Somethings in life fall into the never again category.  When summer is beating down, the mosquitos are ramping up, and the relentless winds are blowing away your resiliency, one being to ponder if fall is never again going to come.  This pondering always leads to the whys.  Why does anyone voluntarily live here?  Why did I move back again?  Why do I live here now?  Why, why, why? But just as you are debating the ramifications of moving away to never again return to the dreaded existence of summer coastal life, fall arrives.  Texas Fall is the best.  The weather cools off just enough a jacket or long sleeve shirt is not needed. It is cool in the am and evening and still warm all day long.

With the return of fall, comes the return of happy humans.  This fall with all the added rain, wildlife has made a giant return.  Every time the front window is opened on the Rainstream there is a green tree frog.  Every time a mud boot is pulled from it resting post there is a pill bug or other creepy legged insect. The bullfrogs croak in every standing puddle of water. The unseen crickets sing morning, noon, and night.  The last of the hummingbirds buzz by.  So yes, it seems even the wildlife are happy at the return of fall.

With the rain still holding out for over a week now, the Kid and I take every opportunity to take evening bike rides.  All summer long you look longingly at your bike and think the time will never again come where you can ride your bike longer than ten minutes without dying of dehydration and heat exhaustion.  Oh, lovely bike will I never again be able to ride with you?  But then fall arrives.  As you can see, with a Texas Fall it is still warm enough to work up a sweat.  This kid who drinks as much water as it takes to subsidize a small succulent drained this 20oz bottle of cold water.  I offered to drop him in the bay for a quick cool down but he didn’t want soggy bottoms for his 4 mile trip home.  Good thinking that kid.

As you sit in the evenings pondering the cooler weather and planning all the warm dinner meals that you thought you could never again eat, it happens, a blue northern.  Bam! Out of the north without any warning the wind howls, the trees protest, and temps drop fifteen – twenty degrees in a few short hours.  Hot dog! More tasty, heartwarming, soul-filling, winter meals ahead this week.

Or not. NEVER AGAIN will this dish be made in my presence.  It all started so innocently.  The Planner wanted a tried true (and reviewed) tasty New Orleans dish of Dirty Rice made simply with the holy trinity (onions, peppers, celery) with ground pork and chicken livers.  I make a poor mans version of Dirty Rice all the time with just ground pork, rice, and Cajun seasoning.  It must be good as there are never left overs.  The real deal he said.

Chicken livers are not for human consumption! I repeat, NOT for consumption.  At least not when I make them, anyways.  Chicken livers did not smell gamey as I was expecting them too. But they did feel gamey.  What does gamey feel like you ask?  Oh, let me describe it to you.  Dog grass yak.  Cat horked up full balls.  Cold sticky spaghetti with chunky sauce. Grainy not fully scrambled scrambled eggs. No wait, that is what it feels like after it has been cut up into strips.  When the liver is first pulled out of the container it feels like a soggy chicken fried steak drenched in curdled milk slime.  Yeah, chicken liver feels gamey.

Not wanting to judge a dinner by its looks, I pressed on with the instructions.  Cooked chicken liver is dog food.  Still not gamey in smell but most definitely gamey in texture and appearance.  The whole process up to this point was repulsive which I found to be odd since I was raised on game meat.  If you shoot it, it must be ate in its entirety.  My dad was not of the belief that a deer was only for the back straps and rump roasts.  My dad was the true epitome of waste not want not.  He was the only person in the world that I knew who actually took the time to painstakingly remove meat from a Hill County white tail deer rib cage.  These are not trophy deer.  These are deer who in their prime weigh less than the average male in high school.  We ate the heart, the gizzards, the feet, the brains, the tongue, the things most people don’t consume unless it was a specialty fancy $300 plate.  We ate these things willingly.  Liver, however, some how never crossed my plate as a child.  Now I know why.  Because it is dog food.

After suffering through dinner and feeding the left overs to the chickens, the remaining chicken liver was cooked for the dog.  As I said, I was raised not to waste food.  Never said it didn’t feed the dogs.  In case you are wondering those green things are not bell peppers added to flavor the dog’s dinner.  Those green things came in the bucket of chicken liver.  Don’t know, don’t care to know.

I’m telling you chicken liver is dog food.  There are numerous dishes that have chicken liver in them.  I have had some very yummy boudin and they are always made with chicken liver.  Cooking chicken liver is just not for me.

Chicken liver for dinner.  Never again. Unless I want to treat the dog to a special dinner, maybe for her next birthday or something. Tell me this does not look like dog food?

Seriously, what was I thinking???? Back to the fall food basics.