I have been a paté freak ever since earlier writing times, when I would sit at the bar at Thursday’s in Montréal with a loaf of it, a jar of small, sweet gherkins and a red (probably plum) sauce. Whether or not there was bread, I can't remember. But it was a coarse paté; you could see the lumps and taste masses of herbs and tonnes of garlic. You don't forget things like that, especially in the first twelve or so hours! This recipe calls on several others, but ended up being mostly my own. I use frozen livers, and just before they thaw, cut them up like red ice cubes. It's less yucky than having a great glob of fresh meat!