Saturday, June 14, 2014

fried liver

Liver is not for everyone, and I certainly thought it wasn't for me, as nearly each time I have had it in the past, I would succumb to a violent body shudder and reach for something in the way of a cola to burn the aftertaste away. But we were in Edirne, and the local specialty is fried calf's liver, and though I get queasy about eating baby animals, I thought I would give it a try.

We had reached the blue hour, and we were hungry. Wandering through the crooked streets near our hotel, we came across a long line of other hungry people, who were waiting for a seat at a ciğer salonu (literally, liver salon) called Aydın. I supposed that if I was going to put myself through another possibly horrible liver experience, I should do it at a place where people are willing to wait half an hour for their liver.

Waiters and a man in a pristine white shirt were buzzing around, serving patrons and barking orders at each other with impressive determination and speed, that it wasn't long before we were seated. In a matter of minutes, a basket of bunny bread and a plate of chopped onions and tomatoes was placed on our table along with a plate of what looked to be deep-fried dried hot peppers. Curious about these peppers, I bit off the end of one of them only to set my mouth on fire— but soon, the tava ciğer arrived, and I forgot about the burning.

The liver was thinly shaved and battered, delightfully crispy on the outside and creamy on the inside— only the tiniest hint of the liver taste that I dreaded hit my tongue. It was delicious. I couldn't believe it, I liked liver! In fact, I liked it so much, that the next day I had it again elsewhere.

I actually found myself craving fried liver the other day, and wondered how silly I would be for making a two hour drive for a plate of it. Maybe an excuse like the upcoming oil wrestling festival would be a valid reason for that drive...

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