Sometime in the late 70s, the first time Carolyn and I went to the legendary Le Francais restaurant in Wheeling, we started with the pate platter, a mega-caloric belly bomb of duck, pork, chicken and other pates. In the French tradition, pates are the livers (usually of birds: chicken, duck, goose) chopped (campagne) or whipped (mousse), along with some subtle spices and frequently a liquor, like cognac or brandy. We loved the pates crafted by Le Francais founding chef/owner Jean Banchet, and we ate all of it (conservative estimate: 8,000 calories). However, as with other dinners at this restaurant (which before Charlie Trotter’s put our region on the international culinary map), we felt a bit queasy (we probably should not have followed the massive blast of pate with lobster bisque and salmon mousse en croute).
We’ve made pate at home using Julia as my guide, and I like pate quite a lot. It’s earthy, slightly funky, and delicious with crunchy French bread, a green salad, and a good, medium-to-full bodied red wine.
Recently, Les Trois Petits Cochons sent me about a pound of pate, two quarter-pound containers of pate campagne and two of mousse. I gave half the shipment to our next door neighbors, the Millers, and asked that their daughter Anna jot down her comments.
Anna had previously penned a piece on this blog about an American Girl novel that dealt with food, so I knew she was up for the challenge. Anna and her sister, Esther, tried pate. Here’s how Anna responded to the experience:
I’m considered adventurous eater. I’ve tried many foods such as raw oysters and squid, so when my neighbor David (a food critic) asked me to write an article on pate, I said yes.
Pate is a paste typically comprised of cooked goose or duck liver and fat with herbs or other seasonings mixed in. It is often eaten with dried fruits. Some also think it’s good when paired with nuts or cheeses. Some even pair it with combinations of sweet and salty or sour and savory. For our tasting experiment, we tried pate with all kinds of flavors.
Since I’ve never had pate before, my first taste was a surprise. The pork pate (pate campagne) was slightly sour and much more textured. With a chocolate covered cherry, the flavor of the pate was reduced slightly and replaced by chocolatey sweetness. Plain, however, this pate was another story. Tasting of raw chicken and tuna (mixed they taste worse than they sound), this pate was definitely not my cup of tea.
The slightly creamy pate, the mousse with truffles, wasn’t very good either. Tasting of poultry with way too much rosemary, the mousse with truffles was definitely not #1. Unlike the pork, with the cherry, the mousse and truffles and the cherry was actually quite good. However, with some bread and a pickle, I didn’t taste the pate at all.
Now, from another perspective, (given by Esther, my sister) you would hear that pate is equal to cat food. Don’t ask me why. It’s her choice. She thinks it tastes like tuna and apparently she doesn’t like “tunay” foods. Again, it’s not my fault. Altogether, I don’t think anyone really loved the pate that night. Frankly, I found pate to be disgusting. Maybe I’ll try it with ketchup next time. Who knows?
Okay, so Anna and I disagree on the deliciousness – and edibility – of pate, though I’m encouraged by the fact that she will try it again, even with ketchup (a maligned condiment that I think deserves much more credit than it usually receives). We do both agree, though, that a chocolate-covered cherry can improve many eating experiences.
I enjoyed the smoother pate (mousse) a little more than the rougher cut (campagne) pate, because it spreads easier and with pate’s relatively distinct flavor, you want to spread it thin. I wouldn’t argue with Anna about using ketchup on her pate, of course, though I find the acidity of mustard perfectly balances the richness of the pate, so that’s what I’d use as a condiment.
The rougher cut pate (campagne) was almost like loose sausage, and this pate had personality enough to eat on a sandwich. I cut some slices of it onto French bread, added some slivered carrots, cilantro and jalapenos, and made simple, satisfying bahn mi.
My comfort level with liver is probably enhanced by early childhood experiences eating beef liver (which I don’t believe is a common family food item any longer) and Oscar Meyer braunschweiger, a low-end liver sausage that bears about as much resemblance to Les Trois Petits Cochons pate as Arby’s corned beef does to Manny’s.