Liver With Peppers and Onions -- What Mama Still Puts on the Table in Evarts

April rain. The garden going in. Worked at the construction company in Lexington this week. The body holds. Most days.

Connie at the vet clinic, four shifts this week. Her back is tired. She does not say so. I see it. Mama is 86. She is the toughest person I have ever known. She still cooks every day in the company house in Evarts.

Green beans cooked low with bacon. The garden producing. Connie picked. I cooked.

Travis called Tuesday. The landscaping company is busy. He sounds tired in a good way. Amber called Sunday. Things are good. James sends his regards.

The creek was running clear. The turkeys were back. The week was the week.

Read the paper at breakfast Tuesday. The county news is not great. The mines have not come back and they will not come back. The young people leave. The hollows empty. We stay.

The creek was running clear Sunday afternoon. I watched a kingfisher work the riffle. Did not move for an hour. Some Sundays the watching is the worship.

The neighbor up the road — Old Roy, eighty-seven, lives alone — had a small heart scare. We took him soup beans Tuesday. Cornbread too. He cried a little when he ate. We all cry over soup beans eventually.

Travis sent a photo of Earl Thomas riding on the mower with him at a job site. The boy is wearing a Hensley Landscaping T-shirt that's too big. Three generations on a mower. I saved the photo.

Connie read aloud from a novel Tuesday evening while I worked on the bench. Some Appalachian writer she had picked up at the library in Whitesburg. The voice was the voice of where we live. We listened together.

I went up to Earl's grave at the Evarts cemetery Saturday. Brought a beer. Drank half. Poured the rest on the dirt. Some traditions are mine alone.

The dog — old Beau, fifteen years old — slept by the wood stove all afternoon Tuesday. He used to be a hunting dog. Now he is a heating pad with opinions.

Sunday service at Harlan First Baptist when we go. Pastor preached about Ruth and Boaz. The choir sang. Connie wore her gray dress.

I sat on the porch with bourbon at sundown Friday. The fog rolled into the hollow the way it has every fog of every year. The porch was the porch. The bourbon was the bourbon.

I split a half-cord of wood Saturday. Slowly. The back does not let me work fast anymore. It got done. The wood was for the smokehouse.

My back was tight after the wood-splitting Saturday. Took an Aleve. Slept eight hours. Got up.

Amber sent the kids' school photos this week. Nadia is taller every year. Marcus has Amber's serious face. Little Betty has Mama's eyes.

Drove to Pineville for parts Wednesday. The hardware store man knew me. We talked about the weather and the price of feed. Forty minutes for a five-minute errand. That is rural Kentucky.

Drove the truck to the dump Saturday afternoon. Saw three deer crossing the road on the way back. The mountains have been giving back this year.

Connie cut my hair on the porch Tuesday afternoon. She has been cutting my hair for forty years. The barber in Pineville cannot do what Connie does, which is also love.

I checked the truck oil Saturday. The mileage on this truck is criminal.

Worked on a basement remodel job in Lexington. The work was good. The pay was good. The body is tired.

Connie made jam Saturday afternoon. Wild blackberries from the patch up the hollow. Twelve jars. The pantry is filling for winter.

Mama still cooks every day in that company house in Evarts — eighty-six years old and she hasn’t slowed the stove down one bit. Liver with peppers and onions is one of hers, one of those dishes that the young people leave behind when they go and that we stay for. This week, with Connie’s back tired and my own body holding on by habit, it felt right to cook something that didn’t need explaining — something that just meant home.

Liver With Peppers and Onions

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 1 lb beef liver, sliced 1/2 inch thick
• 1 cup whole milk (for soaking)
• 2 medium yellow onions, sliced into rings
• 2 green bell peppers, sliced into strips
• 3 tablespoons butter or bacon drippings, divided
• 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
• 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
• 1/4 cup beef broth

Instructions

1. Soak the liver. Place liver slices in a shallow dish and cover with milk. Let soak 20—30 minutes to draw out bitterness. Drain and pat thoroughly dry with paper towels.
2. Dredge. Whisk together flour, salt, pepper, and garlic powder in a shallow bowl. Press each liver slice into the flour mixture on both sides, shaking off any excess.
3. Cook the vegetables. Melt 1 tablespoon butter in a large cast-iron or heavy skillet over medium heat. Add onions and peppers. Cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and starting to pick up a little color, about 8—10 minutes. Transfer to a plate and set aside.
4. Sear the liver. Add remaining 2 tablespoons butter to the skillet and raise heat to medium-high. Once the butter foams, lay in the liver slices without crowding. Cook 2—3 minutes per side — browned outside, just barely pink at the center. Overcooking toughens it.
5. Bring it together. Return the onions and peppers to the skillet. Pour in the Worcestershire sauce and beef broth. Stir gently and let everything cook together 1—2 minutes until the sauce tightens and coats the meat.
6. Serve. Plate the liver and spoon the peppers, onions, and pan juices over the top. Goes best with mashed potatoes, rice, or a wedge of cornbread.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 290 | Protein: 27g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 15g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 490mg