Sunday, March 18, 2012

Chopped Liver

Liver is ... well, let's just say it's not one of my favorite things.  The smell .. the taste ... it's pretty much repugnant to me.  To others, though, it's a delicacy.  A rare & wonderful treat.

A busy week, it was.  Jammed packed with meetings, activities, projects, work ...

Slice and dice.  Chop. Chop.

And it was a very good week!  Productive and full of new opportunities.

Grind. Grind. 

The week ended with plans to hang out with some friends ... with no objective ...
other than fun!

Sautee in schmaltz.

The perfect recipe for chopped liver.

Chopped liver is an interesting combination of ingredients.  Mixed together to create a unique taste.  No two batches are ever quite the same. 

Snobs call it ... pate'

Truth is ... chopped liver ... by any other name ... is still  ... chopped liver.

There are even recipes for "mock" chopped liver ... made from peas, eggplant, string beans, mushrooms.  But they are merely substitutes ... for the real deal.

Funny, isn't it?  People trying to make chopped liver ... into something that it's not.  Something that is more appealing to the masses, perhaps.  Instead of simply accepting that ... pate' ... isn't for everyone. 

A taste for it requires a discerning palate.  Like maybe, one in ten million ... really and truly ... like ... chopped liver.

Jessi had sent me a message on Thursday letting me know that "another t.v. dinner" wasn't really making her happy.   So I was looking forward to the weekend ... and to some Jessi-time.

With an impatient sigh, she informed me, "I'm busy this weekend, Mom.  I have PLANS!" 

And, truth was, she did.  A bowling banquet.  An early St. Patrick's dance.  Church.  Lunch with friends.  And some quality time with Donald.

Reality check.  She doesn't really "need" me anymore.  Her life is full and complete.  She just misses me when we're both busy for a number of days ... and we don't find time to connect. 

She's ALL GROWN UP now ... that's what she tells me.

And I am ... chopped liver.

It wasn't just that, though.  There were other things thrown into the mix.  Adding a little spice.  A little flavor.  For good measure. 

Most likely I was just tired ... when the reality of it all revealed itself.  It's not very often that feeling "unnecessary" gets to me.  I am pretty good at remembering that all of the hand-holding, lifting up, reaching out is sincerely appreciated ... even though not always acknowledged.

And, chopped liver isn't always appreciated either.  Hence the Jewish English phrase,
"So what am I, chopped liver?!?!"  It's an expression of frustration of being ignored on some social level.

That's what Wikipedia says.  An apt description of my feelings. It was also noted that chopped liver is rarely served as a main course ... generally it's a "side dish".  And that's how the "overlooked" meaning came into play ...

... a side dish ... quite possibly the most interesting offering on the table ... but never the center of attention.

BINGO!  

It is somewhat reassuring that, as usual, I was totally accurate ... and in context ... with my turn of phrase.  Interesting, though, that so many of my friends tried to take it ... and make it into something silly ... and dramatic ... and obsequious.

Traditionally, the liver & all of the other ingredients are sauteed in schmaltz.  That intrigued me.  "Schmaltz" was a phrase I had heard tossed around from time to time ... but had never really given a look-see.

Seems that schmaltz is rendered chicken, goose or pork fat.  The picture looks a lot like the lard that we used to pack around the sausage when Uncle Bill was alive.  The word ... and the image ... remind me of lessons learned there on the farm.  Somehow it seems to fit.

Here I am ... a week past the overlooked ... under-appreciated ... feeling.  Trying to clarify my chopped liver ...

Imagine my surprise when I discovered that "falling into the schmaltz pot" ... which is one way of describing the process for preparing truly delicious chopped liver ... traditionally refers to the concept of having something good happen to you.  Being smaltzy means that good things are often happening to you.

The smile was spontaneous ...  as the room filled with the sound of my best friend's laughter.  He so loves it when He sets me up ... for a good joke on me ... catching me offguard ... as He delivers the punchline.

Center-of-the-plate has never really been my style.  And I am content to be the most interesting ... rather than the most noticed. 

Good things are happening. 

Chopped liver.  Guess there a worse things I could be.

www.lifelessons-mj.blogspot.com
(c) March 2012