Fatty Goose Liver Mousse

Dear Michelle,

Home for the holidays for two and a half weeks and snowed in for much of that time, I did quite a bit of cooking when I was home. I love visiting my parents, not least (but not most!) because of my mother's kitchen. It is large, with so much counter space, an incredible view, and appliances I recall with longing when I get back to New York. Even better, I am indulged in the ingredients available to me. When in Whole Foods once with Jeff and my mother, Jeff said that he'd never seen me so greedy before than when grocery shopping with her. I must admit that he's right, but luckily my mother puts up with it in good humor.

I'd been working on my father for a while to order some foie gras for the holiday. I spent some time researching, found an ethical alternative, and harassed him until he ordered it in time for Christmas. I guess ethical foie gras itself technically doesn't exist, though I've heard that Hudson Valley Foie Gras is supposed to be about as close as one can get. However, I found a company that raises geese that naturally gorge as the days shorten. The resulting livers are not as large, nor as rich, as a foie gras, but they are larger, and richer, than normal goose livers.

My favorite foie gras preparation is the simplest; I like it sliced and sauteed, served with some sort of compote and sliced bread. That's how we first tried the livers. They weren't bad, exactly, but nobody was clamoring for more. I think my father finished my mother's.

For the next few days, I searched my mother's extensive cookbook collection for a terrine, a mousse, or a pate that looked like a good destination for the rest of the livers. Finally I settled on Julia Child's chicken liver mousse from The Art of French Cooking V. 1. I love about foie gras that eating it feels like such an indulgence. It's not the price or the rarity, but the way it melts in your mouth, the overwhelming richness of it. This is what was lacking in the livers; sure, they were richer than a normal goose liver, but they were nothing to the tender creaminess of a true foie gras. A mousse, however, adds butter and cream, along with some flavorings, to the meat.

With hope in my heart, I dutifully chopped, sauteed, and food processed, tasted and strained. It was underwhelming, a little bitter and gritty in texture, so with a resigned sigh I packed it into a loaf pan and put it in the refrigerator. We were saving it for when I particular friend of the family came over for dinner, so it sat in the fridge for a couple of days before I tasted it. I was shocked when I finally did; beyond being just acceptable, it was good. Really, really good. We ate the whole thing in about 3 days, for lunch, for dinner, even for breakfast (on toast topped with a fried egg, yum). Even my mother liked it. Which is to say, she actively liked it. My father and I dove in with a remarkable lack of restraint. Overindulgence, at last!

The finished product is rich, but not too rich; flavorful but creamy; light enough for an appetizer, but substantial enough to be part of a meal (say, with salad). It's not cheap, about $60 including shipping for 2 lbs of livers, but I think we worked out that we got 15-20 servings out of it, which is not a bad price per serving.



Fatty Goose Liver Mousse
adapted from The Art of French Cooking V. 1, pg 559

1.5 Lbs Late Harvest Fatty Goose livers
3T minced shallot
3T unsalted butter

1/3 c madeira, or another sweet wine (or cognac)

1/4 c whipping cream
3/4t salt
generous 1/8t ground allspice
generous 1/8t ground pepper
pinch of thyme or herbes do provence

1/2 - 3/4 c butter



Clean livers, removing any greenish or blackish spots. Cut into 1/2-inch pieces.
Saute shallots with butter in hot skillet until just soft. Add livers and saute until just barely contracting, but still pink inside.


Scrape into a food processor or blender.
Pour alcohol into skillet and boil down rapidly until reduced to about 5T, then add to food processor/blender.
Add cream and seasonings to said blending device, then blend until liver is a smooth paste. Add butter and process till melted and creamy. (Julia calls for melted butter, but I used room temperature. ) Taste and add more butter if not creamy enough.
Force mixture through fine sieve, and taste for seasoning. (Mine did not taste all that great at this point; it was a little bitter.


Pack into one or more serving vessels, or a loaf pan. If you want to get fancy, make an aspic and line a loaf pan or mold with it, the whole thing to be turned out. If you are likely to do this, I bet you probably have the cookbooks necessary to tell you how. Refrigerate. This one sat for three days before we ate it; should probably be eaten in about three days, too.

Serve with toast, jam or preserves (we used fig), and salad. Spread on toast and top with an egg for breakfast. Also good with a vegetable puree soup.