the underbelly

A long, long time ago…back before the crash when people had dreams – attainable dreams – back about….three years, I lived in Los Angeles for a summer. LA is my birthplace. We lived in the lovely, formerly hippy playground of Venice Beach. As a kid I remember playing in the Pacific, watching the inhumanly muscular guys show off in spandex on Muscle Beach, being taken care of by homeless people (that’s true, by the way, just ask my dad). So moving back to the same general area (West LA) was a bit of a let down – nothing’s ever as good as you remember it being when you were five. Though, I will continue to go to Disneyland with the hopes that it will be as good, just once, until I die. ANYWAY. What LA lacked in its former neon happiness that summer so long ago, it made up for in food. Japanese food to be specific. It’s where I first discovered ankimo – monkfish liver. Back then I found it in a little sushi place on Sawtelle. So when I found it in New York like this:

I wasn’t exactly sure what to do. But I did know I had to buy it. So along with my multiple slightly-better-than-average ramen packs I got a log of monkfish liver. It was already steamed into its tubular form and it came with a small pack of soy sauce, so I figured it was ready to be eaten. 

Appetizing, no? No. No, it wasn’t. And if I hadn’t known that I loved it so much back in the day, I probably would have been a little nervous to eat it. 

I sliced it up onto some leftover rice and topped the bowl with ponzu sauce. 

Still doesn’t look very appetizing.  But oh man it was satisfying. It has a wonderful, subtly livery, foie-y flavor (yes, I realize that’s redundant). Just for fun here’s a picture of the terrifying creature that this scrumptious treat comes from: 

 Frightening. It’s like an evil puddle of grease with teeth.