I've recently come to the conclusion that has formed itself into today's blog title. A few weeks ago, my cousin David graduated from Georgia Tech (with highest honors, even) and we went to 5 Seasons Brewing for his graduation lunch. The special of the day was panko fried duck livers. Now, if you know me, or have read much of this blog, you know that I have an adventurous palate. For example, I got to a party this weekend a couple of hours early so I ended up walking into some strange Christian taqueria in Chattanooga, Tenn., while waiting for a more appropriate time to show up and ordered the beef tongue taco and the nopal asada (blackened cactus) taco. I was actually pissed off a little when they brought out the tongue and chicken asada instead. I'm quick to try new things and will never turn down a food that isn't poisonous or catfish stew (and I'm not sure that catfish stew that one time wasn't poisonous.)
There's just one catch. When I'm spending my own money I don't always take the new over the tried and true, except when I'm ordering beer. It's my own private shame. Some men wear their wive's underwear while vacuuming in time to Kylie Minogue dance remixes when they're alone. Others watch child porn in the dark, smelly confines of their homes. I don't always try something new when ordering in a restaurant. I'm just lucky that the world is run by culinary cowards or I'd be locked up with the pedophiles of the world. But for some reason I was in an experimental mood the day of David's graduation and took a chance on the duck livers. I like duck, but I don't like liver, so I had a 50/50 chance with the dish. Besides, David Larkworthy, 5 Seasons' co-owner and chef, is a great cook, so I trusted him on this one. Besides, they were served with a rather sizable side of spaetzle, which I love, so at least I'd end the meal full even if I hated the livers.
Luckily, I guessed right and really enjoyed the duck livers. They were really a treat and something I'd eat on a regular basis it turned out. That experience emboldened me today when K's parents took us out to eat at the Blue Willow Inn in Social Circle, Ga., where they had fried chicken livers on the buffet. The dark little nuggets were a little dry from either an original overcooking or their time under the lights, but the flavor was good. Apparently birds were created by God above for their edible internal organs. I'd never realize that before today. I'd just assumed that ducks were fucking awesome. Because, really, ducks are fucking awesome.
The weird thing is that I'm not really that fond of calf's liver. K loves the stuff, but there's a funk to the hunk of meat that I find unpleasant. Despite her perfect pleasure in chowing down on the toxin-cleansing organ of a baby cow, she refused to try my chicken liver today, which is much less funky. Her loss.
Actually, it really is odd that I've never had chicken livers in my life. I grew up in a town where all of the local fry shops have gizzards and livers platters. I'd never had either until today and I've still never had a gizzard. I think I may have to hit up Omar's Chick King tomorrow and order the livers and gizzards plate after all. I'm sure it wouldn't take that long to work off a giant plate of nothing but fried foods. It's just redneck health food.