If you can ignore the "found porn" aspect of the above photo, what you'll see is the sign for The Sausage King, a hole-in-the-wall German deli in Mission Hills that made a liverwurst lover out of me. I can't stomach liver, so you tack a "wurst" onto that, and it only gets worse. Or so I thought. But then the nice, elderly lady behind the counter talked me into a sample (I think when we were picking up our Easter ham last year), and now a half pound of that stuff makes it into my fridge on an almost bi-weekly basis. I scoop it by the cracker-full or turn it into a sandwich with mustard on rye. Addictive, I tell you.
There it is in the middle of the above case, wrapped in red casing. Now, I don't think it's safe to go for just any liverwurst. The King's is special in that it's housemade (along with the sausage) and comes in both coarse and fine versions (the "fine" making for pretty darn good baby food). It also adds to the charm and I think the flavor of their 'wurst in that when you walk into the King, you feel like you're walking right off the cobblestone streets of Heidelberg. Even the cash register is imported. So authentic. So good. So glad I'll try anything once.