Cover of Mia Farrow
Had lunch at the 'Loon' in Pelham this week with a few old friends.
It was the first time I'd been in since they reopened after a few renovations earlier this winter.
Rest assured it is still as homey as ever, the staff is as friendly and the lunches are as filling.
The problem is that they've changed their menu.
They have 'Liver and Onions' listed under 'Comfort Foods'.
Since when, I ask you, has liver been a comfort food?
Peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwiches, pizza, pancakes and maple syrup, cheese cake and chocolate bars - these are Canadian comfort foods.
Liver is something you eat when you are seven years old because your parents make you eat it - for the iron.
Personally I'd rather chew the fender of the spy car.
I tell you there is something diabolical about a society that considers eating liver a comfort.
For example I suspect the next Conservative Party attack ad will tell us:
He Came Back For Your Liver!
And remember Mia Farrow in Rosemary's Baby?
How comfortable did she look with her insatiable craving to devour raw liver after having been impregnated by Satan himself?
Anyway, I cook liver because I am my elderly father's caregiver and he loves the stuff.
But I just can't figure out why it is called 'liver'.
Because, truthfully, there is nothing deader looking than that particular organ when it is oozing and clotting in your frying pan.
On the other hand I guess I should be thankful that he doesn't yearn for the famous old Scottish comfort food so beloved by my grandmother McPherson.
It was called 'Potted Head'.
And don't ask.
You don't want to know.
It makles liver look,