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There’s only one answer to the following question for me.

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Calves liver with onions.

I hated it then, I hate it now. I’m nothing if not consistent.

I was an only child of older parents and it would be fair to say I was a trifle spoiled. I didn’t have to do chores, help with the housework or babysit the neighbors kids for money. I was also never forced to clean my plate at the dinner table… until one night when my mother decided to draw the line at my finicky eating habits.

Unfortunately for me it was liver and onions night. Of all the meals in all the world, my mother decided to make a stand on that hill.

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Did I mention I was a stubborn child? If I didn’t eat the liver and onions when it was fresh and warm, the chances of me eating it 2 hours later when it was cold and congealed were positively nil. But she forbade me to get up from the table until I ate at least half, so I sat.

And sat.

And sat…. until my father took pity on me and let Hiram, our beloved ancient beagle, into the dining room.

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Hiram loved liver! And happily devoured half my portion.

Thank you Hiram. If it wasn’t for you… I might still be sitting there.

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