Chicken liver is probably my favorite part of a chicken, and I’ve tasted everything there is to taste on a chicken. It’s so richly flavored, with a melt-in-your-mouth texture. When I was growing up (and not all that long ago in the United States), if you went to the market to buy poultry, a chicken was hung upside down and killed right there in front of you—so you knew it was fresh. Maybe that would shock some people in today’s grocery store world, but unlike so much commercial chicken processing today, it’s really very humane. And nothing went to waste—my mom used every single part of the animal that had given its life to feed her family, down to the fresh blood that the butcher handed over in a jar. Making at least three meals for our big family felt very respectful of that one chicken’s life.
The first night, she might make arroz con pollo (chicken with green rice); the next night, with the chicken blood, she’d cook up a pot of sangrecitas, a stewlike pudding with garlic and spices thickened with potato starch. It is crazy good, and my mom always said also good for you (it’s full of iron). At some point, a pot of menudencia, my favorite chicken gizzard stew, was usually bubbling on the stove. (I would volunteer to help serve the stew so I could fish around in the pot and make sure I got the best part—the liver.) So far, I haven’t gotten very far with sangrecitas or menudencia at my restaurants, but chicken livers seem to be fair game in the United States.
As with all gizzards, buy your livers from a trusted source. That doesn’t mean necessarily a fancy butcher, but simply a good grocer that you trust. I usually grill meats “dry” (see page 113) but with liver, you need a little oil to keep the meat from sticking. The marinade keeps the livers very moist, so baste them regularly. Combining Japanese teriyaki sauce and anticucho sauce isn’t traditional, but the flavors are so good together, I like to think of it as my tribute to Chino-Peruvian cooking.
On days when you’re not making chicken livers, the anticucho-teriyaki basting glaze would also be so good on any teriyaki-style grilled chicken or vegetables.
1 Prepare a regular or hibachi grill for direct, high-heat cooking and place a fish grate on the grill. Weave the chicken livers like ribbon candy onto the end of 8 to 10 skewers. They should be tightly bunched around the skewer. (Threading them snugly helps keep the centers of the livers medium to medium-rare and the meat moist and tender; if using other parts of a chicken, like thigh or breast meat, leave a little space between each piece so they cook fully.) Brush all sides of the livers lightly with the oil. Mix together the teriyaki sauce and roasted red pepper anticucho sauce in a small bowl to make a basting glaze. Set aside about 3 generous tablespoons of the basting glaze in a separate small dish to use as a finishing sauce.
2 When the grill is very hot, place one skewer on the hot fish grate and immediately lift it and place it back on the grill three times in quick succession (this is the “pull-up” technique—see page 113). With that first skewer, if you have trouble with the livers sticking, brush a little oil lightly on the grill and let the grate heat back up. Add another skewer and repeat the lifting technique (add the skewers in batches, until you get the hang of it). Grill until the bottom side is well seared and the flesh turns brown about halfway up the sides, about 1 minute if your grill is really hot. Flip the livers, lift them quickly up and down again a few times on the opposite side, and grill them for 30 seconds, or until they just get nice color on the bottom.
3 Baste the livers generously with the teriyaki-anticucho glaze, flip, and brush the top sides with more glaze. Grill until the livers caramelize on the bottom, usually only 30 seconds more. At this point, keep basting the tops of the livers continuously as they cook. They should still be nice and pink in the center. Brush the livers generously with the glaze again, flip them one more time, and immediately transfer the livers to a serving plate, leaving them on the skewers for serving.
4 Drizzle the reserved teriyaki-anticucho glaze on top of the livers and around the serving plate.
Makes about 1½ cups
Most of the store-bought teriyaki sauces you find in the United States are a mess of salt, sugar, and additives that taste terrible. Homemade teriyaki sauce has a rich, caramelized flavor, is easy to make, and keeps in the fridge for weeks. I use it on anything that needs a blast of salty-sweet flavor, like classic sautéed chicken or beef teriyaki, or on green beans with bonito flakes (page 191).
1 In a medium high-sided saucepan, combine the mirin and sake and bring to a vigorous boil over medium-high heat, then let the liquid boil for 2 to 3 minutes to cook off the alcohol. (If a blue flame ever surges up, it’s just the alcohol cooking off. Turn off the heat, carefully cover the pot, and the high flames should go away so you can resume cooking.)
2 Turn off the heat, stir in the soy sauce and sugar, and return the heat to medium. Simmer, stirring regularly, until the sauce turns a rich caramel color, thickens slightly, and smells nice and toasty, 4 to 5 minutes. Transfer the sauce to a small bowl to cool for 10 minutes before using (it will thicken more as it cools). Cover and refrigerate the teriyaki sauce for up to 3 weeks. Rewarm the sauce over low heat before using.