Odd and unusual foods in the Southern Backcountry cover a broad range of delicacies (and indelicacies) -- fried pickles, deep-fried Oreos, fried green tomatoes, frogs' legs, fried grits, chicken-fried squirrel, and others, mostly with the word "fried" expressed or implied. Outstanding among these is livermush, including liver pudding, a Backcountry phenomenon with its epicentre in central North Carolina.
One of our local groceries recently began carrying a variety of liver pudding, Jenkins, which serves the purpose well when the need for livermush arises. Before I go further, let me hasten to acknowledge that livermush purists -- yes, you read that right, livermush purists -- will insist that liver pudding is not really livermush. Nonetheless, when we were kids, liver pudding was called "livermush," and that's how we think of it.
Specifically, what we called "livermush" was and is Neese's Liver Pudding, made in the North Carolina Piedmont and distributed throughout much of North Carolina and into parts of the Virginia and South Carolina Piedmonts. Neese's also makes Neese's Liver Mush, distributed in Western North Carolina, a hotbed of livermush purism. Both products are made with hog's liver; the spices are somewhat different and liver pudding contains more corn meal.
The story of Neese's Sausage has a classic Backcountry beginning:
The Neese history begins with family members immigrating to America in the early 1700s. In 1769, George Neese (born 1744) moved to what is now Guilford County, North Carolina, traveling the great wagon road through the Shenandoah Valley from Berks County Pennsylvania.
Neese's Company History. The company remains a family-run business and still makes its product line with pure ingredients, delivered fresh to its customers. Which explains why we unfortunately can't get the real thing where I live and have to make do with a substitute.
There are four other North Carolina producers -- Mack's Livermush and Meats and Jenkins Foods, both in Shelby, Hunter's in Marion, and Frank Corriher Beef and Sausage in China Grove, all of which have avid followings. And if you think I'm overstating the case by the use of such terms as "purist" and "avid," consider that North Carolina boasts three (3) annual livermush gatherings -- the Livermush Festival in June in Marion, North Carolina, the Fall Festival and Liver Mush Expo in Shelby, N.C., and another Livermush Festival in Drexel, N.C. As far as I can determine, these are the only such events in the known universe. Purists. Avid.
How does one cook livermush? Fry it, of course. Traditionally, in bacon drippings or lard, but I recommend a vegetable oil such as Crisco or peanut oil, and on the sparse side. There are, inevitably, two schools of thought on the matter of cut -- thick and thin. "Thick" means you cut off slices of one-half inch or so, and brown both sides in oil until heated through. "Thin" livermushers prefer slices of one-fourth inch or less, fried in oil until the slab is crispy. Serve with a side of grits (boiled, not fried) and eggs over-easy, or scrambled if you must.
There are variations, such as the livermush sandwich for lunch and -- you had to know this would be so -- Livermush-on-a-Stick, Mack's specialty at the Shelby Liver Mush Expo: slices of livermush which have been battered and deep-fried.
So where do I stand on this vitally important point of Backcountry cuisine? Non-purist Neese's Liver Pudding, sliced thick, with yellow grits and eggs over easy. Those thin-slice, white-grits, scrambled-eggs types just don't know what they're missing.
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