the toast is golden brown, you lightly rub it with garlic, and slather on the (hopefully excellent quality) ricotta. Sprinkle a little salt and red pepper over that, and mound the tomato mixture on top. A sprinkling of basil chiffonade is all that's left to do.

Cherry Tomato Crostini with Ricotta

1 large shallot, finely diced

2 tablespoons red wine vinegar

Salt and pepper

1/2 cup olive oil

2 garlic cloves, smashed to a paste with a little salt, plus another peeled garlic clove or two

2 pounds cherry tomatoes, halved

1 loaf Italian ciabatta

1/2 pound fresh ricotta

1 teaspoon red pepper flakes

A handful of basil leaves

Macerate the shallot with a little salt in the red wine vinegar. Whisk in the olive oil. Add the garlic paste and the tomatoes. Season with salt and pepper and mix. Let marinate for a few minutes.

Cut the bread into 1/2-inch slices. Toast the bread on both sides until golden under the broiler. Rub the toasts lightly with the garlic clove. Just gently, there is already plenty of garlic present.

Slather on a tablespoon of ricotta per toast, and set on a platter. Sprinkle with a little salt and red pepper. Spoon the tomatoes over. Sliver the basil and strew about the toasts.