Plummelo

Tim and I spent a good chunk of December at the Hinman homestead, first for a family funeral and then for Christmas. For me, it was both a time to mourn and a time to celebrate, a time to reflect back on more than three decades of gifts from a special person who shaped me in ways I continue to discover. It was also a time to shake up traditions a bit in anticipation of the changes our family would surely feel, beginning with Dad’s birthday, a.k.a. Christmas Eve. Enter: chicken livers.

Dad’s a fairly complex guy, but simplicity reigns on his dinner plate. For the last eight years or so Mom and I have tag-teamed on the meal: shrimp cocktail and cheese plates to start, then filet of beef, mashed red potatoes, carrots and green beans, followed by chocolate sour cream cake.

I like that Mom and I have found subtle ways to refine these rustic delights. A couple years ago we adopted a high-heat roasting method for the beef which my friend Karen Tedesco taught us; it yields the pinkest, juiciest slab of meat you can imagine. Our carrots are caramelized with butter, cumin and honey, a recipe from one of my French cooking mentors, Paule Caillat. My youngest sister makes the cake–it was Mom’s mom’s recipe–and it comes out perfectly moist every year, but at Dad’s request, buttercream frosting has replaced the outdated Crisco-based blend that Grandma used to use. Old standards infused with modern influences.

So what changed this year? For one thing, our friend Sandra dropped off a decadent dish of butternut squash with pecans and blue cheese, which is going to have to be added to the repertoire. And, I decided to add a chicken liver “mousse” appetizer to the mix. As I put it together Christmas Eve morning, nearly every member of the family hovered at some point with the same question: “What the heck?”

Almost ten years ago, the family went to town on gorgeous medallions of beef tenderloin topped with thick slices of foie gras while visiting my cooking class in Paris. But I didn’t actually reveal that the taupe pillows of deliciousness atop the beef consisted of fatty goose liver until everyone was a couple bites into the dish. That way no one would put down their fork before being seduced by the deceptive innard.

Chicken liver is a respectable (and super affordable) stand-in for foie gras, but it does have a rougher ring to it. So, to be safe, I decided to hold my tongue throughout the prep. They would all just have to wait and taste.

That night, I put out the “mousse”–it’s really more like a pâté–and took a step back from the hors d’oeuvre table as everyone stared. Finally, Tim acted as if he would take one for the team (he loves the stuff) and went first. Ever the good sport, my brother-in-law jumped in next. My sisters scrunched up their noses but relented after judging from the boys’ reactions that they were missing out. Mom and her sister, intrepid eaters both, dug right in.

And Dad? I’ll give the guy credit. He plunged a toast point right into the dish without even asking what I was putting him up to. He went back for a second, and a third, and while I should have been happy with that response, I had to ask what he thought. “Not something I would order,” he said. “But it’s good.” From a man of few words, those ten syllables rang just right to my ears.

I know Tim hoped for huge amounts of leftovers that he could nosh on the following day, but by the time we sat down for dinner there were only a few bites of chicken liver mousse left. (Phew!) Tim surprised me then with another break from tradition that was, frankly, much more fitting: he raised a glass to his father-in-law to thank him for the meal, and so much more.

Read more by Kristen Hinman

Kristen Hinman writes the column Swine Dining: A City Girl Cooks Country. She used to think the perfect weeknight dinner consisted of an omelette and a glass of wine. OK, she still does. Her husband, on the other hand? Not so much. Luckily, three years of recreational cooking school in Paris and a vast cookbook collection mean she’s never at a loss for ideas. Kristen is a journalist who has lingered in celebrity chefs’ kitchens, nosed over midwestern caviar houses and taken pigs to slaughter–all on the clock. She lives in St. Louis and Washington D.C. and is the winner of two James Beard Foundation Awards for newspaper writing. One day she will wallpaper her pantry with Gourmet magazine covers. Visit Kristen’s website. Photo by Michelle Hudgins.