Kvetch

 

Kvetch

kvetch [kveCH, kəˈveCH]:

1. Noun: a person who complains a great deal.

2. Verb: complain persistently.

When I first thought of writing a blog, my inspiration was the decline of customer service and all the annoyances connected to technology. The blog would be: The Weekly Kvetch.

Although, known as a world class kvetch, even I couldn’t come up with a complaint per week. However, today I have three. They all involve a birthday dinner to which I had been looking forward. Really dear friends were taking me to an upscale steak house in Santa Clara. What could be bad?!

Let’s begin with the cocktail. It’s rare that I indulge in a gin martini on the rocks – I knew they had my favorite gin – St. Georges, distilled in Alameda California, so I indulged. The drink came in a normal sized on the rocks glass in which a golf ball size globe of ice was placed, taking up room where gin should be. This is trendy, but does it make the cocktail more enjoyable? Only if the drinker enjoys the ice ball hitting her lip with every sip. There will be no savoring the last traces of the drink – it’s gone, leaving only the ice orb. Hmm….not only is this drink not a generous pour, but it appears that a second drink is in order. Not subtle! I figured it out and I’m not a Mensa member.

On to the entree - I understand that ordering a baked potato is not the epitome of sophistication, however it’s also a rare indulgence for me. All that butter and sour cream – not what you do – it comes that way! Does it? Not here. The potato came undressed except for the aluminum foil wrapping! Ye gods, this isn’t baked – it’s steamed. No fluffy potato with with a crispy skin. Only a waxy, room temperature, uninspired steamed potato.

Is this another way of pleasing the customer? I unwrapped the spud and put on the butter and sour cream feeling guilt that would have been avoided had the potato come this way. In a restaurant where the entrees start at $49, one would expect more.

Our party consisted of three people one of whom is a speed eater and the other two normal (we think we’re normal) eaters. The waiter sees the speed eater is finished and whisks his plate away. How does this make us feel? Not good and also rushed. I guess that’s the point. Another practice that doesn’t make the customers’ experience grand.

That being said, the highlights of the evening were the company and the appetizers. I’m attaching my friend, JP’s recipe for chicken liver mousse. This is particularly delicious served on crostini.

Chicken Liver Mousse

• 1 pound of fresh chicken livers

• 1 onion, chopped

• 2 sprigs thyme, plucked and finely chopped

• 3 tablespoons butter, divided

• 1/4 cup brandy

• 1/2 cup heavy whipping cream

• salt and pepper

Heat 2 tablespoons butter over medium heat in a skillet and cook the onions, seasoned with salt, stirring occasionally until golden and tender (about 10 minutes). Add the thyme and toss with the onions until fragrant. Add the brandy and deglaze the pan, stirring until most of the liquid had reduced. Remove to a bowl.

In the same pan, over medium-high heat, melt the remaining butter and cook the livers. Toss them around in the pan until they've stiffened and are uniformly dark on the outside but are still pink inside (about 3-4 minutes). Remove from heat.

Combine the livers and the onion mixture in a blender or food processor and puree until smooth. Meanwhile, in a clean, non-reactive bowl, whip the cream until it forms peaks. Gently fold the liver puree into the whipped cream, adding a grind or two of fresh black pepper if you'd like.

Transfer the mousse to several ramekins, mason jars, or any small serving dish you'd like, cover and refrigerate until completely chilled and set.

Before serving, remove the mousse from the refrigerator and allow to warm to room temperature if you can wait that long. Serve with crusty bread and a perhaps a bit of whole grain mustard on the side.

Henry’s comment: I’m down with the mousse!