Before we know it, we were free-pouring schmaltz over sourdough "smuggled in from London" like maple syrup over waffles. Salty, garlicky, herb-laced fat that seeps into porous bread, giving it savoriness and richness? Of course this is the right move. So why don't we do this all the time? Unless you're dining at an old lion like Sammy's Roumanian in New York, where chicken fat is poured from IHOP pitchers into tableside chopped liver, this is a pleasure most of us only think about, never act upon.