—from Beeton’s Book of Household Management, 1860
ALEXIS SOYER ON THE TURKISH WAY TO ROAST SHEEP
In 1857, Alexis Soyer, London’s most celebrated chef, decided on his own initiative and expense, to go to the battlefront in the Crimean War to see if he could improve the taste and nutrition of the food of the British army. Along the way he observed the Black Sea food traditions.
—M.K.
Though a primitive method, it is far from being a bad one. About a hundredweight of wood is set on fire in an open place, yard, kitchen, or elsewhere, and when burnt the ashes are piled up pyramidically to about the length of the lamb. Four stones, about a foot high, are then placed two at each end, and about eighteen inches from the fire; the lambs are spitted, head and all, upon a long piece of wood, with a rough handle similar to that of a barrel-organ. They are then put down; each one being turned by one man, who now and then moves the ashes to revive the fire, at the same time basting the lambs with a bunch of feathers dipped in oil. A pan should be placed underneath to receive the fat. This was on this occasion omitted. Each lamb took about three hours doing by that slow process; but I must repeat, they were done to perfection, and worthy of the attention of the greatest epicure.
—from A Culinary Campaign, 1857
Henri Cartier-Bresson, “Little White Beds” Charity Ball, 1952 (Magnum Photos)
LE MÉSNAGIER DE PARIS ON FAKING GAME MEAT
If you would like to pass off a piece of beef as venison—or bear meat if you live in an area where bear is found—pick a beef filet or beef leg, boil it, then lard it, then put it on a skewer for roasting. You must eat it with a sauce from boar tail. The beef should be boiled, then larded, especially lengthwise, and then cut into small pieces. Then pour the well-warmed sauce over the beef, which should first be roasted or plunged into boiling water and immediately removed because beef is more tender than deer.
To disguise beef as bear meat: With a piece of beef leg make a black sauce with ginger, cloves, black pepper, grains of paradise [melegueta pepper, a West African seed that became a medieval food craze], etc. Put two slices in each dish—the beef will have the taste of bear meat.
—from Le Mésnagier de Paris, 1393,
translated from the French by Mark Kurlansky
ELIZA SMITH’S FAKE VENISON
Eliza Smith, according to her own writing, was in charge of food for various wealthy households. She was British and died about 1732. That seems to be all that is known about her. Her book on food and medicine, which was published posthumously in 1758, however, was one of the influential cookbooks of the late eighteenth century. It was the first cookbook ever published in America, although the American edition had certain revisions, including a “Cure for Rattlesnake Bite,” authored by a slave named Caesar who was paid for his contribution with emancipation and £100 a year for life.
—M.K.
Bone a rump of beef, or a large shoulder of mutton; then beat it with a rolling-pin; season it with pepper and nutmeg; lay it twenty-four hours in sheep’s-blood; then dry it with a cloth, and season it again with pepper, salt, and spice. Put your meat in the form of a paste, and bake it as a venison-pasty, and make a gravy with the bones, to put in when it is drawn out of the oven.
—from The Compleat Housewife, 1758
ELIZA SMITH ON RECOVERING VENISON WHEN IT STINKS
One of the great revolutions in nouvelle cuisine was shortening the curing time of game. Pheasants in particular used to be left to rot. Brillat-Savarin said one should hang a pheasant until the breast meat turned green. Grimod said one should hang them by the tail feathers until the carcass fell to the floor. He also said that a pheasant should be hung for “as long as it takes for a man of letters who has never learned the art of flattery to receive a pension.”
It was Claude Lévi-Strauss many years later who made the point that rotten is a subjective judgment—one man’s gamey is another man’s rotten. But game was often cured to a point that some people found “a bit too gamey.”
—M.K.
Take as much cold water in a tub as will cover it a handful over, and put in good store of salt, and let it lie three or four hours; then take your venison out, and let it lie in as much hot water and salt; and let it lie as long as before; then have your crust in readiness, and take it out, and dry it very well, and season it with pepper and salt pretty high, and put it in your pasty. Do not use the bones of your venison for gravy, but get fresh beef or other bones.
—from The Compleat Housewife, 1758
NEAPOLITAN RECIPE TO MAKE A COW, CALF, OR STAG LOOK ALIVE
This is from a recipe collection written by a fifteenth-century Neapolitan chef whose name has been lost.
—M.K.
First kill the cow or calf normally, then skin it beginning at the hooves—but keep the hooves and the horns attached to the hide; when skinned, stretch the hide; then get cumin, fennel, cloves, pepper and salt, all ground up to a powder, and sprinkle it over the inside of the hide; then cut away the shin-bone downward from the knee, and remove the tripe through the flank; if you wish, you can roast capons, pheasants or other creatures and put them into the cow’s body. If you want to bake it in the oven, lay it on a grill; if you want to roast it over the fire, get a piece of wood—that is, a pole like a spit—insert it, lard it well and roast it slowly so as not to burn it. Then make iron bars large enough to hold it standing up; when it is cooked, set up the bar on a large plank and bind it [i.e., the animal] so that it stands on its feet; then dress it in its hide as if it were alive; if the meat has shrunk anywhere because of the cooking, replace it with bay-laurel, sage, rosemary and myrtle; draw the hide back [in place] and sew it so the iron cannot be seen, and give it a posture as if it were alive.
The same can be done with a deer, a sow and a chicken, and with any other animal you wish. Note that preparing this sort of animal requires a cook who is neither foolish nor simple-minded, but rather he must be quite clever. And note, my lord, that if your cook is not skillful he will never prepare anything good that is good, no matter how hard he tries.
—Author unknown, from a fifteenth-century
Neapolitan recipe collection,
translated from the Italian by Terence Scully
JANE GRIGSON ON FAGGOTS AND PEAS
Faggots are a good-tempered dish. They can be reheated. They can be cooked at an even lower temperature, if this suits your convenience. Should they not be nicely browned, a few minutes under the grill, very hot, will do the trick.
Faggots were popular in the past as a way of using up odd bits and pieces left over after a pig was killed. They often included the lights, heart and melt—and indeed many butchers who sell their own faggots use these parts still, rather than the belly of pork in this recipe, as well as the liver. Recipes vary in different parts of the country, just as pâté recipes do in France. Welsh faggots, for instance, may include a chopped cooking apple, and omit the egg. The rich savoury pleasure of faggots—one name given to them is savoury ducks—is very largely due to the enclosing grace of caul fat which keeps the dark lean meat well basted. For this you will need to go to a small family butcher, preferably an older man, who really understands meat.
The word faggot means a bundle, like a faggot of kindling for a fire, so do not be afraid to vary the recipe with additions and alterations of flavouring.
FOR 6
500 g (1 lb) pig’s liver, minced
300 g (10 oz) belly of pork, minced
2 large onions, chopped
1 clove garlic, chopped
4 sage leaves, chopped, or
1 teaspoon dried sage
½ teaspoon mace
2 medium eggs
Up to 125 g (4 oz) breadcrumbs
Salt, pepper
Piece of caul fat
150 ml (¼ pt) beef or veal or pork stock
Put liver, pork, onion, garlic and sage into a frying pan, and cook gently for 30 minutes without allowing the mixture to be brown. Stir occasion
ally.
Strain off the juices and set aside. Mix the meat, etc., with the mace, eggs and enough breadcrumbs to make a firm, easy-to-handle mixture. Taste and season. Soften the caul fat in a bowl of tepid water and cut it into roughly 12 cm (5″) squares. Divide the meat into 60 g (2 oz) knobs, and wrap each one in a square of caul fat. Place side by side close together in an ovenproof dish, which is not too deep: the faggots should stick up slightly above the rim. Pour in the stock. Bake for 40–60 minutes in a moderate oven, mark 3–4, 160–180°C (325–350°F), until the tops are nicely browned. About 20 minutes after the start of cooking time, strain off the juices into the liquor that was left from the first cooking. Stand the bowl in a bowl of ice-cubes, so that the fat rises quickly to the surface and can be skimmed off. Pour the stock over the faggots about 5 minutes before the end of cooking time. Serve with garden peas in the summer time, or with a purée of dried peas in the winter.
—from English Food, 1974
APICIUS ON STUFFED DORMICE
The animal whose common name is “edible dormouse,” known in zoology as Glis glis, is a uniquely European creature. Romans used to fatten them with a special diet before cooking them. Seven inches long with a bushy seven-inch tail, the edible dormouse has not known much favor since Roman times, perhaps because it reminds park lovers of the thing they are trying to forget—that a squirrel is just a rat with a bushy tail.
—M.K.
Stuffed Dormouse
Is stuffed with a forcemeat of pork and small pieces of dormouse meat trimmings, all pounded with pepper, nuts, laser, broth. Put the dormouse thus stuffed in an earthen casserole, roast it in the oven, or boil it in the stock pot.
—first century A.D.,
translated from the Latin by Joseph Dommers Vehling
LUDWIG BEMELMANS ON ELEPHANT CUTLET
Once upon a time there were two men in Vienna who wanted to open a restaurant. One was a dentist who was tired of fixing teeth and always wanted to own a restaurant, and the other a famous cook by the name of Souphans.
The dentist was, however, a little afraid. “There are,” he said, “already too many restaurants in Vienna, restaurants of every kind, Viennese, French, Italian, Chinese, American, American-Chinese, Portuguese, Armenian, Dietary, Vegetarian, Jewish, Wine and Beer restaurants—in short, all sorts of restaurants.”
But the chef had an Idea. “There is one kind of restaurant that Vienna has not,” he said.
“What kind?” said the dentist.
“A restaurant such as has never existed before, a restaurant for cutlets from every animal in the world.”
The dentist was afraid, but finally he agreed, and the famous chef went out to buy a house, tables and chairs, and engaged help, pots and pans and had a sign painted with big red letters ten feet high saying: “CUTLETS FROM EVERY ANIMAL IN THE WORLD.”
The first customer that entered the door was a distinguished lady, a countess. She sat down and asked for an elephant cutlet.
“How would Madame like this elephant cutlet cooked?” said the waiter. “Oh, Milanaise, sauté in butter, with a little spaghetti over it, on that a filet of anchovy, and an olive on top,” she said.
“That is very nice,” said the waiter and went out to order it.
“Jessas Maria und Joseph!” said the dentist when he heard the order, and he turned to the chef and cried, “What did I tell you? Now what are we going to do?”
The chef said nothing; he put on a clean apron and walked into the dining room to the table of the lady. There he bowed, bent down to her and said, “Madame has ordered an elephant cutlet?”
“Yes,” said the countess.
“With spaghetti and a filet of anchovy and an olive?”
“Yes.”
“Madame is all alone?”
“Yes, yes.”
“Madame expects no one else?”
“No.”
“And Madame wants only one cutlet?”
“Yes,” said the lady, “but why all these questions?”
“Because,” said the chef, “because, Madame, I am very sorry, but for one cutlet we cannot cut up our elephant.”
—from La Bonne Table, 1964
PETER MARTYR ON SEA TURTLES
Peter Martyr, sometimes known as Pietro Martire, published in 1555 only the second book to appear in the English language describing the Americas, The Decades of the Newe Worlde or West India. The following passage describes a small island, which today is known as Isla Beata off the Dominican Republic.
The European arrival in North America unleashed a series of environmental disasters. This small piece unintentionally reveals one. Europeans loved to eat sea turtles and, even worse, their eggs. Within a matter of decades sea turtles were endangered. By 1620, the Bermuda Assembly had passed a law banning the killing of these animals in their waters.
—M.K.
On the lefte syde of Hispaniola towarde the Southe, near unto the haven Beata, there lythe an Islande named Portus Bellus. They tell marvelous thynges of the monsters of the sea aboute this Island, and especially of the tortoyles. For they saye that they are bygger then greate rounde targettes. At suche tyme as the heate of nature moveth theym too generation, they coome foorthe of the sea: And makynge a deepe pytte in the sande, they laye three or foure hudreth egges therein. When they have thus emptied their bagge of conception, they putte as much of the sande ageyne into the pytte, as maye suffyce to cover the egges: And soo resorte ageyne to the sea, nothynge carefull of their succession. At the daye appopynted of nature to the procreation of these beautes, there escapeth owte a multitude of tortoyles, as it were pissemares swarming owte of an ante hyll: And this onely by the heate of the soonne withowte any helpe of their parentes. They saye that their egges are in maner as bygge as geese egges. They also compare the fleshse of these tortoyles, to be equall with veale in taste.
—from The Decades of the Newe Worlde or West India, 1555
ALEXIS SOYER ON COOKING MEAT FOR FIFTY MEN
Although little remembered today, Soyer was one of the heroes of the Crimean War, beloved by officers and men for having improved the food. His culinary effort was credited with saving more lives than Florence Nightingale’s nursing. Among other innovations, he invented a portable field stove. But the “culinary campaign,” as he called it, was rigorous, and though he was only forty-eight at the time, it ruined his health and he died soon after.
—M.K.
No. 1—Soyer’s Receipt to Cook Salt Meat for Fifty Men.
Headquarters, Crimea, 12th May, 1856.
1. Put 50 lbs. of meat in the boiler.
2. Fill with water, and let soak all night.
3. Next morning wash the meat well.
4. Fill with fresh water, and boil gently three hours, and serve.
Skim off the fat, which, when cold, is an excellent substitute for butter.
For salt pork proceed as above, or boil half beef and half pork—the pieces of beef may be smaller than the pork, requiring a little longer time doing.
Dumplings may be added to either pork or beef in proportion; and when pork is properly soaked, the liquor will make a very good soup. The large yellow peas as used by the navy, may be introduced; it is important to have them, as they are a great improvement. When properly soaked, French haricot beans and lentils may also be used to advantage. By the addition of 5 pounds of split peas, half a pound of brown sugar, 2 tablespoons of pepper, 10 onions; simmer gently till in pulp, remove the fat and serve; broken biscuit may be introduced. This will make an excellent mess.
—from A Culinary Campaign, 1857
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Easy on the Starch
MARTINO’S SICILIAN MACARONI
Libro de arte coquinaria, Book of Culinary Art, by Maestro Martino da Como is considered the most important Italian recipe collection of the fifteenth century. Martino came from northern Italy but made his reputation in Rome. Most Italian recipe collections of the period show his influence. Sicilians make much of the fact that
Martino thought of macaroni as a Sicilian invention. Many historians doubt the story of Marco Polo introducing pasta from China, though China then, and now, abounded in flat, broad, thin, and stuffed pastas. But Marco Polo barely mentioned pasta in 1300 in his ghost-written book, and there is little record of Italians experimenting with a new “Chinese” food. The word “maccheroni,” the original word for pasta, seems to be the key. The word was used in the thirteenth century before Marco Polo’s return. Unfortunately for the Sicilian case, it was mentioned in Naples. There is also evidence of an earlier Greek lasagna. Nevertheless, Sicilians can argue that the great Martino called it Maccaroni siciliani.
—M.K.
Make a dough of the best flour, mixed with the white of one egg and rosewater, blended with water. If you want to make only two plates of it add only one or two yolks, making this a very tough dough, and roll small round sticks a handswidth in length and the thickness of straw. Take an iron rod a handswidth long and a cord thick and use it to roll the sticks of dough on the table with both hands. Then pull the metal rod out and a macaroni with a hollowed center remains. Dry these macaronis in the sun. Once dry, they can be kept for two to three years. Cook in water or a good meat stock and sprinkle with grated cheese when you serve them with melted butter and mild spices. These macaroni need to boil for an hour.
Choice Cuts Page 27