When I behaved badly as a child, my Dad would threaten us with liver and onion."If you don't behave, you're going to be eating live and onions for a week".
I had no idea what live and onions tasted like, but from his tone of voice I had a feeling I didn't want to find out.
This afternoon, I walked around the city a bit and ended up at my local. I was watching a Premier League game (Chelsea vs. Someone Crappy That Chelsea Tore Apart By The 15th Minute) and thought I'd have a bite to eat. I perused the badly translated English menu, and thought I'd try the first thing on the recommended list because it looked new and interesting, like something I had never tried.
I ended up with a giant, thin potato pancake, with a little cheese cooked in, folded like an omelet and filled with.....liver and onions.
Now, I saw both the words "liver" and "onions" in the description, but they didn't seem so close together. Maybe there would be some liver involved, and perhaps, on another portion of the plate, some onions would repose, but it never entered my mind that I was ordering them together.
Well, I'm in a different country, right? So I thought "what the hell" and figured it'd be good, or at least interesting.
It turns out there's a reason my dad threatened me with that dish.
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