I must be one of the few people in the world who simply loves to eat a well-prepared meal of liver, fried onions, and mashed potatoes. Calf's liver, coated with a salt-and-peppered flour coating, pan-fried to a crispy exterior, now that's a meal that I could eat at least weekly.
One of the great things of eating in the messhall was the evenings when they would serve liver. Normally, you were only allowed one pass through the serving line. On liver nights, they let me go back and get as many refills as I wanted.
My daddy was right there with you on the liver.
But the mess hall ruined mutton for him. He could barely sit down, even in the best restaurant, next to a rack of lamb.