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The latest episode of my podcast “Cooking the Books” just dropped and it’s a good one! We’re talking literature’s most charming and horrendous psychiatrist and his fetish for organ meat, discussing the book – and film – that made him a household name, and I share a great method for chicken-liver crostini, so give it a listen at:
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…num. 4, in the unpleasantness: Ikea (for a heterosexual guy). Yeah, the book thing in a move is sort of cute… it starts in a sort of order, each well placed in the box, then the next, following their place in your library, then a little mixing as the hours pass to the next day, and by the end they’re just shoved in, box after box, heave and go, ‘how many fricking books do…’, you wish you could use the larger boxes but you’ve already learned that filing up one of those with bounded paper is too heavy even for an average-sized African rhino to move, s the next and the next. when the movers come, even they’re impressed with the number of small, heavy boxes that will be brought into the truck… Skin. We’ve done that awhile. In public, in the European middle ages as punishment for some unlucky thieves, the skins often left as a warning. Ah, don’t hate me but.. I preferred Manhunter, the first, to lambs. For the ‘organ meat’, never actually heard it that way (as you likely suppose, I am a hearty fan of such in their many forms.) For the crostini… if you’ve never used turkey (heart and liver) … with or without the chianti (which, actually, would imply cannellini instead of fava. But chianti sounds betters than… aglianico…)
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Moving boxes full of books is horrendous, but I can’t part with many of them so I deal with it. This will be the LAST time I ever move, well, until I either get moved into a nursing home or moved out for cremation. 🙂 As far as skin goes, I always think of San Bartolomeo, who was flayed alive and who is always portrayed holding his skin. Gruesome stuff, but that’s what a Catholic education will do to you. I don’t hate you for liking Manhunter. I enjoyed it too, but the development of Lecter really shines in this book so it’s a favorite. I’m a sucker for protagonists who are bad but who we also can’t help liking. The chicken liver crostini was something I actually had in Florence, though I doubt it had fava beans, but I do remember the flavor of sage in it, so that was another reason I used it here.
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