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THE COOK'S DECAMERON
A Study In Taste
Containing Over Two Hundred Recipes For Italian Dishes
By Mrs. W. G. Waters
"Show me a pleasure like dinner, which comes every day
and lasts an
hour."— Talleyrand circa 1801
To
A. V.
In memory of Certain Ausonian Feasts
Preface
Montaigne in one of his essays* mentions the high excellence Italian cookery had attained in his day. "I have entered into this Discourse upon the Occasion of an Italian I lately receiv'd into my Service, and who was Clerk of the Kitchen to the late Cardinal Caraffa till his Death. I put this Fellow upon an Account of his office: Where he fell to Discourse of this Palate-Science, with such a settled Countenance and Magisterial Gravity, as if he had been handling some profound Point of Divinity. He made a Learned Distinction of the several sorts of Appetites, of that of a Man before he begins to eat, and of those after the second and third Service: The Means simply to satisfy the first, and then to raise and acute the other two: The ordering of the Sauces, first in general, and then proceeded to the Qualities of the Ingredients, and their Effects: The Differences of Sallets, according to their seasons, which ought to be serv'd up hot, and which cold: The Manner of their Garnishment and Decoration, to render them yet more acceptable to the Eye after which he entered upon the Order of the whole Service, full of weighty and important Considerations."
Montaigne, in one of his essays, talks about how excellent Italian cuisine had become during his time. "I started this discussion because of an Italian man I recently hired, who was the head chef for the late Cardinal Caraffa until his death. I assigned him a task related to his role, and he began discussing this culinary science with such a serious and authoritative demeanor, as if he were addressing some deep theological issue. He made an insightful distinction between the different types of appetites: that of a person before they start eating, and those that arise after the second and third courses. He explained how to satisfy the first appetite simply and then how to stimulate the other two. He talked about organizing sauces, first in general terms, then focusing on the qualities of the ingredients and their effects. He discussed the differences in salads based on the seasons, which should be served hot and which should be cold, as well as how to garnish and decorate them to make them more visually appealing. After that, he covered the overall arrangement of the entire service, filled with significant and important considerations."
It is consistent with Montaigne's large-minded habit thus to applaud the gifts of this master of his art who happened not to be a Frenchman. It is a canon of belief with the modern Englishman that the French alone can achieve excellence in the art of cookery, and when once a notion of this sort shall have found a lodgment in an Englishman's brain, the task of removing it will be a hard one. Not for a moment is it suggested that Englishmen or any one else should cease to recognise the sovereign merits of French cookery; all that is entreated is toleration, and perchance approval, of cookery of other schools. But the favourable consideration of any plea of this sort is hindered by the fact that the vast majority of Englishmen when they go abroad find no other school of cookery by the testing of which they may form a comparison. This universal prevalence of French cookery may be held to be a proof of its supreme excellence—that it is first, and the rest nowhere; but the victory is not so complete as it seems, and the facts would bring grief and humiliation rather than patriotic pride to the heart of a Frenchman like Brillat-Savarin. For the cookery we meet in the hotels of the great European cities, though it may be based on French traditions, is not the genuine thing, but a bastard, cosmopolitan growth, the same everywhere, and generally vapid and uninteresting. French cookery of the grand school suffers by being associated with such commonplace achievements. It is noted in the following pages how rarely English people on their travels penetrate where true Italian cookery may be tasted, wherefore it has seemed worth while to place within the reach of English housewives some Italian recipes which are especially fitted for the presentation of English fare to English palates under a different and not unappetising guise. Most of them will be found simple and inexpensive, and special care has been taken to include those recipes which enable the less esteemed portions of meat and the cheaper vegetables and fish to be treated more elaborately than they have hitherto been treated by English cooks.
It’s typical of Montaigne’s broad-mindedness to praise the skills of this master of his craft, even though he wasn’t French. Many modern English people believe that only the French can excel in cooking, and once an English person has this idea in their head, it’s tough to change it. We're not suggesting that English people or anyone else should stop appreciating the undeniable strengths of French cuisine; we’re just asking for tolerance and maybe even acceptance of cooking from other traditions. However, this openness is limited because most English travelers find no other culinary traditions abroad to compare with. This widespread dominance of French cooking might suggest its ultimate superiority—that it’s the best, and the others are nowhere in sight; yet, the truth isn't as straightforward as it seems, and the reality would likely bring more sadness and embarrassment than national pride to someone like Brillat-Savarin. The cooking we encounter in the hotels of major European cities, while rooted in French traditions, is not authentic; it’s a mixed, global-style version that’s the same everywhere and often bland and uninteresting. The high standards of classic French cuisine suffer due to its association with such ordinary offerings. In the following pages, it’s noted how seldom English travelers actually experience authentic Italian cooking, so it seems worthwhile to provide English housewives with some Italian recipes that are especially suitable for serving English dishes in a fresh and appealing way. Most of these recipes are straightforward and affordable, and special attention has been given to including those that allow for less popular cuts of meat and cheaper vegetables and fish to be prepared in more elaborate ways than is typically done by English cooks.
The author wishes to tender her acknowledgments to her husband for certain suggestions and emendations made in the revision of the introduction, and for his courage in dining, "greatly daring," off many of the dishes. He still lives and thrives. Also to Mrs. Mitchell, her cook, for the interest and enthusiasm she has shown in the work, for her valuable advice, and for the care taken in testing the recipes.
The author wants to thank her husband for some helpful suggestions and changes made while revising the introduction and for his bravery in trying out many of the dishes. He’s still alive and doing well. She also thanks Mrs. Mitchell, her cook, for her interest and enthusiasm in the project, her valuable advice, and the attention given to testing the recipes.
CONTENTS
No. 1. Espagnole, or Brown Sauce
No. 4. Mirepoix Sauce (for masking)
No. 7. Ham Sauce, Salsa di Prosciutto
No. 13. Neapolitan Anchovy Sauce
No. 14. Roman Sauce (Salsa Agro-dolce)
No. 15. Roman Sauce (another way)
No. 17. Pasta marinate (For masking Italian Frys)
No. 20. Zuppa Primaverile (Spring Soup)
No. 33. Zuppa d' Erbe (Lettuce Soup)
No. 34. Zuppa Regina di Riso (Queen's Soup)
No. 35. A Condiment for Seasoning Minestre, &c.
No. 36. Minestra alla Casalinga
No. 37. Minestra of Rice and Turnips
No. 38. Minestra alla Capucina
No. 40. Minestrone alla Milanese
No. 41. Minestra of Rice and Cabbage
No. 42. Minestra of Rice and Celery
No. 43. Anguilla alla Milanese (Eels).
No. 44. Filletti di Pesce alla Villeroy (Fillets of Fish)
No. 45. Astachi all'Italiana (Lobster)
No. 46. Baccala alla Giardiniera (Cod)
No. 47. Triglie alla Marinara (Mullet)
No. 51. Merluzzo in Bianco (Cod)
No. 52. Merluzzo in Salamoia (Cod)
No. 53. Baccala in Istufato (Haddock)
No. 54. Naselli con Piselli (Whiting)
No. 55. Ostriche alla Livornese (Oysters)
No. 56. Ostriche alla Napolitana (Oysters)
No. 57. Ostriche alla Veneziana (Oysters)
No. 58. Pesci diversi alla Casalinga (Fish)
No. 59. Pesce alla Genovese (Sole or Turbot)
No. 60. Sogliole in Zimino (Sole)
No. 61. Sogliole al tegame (Sole)
No. 62. Sogliole alla Livornese (Sole)
No. 63. Sogliole alla Veneziana (Sole)
No. 64. Sogliole alla Parmigiana (Sole).*
No. 65. Salmone alla Genovese (Salmon)
No. 66. Salmone alla Perigo (Salmon)
No. 67. Salmone alla giardiniera (Salmon)
No. 68. Salmone alla Farnese (Salmon)
No. 69. Salmone alla Santa Fiorentina (Salmon)
No. 70. Salmone alla Francesca (Salmon)
No. 71. Fillets of Salmon in Papiliotte
No. 72. Manzo alla Certosina (Fillet of Beef)
No. 73. Stufato alla Florentina (Stewed Beef)
No. 74. Coscia di Manzo al Forno (Rump Steak)
No. 75. Polpettine alla Salsa Piccante (Beef Olives)
No. 76. Stufato alla Milanese (Stewed Beef)
No. 77. Manzo Marinato Arrosto (Marinated Beef)
No. 78. Manzo con sugo di Barbabietole (Fillet of Beef)
No. 79. Manzo in Insalata (Marinated Beef)
No. 80. Filetto di Bue con Pistacchi (Fillets of Beef with Pistacchios)
No. 81. Scalopini di Riso (Beef with Risotto)
No. 82. Tenerumi alla Piemontese (Tendons of Veal)
No. 83. Bragiuole di Vitello (Veal Cutlets)
No. 84. Costolette alla Manza (Veal Cutlets)
No. 85. Vitello alla Pellegrina (Breast of Veal)
No. 86. Frittura Piccata al Marsala (Fillet of Veal)
No. 87. Polpettine Distese (Veal Olives)
No. 88. Coste di Vitello Imboracciate (Ribs of Veal)
No. 89. Costolette di Montone alla Nizzarda (Mutton Cutlets)
No. 90. Petto di Castrato all'Italiana (Breast of Mutton)
No. 91. Petto di Castrato alla Salsa piccante (Breast of Mutton)
No. 92. Tenerumi d'Agnello alla Villeroy (Tendons of Lamb)
No. 93. Tenerumi d' Agnello alla Veneziana (Tendons of Lamb)
No. 94. Costolette d' Agnello alla Costanza (Lamb Cutlets)
Tongue, Sweetbread, Calf's Head, Liver, Sucking Pig, &C.
No. 96. Timballo alla Lombarda
No. 97. Lingua alla Visconti (Tongue)
No. 98. Lingua di Manzo al Citriuoli (Tongue with Cucumber)
No. 99. Lingue di Castrato alla Cuciniera (Sheep's Tongues)
No. 100. Lingue di Vitello all'Italiana (Calves' Tongues)
No. 101. Porcelletto alla Corradino (Sucking Pig)
No. 102. Porcelletto da Latte in Galantina (Sucking Pig)
No. 104. Ateletti alla Genovese
No. 105. Testa di Vitello alla Sorrentina (Calf's Head)
No. 106. Testa di Vitello con Salsa Napoletana (Calf's Head)
No. 107. Testa di Vitello alla Pompadour (Calf's Head)
No. 108. Testa di Vitello alla Sanseverino (Calf's Head)
No. 109. Testa di Vitello in Frittata (Calf's Head)
No. 110. Zampetti (Calves' Feet)
No. 112. Animelle alla Parmegiana (Sweetbread)
No. 113. Animelle in Cartoccio (Sweetbread)
No. 114. Animelle all'Italiana (Sweetbread)
No. 115. Animelle Lardellate (Sweetbread)
No. 116. Frittura di Bottoni e di Animelle (Sweetbread and Mushrooms)
No. 117. Cervello in Fili serbe (Calf's Brains)
No. 118. Cervello alla Milanese (Calf's Brains)
No. 119. Cervello alla Villeroy (Calf's Brains)
No. 120. Frittura of Liver and Brains
No. 121. Cervello in Frittata Montano (Calf's Brains)
No. 122. Marinata di Cervello alla Villeroy (Calf's Brains)
No. 123. Minuta alla Milanese (Lamb's Sweetbread)
No. 124. Animelle al Sapor di Targone (Lamb's Fry)
No. 125. Fritto Misto alla Villeroy
No. 126. Fritto Misto alla Piemontese
No. 127. Minuta di Fegatini (Ragout of Fowls' Livers)
No. 128. Minuta alla Visconti (Chickens' Livers)
No. 129. Croutons alla Principesca
Fowl, Duck, Game, Hare, Rabbit, &c.
No. 131. Soffiato di Cappone (Fowl Souffle)
No. 132. Pollo alla Fiorentina (Chicken)
No. 133. Pollo all'Oliva (Chicken)
No. 134. Pollo alla Villereccia (Chicken)
No. 135. Pollo alla Cacciatora (Chicken)
No. 136. Pollastro alla Lorenese (Fowl)
No. 137. Pollastro in Fricassea al Burro (Fowl)
No. 138. Pollastro in istufa di Pomidoro (Braized Fowl)
No. 139. Cappone con Riso (Capon with Rice)
No. 140. Dindo Arrosto alla Milanese (Roast Turkey)
No. 141. Tacchinotto all'Istrione (Turkey Poult)
No. 142. Fagiano alla Napoletana (Pheasant)
No. 143. Fagiano alla Perigo (Pheasant)
No. 144. Anitra Selvatica (Wild Duck)
No. 145. Perniciotti alla Gastalda (Partridges)
No. 146. Beccaccini alla Diplomatica (Snipe)
No. 147. Piccioni alla minute (Pigeons)
No. 148. Piccioni in Ripieno (Stuffed Pigeons)
No. 149. Lepre in istufato (Stewed Hare)
No. 150. Lepre Agro-dolce (Hare)
No. 151. Coniglio alla Provenzale (Rabbit)
No. 152. Coniglio arrostito alla Corradino (Roast Rabbit)
No. 153. Coniglio in salsa Piccante (Rabbit)
No. 154. Asparagi alla salsa Suprema (Asparagus)
No. 155. Cavoli di Bruxelles alla Savoiarda (Brussels Sprouts)
No. 156. Barbabietola alla Parmigiana (Beetroot)
No. 157. Fave alla Savoiarda (Beans)
No. 158. Verze alla Capuccina (Cabbage)
No. 159. Cavoli fiodi alla Lionese (Cauliflower)
No. 160. Cavoli fiodi fritti (Cauliflower)
No. 161. Cauliflower alla Parmigiana
No. 163. Sedani alla Parmigiana (Celery)
No. 164. Sedani fritti all'Italiana (Celery)
No. 165. Cetriuoli alla Parmigiana (Cucumber)
No. 166. Cetriuoli alla Borghese (Cucumber)
No. 167. Carote al sughillo (Carrots)
No. 168. Carote e piselli alla panna (Carrots and Peas)
No. 169. Verze alla Certosine (Cabbage)
No. 170. Lattughe al sugo (Lettuce)
No. 171 Lattughe farcite alla Genovese (Lettuce)
No. 172. Funghi cappelle infarcite (Stuffed Mushrooms)
No. 173. Verdure miste (Macedoine of Vegetables)
No. 174. Patate alla crema (Potatoes in cream)
No. 175. Cestelline di patate alla giardiniera (Potatoes)
No. 176. Patate al Pomidoro (Potatoes with Tomato Sauce)
No. 177. Spinaci alla Milanese (Spinach)
No. 178. Insalata di patate (Potato salad)
No. 179. Insalata alla Navarino (Salad)
No. 180. Insalata di pomidoro (Tomato Salad)
No. 181. Tartufi alla Dino (Truffles)
Macaroni, Rice, Polenta, and Other Italian Pastes
No. 182. Macaroni with Tomatoes
No. 183. Macaroni alla Casalinga
No. 185. Macaroni alla Livornese
No. 186. Tagliarelle and Lobster
No. 191. Risotto alla Genovese
No. 192. Risotto alla Spagnuola
No. 193. Risotto alla Capuccina
No. 194. Risotto alla Parigina
No. 196. Ravioli alla Fiorentina
No. 198. Gnocchi alla Lombarda
No. 199. Frittata di Riso (Savoury Rice Pancake)
Omelettes And Other Egg Dishes
No. 200. Uova al Tartufi (Eggs with Truffles)
No. 201. Uova al Pomidoro (Eggs and Tomatoes)
No. 202. Uova ripiene (Canapes of Egg)
No. 203. Uova alla Fiorentina (Eggs)
No. 204. Uova in fili (Egg Canapes)
No. 205. Frittata di funghi (Mushroom Omelette)
No. 206. Frittata con Pomidoro (Tomato Omelette)
No. 207. Frittata con Asparagi (Asparagus Omelette)
No. 208. Frittata con erbe (Omelette with Herbs)
No. 209. Frittata Montata (Omelette Souffle)
No. 210. Frittata di Prosciutto (Ham Omelette)
No. 212. Crema rappresa (Coffee Cream)
No. 213. Crema Montata alle Fragole (Strawberry Cream)
No. 214. Croccante di Mandorle (Cream Nougat)
No. 215. Crema tartara alla Caramella (Caramel Cream)
No. 219. Amaretti leggieri (Almond Cakes)
No. 224. Pan-forte di Siena (Sienese Hardbake)
New Century Sauce
No. 226. Sauce Piquante (for Meat, Fowl, Game, Rabbit, &c.)
No. 227. Sauce for Venison, Hare, &c.
No. 228. Tomato Sauce Piquante
No. 229. Sauce for Roast Pork, Ham, &c.
CONTENTS
No. 1. Espagnole, or Brown Sauce
No. 4. Mirepoix Sauce (for masking)
No. 7. Ham Sauce, Salsa di Prosciutto
No. 13. Neapolitan Anchovy Sauce
No. 14. Roman Sauce (Salsa Agro-dolce)
No. 15. Roman Sauce (another way)
No. 17. Pasta marinate (For masking Italian Frys)
No. 20. Zuppa Primaverile (Spring Soup)
No. 33. Zuppa d' Erbe (Lettuce Soup)
No. 34. Zuppa Regina di Riso (Queen's Soup)
No. 35. A Condiment for Seasoning Minestre, &c.
No. 36. Minestra alla Casalinga
No. 37. Minestra of Rice and Turnips
No. 38. Minestra alla Capucina
No. 40. Minestrone alla Milanese
No. 41. Minestra of Rice and Cabbage
No. 42. Minestra of Rice and Celery
No. 43. Anguilla alla Milanese (Eels).
No. 44. Filletti di Pesce alla Villeroy (Fillets of Fish)
No. 45. Astachi all'Italiana (Lobster)
No. 46. Baccala alla Giardiniera (Cod)
No. 47. Triglie alla Marinara (Mullet)
No. 51. Merluzzo in Bianco (Cod)
No. 52. Merluzzo in Salamoia (Cod)
No. 53. Baccala in Istufato (Haddock)
No. 54. Naselli con Piselli (Whiting)
No. 55. Ostriche alla Livornese (Oysters)
No. 56. Ostriche alla Napolitana (Oysters)
No. 57. Ostriche alla Veneziana (Oysters)
No. 58. Pesci diversi alla Casalinga (Fish)
No. 59. Pesce alla Genovese (Sole or Turbot)
No. 60. Sogliole in Zimino (Sole)
No. 61. Sogliole al tegame (Sole)
No. 62. Sogliole alla Livornese (Sole)
No. 63. Sogliole alla Veneziana (Sole)
No. 64. Sogliole alla Parmigiana (Sole).*
No. 65. Salmone alla Genovese (Salmon)
No. 66. Salmone alla Perigo (Salmon)
No. 67. Salmone alla giardiniera (Salmon)
No. 68. Salmone alla Farnese (Salmon)
No. 69. Salmone alla Santa Fiorentina (Salmon)
No. 70. Salmone alla Francesca (Salmon)
No. 71. Fillets of Salmon in Papiliotte
No. 72. Manzo alla Certosina (Fillet of Beef)
No. 73. Stufato alla Florentina (Stewed Beef)
No. 74. Coscia di Manzo al Forno (Rump Steak)
No. 75. Polpettine alla Salsa Piccante (Beef Olives)
No. 76. Stufato alla Milanese (Stewed Beef)
No. 77. Manzo Marinato Arrosto (Marinated Beef)
No. 78. Manzo con sugo di Barbabietole (Fillet of Beef)
No. 79. Manzo in Insalata (Marinated Beef)
No. 80. Filetto di Bue con Pistacchi (Fillets of Beef with Pistacchios)
No. 81. Scalopini di Riso (Beef with Risotto)
No. 82. Tenerumi alla Piemontese (Tendons of Veal)
No. 83. Bragiuole di Vitello (Veal Cutlets)
No. 84. Costolette alla Manza (Veal Cutlets)
No. 85. Vitello alla Pellegrina (Breast of Veal)
No. 86. Frittura Piccata al Marsala (Fillet of Veal)
No. 87. Polpettine Distese (Veal Olives)
No. 88. Coste di Vitello Imboracciate (Ribs of Veal)
No. 89. Costolette di Montone alla Nizzarda (Mutton Cutlets)
No. 90. Petto di Castrato all'Italiana (Breast of Mutton)
No. 91. Petto di Castrato alla Salsa piccante (Breast of Mutton)
No. 92. Tenerumi d'Agnello alla Villeroy (Tendons of Lamb)
No. 93. Tenerumi d' Agnello alla Veneziana (Tendons of Lamb)
No. 94. Costolette d' Agnello alla Costanza (Lamb Cutlets)
Tongue, Sweetbread, Calf's Head, Liver, Sucking Pig, &C.
No. 96. Timballo alla Lombarda
No. 97. Lingua alla Visconti (Tongue)
No. 98. Lingua di Manzo al Citriuoli (Tongue with Cucumber)
No. 99. Lingue di Castrato alla Cuciniera (Sheep's Tongues)
No. 100. Lingue di Vitello all'Italiana (Calves' Tongues)
No. 101. Porcelletto alla Corradino (Sucking Pig)
No. 102. Porcelletto da Latte in Galantina (Sucking Pig)
No. 104. Ateletti alla Genovese
No. 105. Testa di Vitello alla Sorrentina (Calf's Head)
No. 106. Testa di Vitello con Salsa Napoletana (Calf's Head)
No. 107. Testa di Vitello alla Pompadour (Calf's Head)
No. 108. Testa di Vitello alla Sanseverino (Calf's Head)
No. 109. Testa di Vitello in Frittata (Calf's Head)
No. 110. Zampetti (Calves' Feet)
No. 112. Animelle alla Parmegiana (Sweetbread)
No. 113. Animelle in Cartoccio (Sweetbread)
No. 114. Animelle all'Italiana (Sweetbread)
No. 115. Animelle Lardellate (Sweetbread)
No. 116. Frittura di Bottoni e di Animelle (Sweetbread and Mushrooms)
No. 117. Cervello in Fili serbe (Calf's Brains)
No. 118. Cervello alla Milanese (Calf's Brains)
No. 119. Cervello alla Villeroy (Calf's Brains)
No. 120. Frittura of Liver and Brains
No. 121. Cervello in Frittata Montano (Calf's Brains)
No. 122. Marinata di Cervello alla Villeroy (Calf's Brains)
No. 123. Minuta alla Milanese (Lamb's Sweetbread)
No. 124. Animelle al Sapor di Targone (Lamb's Fry)
No. 125. Fritto Misto alla Villeroy
No. 126. Fritto Misto alla Piemontese
No. 127. Minuta di Fegatini (Ragout of Fowls' Livers)
No. 128. Minuta alla Visconti (Chickens' Livers)
No. 129. Croutons alla Principesca
Fowl, Duck, Game, Hare, Rabbit, &c.
No. 131. Soffiato di Cappone (Fowl Souffle)
No. 132. Pollo alla Fiorentina (Chicken)
No. 133. Pollo all'Oliva (Chicken)
No. 134. Pollo alla Villereccia (Chicken)
No. 135. Pollo alla Cacciatora (Chicken)
No. 136. Pollastro alla Lorenese (Fowl)
No. 137. Pollastro in Fricassea al Burro (Fowl)
No. 138. Pollastro in istufa di Pomidoro (Braized Fowl)
No. 139. Cappone con Riso (Capon with Rice)
No. 140. Dindo Arrosto alla Milanese (Roast Turkey)
No. 141. Tacchinotto all'Istrione (Turkey Poult)
No. 142. Fagiano alla Napoletana (Pheasant)
No. 143. Fagiano alla Perigo (Pheasant)
No. 144. Anitra Selvatica (Wild Duck)
No. 145. Perniciotti alla Gastalda (Partridges)
No. 146. Beccaccini alla Diplomatica (Snipe)
No. 147. Piccioni alla minute (Pigeons)
No. 148. Piccioni in Ripieno (Stuffed Pigeons)
No. 149. Lepre in istufato (Stewed Hare)
No. 150. Lepre Agro-dolce (Hare)
No. 151. Coniglio alla Provenzale (Rabbit)
No. 152. Coniglio arrostito alla Corradino (Roast Rabbit)
No. 153. Coniglio in salsa Piccante (Rabbit)
No. 154. Asparagi alla salsa Suprema (Asparagus)
No. 155. Cavoli di Bruxelles alla Savoiarda (Brussels Sprouts)
No. 156. Barbabietola alla Parmigiana (Beetroot)
No. 157. Fave alla Savoiarda (Beans)
No. 158. Verze alla Capuccina (Cabbage)
No. 159. Cavoli fiodi alla Lionese (Cauliflower)
No. 160. Cavoli fiodi fritti (Cauliflower)
No. 161. Cauliflower alla Parmigiana
No. 163. Sedani alla Parmigiana (Celery)
No. 164. Sedani fritti all'Italiana (Celery)
No. 165. Cetriuoli alla Parmigiana (Cucumber)
No. 166. Cetriuoli alla Borghese (Cucumber)
No. 167. Carote al sughillo (Carrots)
No. 168. Carote e piselli alla panna (Carrots and Peas)
No. 169. Verze alla Certosine (Cabbage)
No. 170. Lattughe al sugo (Lettuce)
No. 171 Lattughe farcite alla Genovese (Lettuce)
No. 172. Funghi cappelle infarcite (Stuffed Mushrooms)
No. 173. Verdure miste (Macedoine of Vegetables)
No. 174. Patate alla crema (Potatoes in cream)
No. 175. Cestelline di patate alla giardiniera (Potatoes)
No. 176. Patate al Pomidoro (Potatoes with Tomato Sauce)
No. 177. Spinaci alla Milanese (Spinach)
No. 178. Insalata di patate (Potato salad)
No. 179. Insalata alla Navarino (Salad)
No. 180. Insalata di pomidoro (Tomato Salad)
No. 181. Tartufi alla Dino (Truffles)
Macaroni, Rice, Polenta, and Other Italian Pastes
No. 182. Macaroni with Tomatoes
No. 183. Macaroni alla Casalinga
No. 185. Macaroni alla Livornese
No. 186. Tagliarelle and Lobster
No. 191. Risotto alla Genovese
No. 192. Risotto alla Spagnuola
No. 193. Risotto alla Capuccina
No. 194. Risotto alla Parigina
No. 196. Ravioli alla Fiorentina
No. 198. Gnocchi alla Lombarda
No. 199. Frittata di Riso (Savoury Rice Pancake)
Omelettes And Other Egg Dishes
No. 200. Uova al Tartufi (Eggs with Truffles)
No. 201. Uova al Pomidoro (Eggs and Tomatoes)
No. 202. Uova ripiene (Canapes of Egg)
No. 203. Uova alla Fiorentina (Eggs)
No. 204. Uova in fili (Egg Canapes)
No. 205. Frittata di funghi (Mushroom Omelette)
No. 206. Frittata con Pomidoro (Tomato Omelette)
No. 207. Frittata con Asparagi (Asparagus Omelette)
No. 208. Frittata con erbe (Omelette with Herbs)
No. 209. Frittata Montata (Omelette Souffle)
No. 210. Frittata di Prosciutto (Ham Omelette)
No. 212. Crema rappresa (Coffee Cream)
No. 213. Crema Montata alle Fragole (Strawberry Cream)
No. 214. Croccante di Mandorle (Cream Nougat)
No. 215. Crema tartara alla Caramella (Caramel Cream)
No. 219. Amaretti leggieri (Almond Cakes)
No. 224. Pan-forte di Siena (Sienese Hardbake)
New Century Sauce
No. 226. Sauce Piquante (for Meat, Fowl, Game, Rabbit, &c.)
No. 227. Sauce for Venison, Hare, &c.
No. 228. Tomato Sauce Piquante
No. 229. Sauce for Roast Pork, Ham, &c.
PART I. THE COOK'S DECAMERON
Prologue
The Marchesa di Sant'Andrea finished her early morning cup of tea, and then took up the batch of correspondence which her maid had placed on the tray. The world had a way of treating her in kindly fashion, and hostile or troublesome letters rarely veiled their ugly faces under the envelopes addressed to her; wherefore the perfection of that pleasant half-hour lying between the last sip of tea and the first step to meet the new day was seldom marred by the perusal of her morning budget. The apartment which she graced with her seemly presence was a choice one in the Mayfair Hotel, one which she had occupied for the past four or five years during her spring visit to London; a visit undertaken to keep alive a number of pleasant English friendships which had begun in Rome or Malta. London had for her the peculiar attraction it has for so many Italians, and the weeks she spent upon its stones were commonly the happiest of the year.
The Marchesa di Sant'Andrea finished her early morning cup of tea and then picked up the stack of letters her maid had placed on the tray. The world treated her kindly, and hostile or troubling letters rarely hid their ugly faces under the envelopes addressed to her. As a result, that delightful half-hour between her last sip of tea and the first step into the new day was seldom spoiled by reading her morning mail. The apartment she occupied at the Mayfair Hotel was a lovely one, and she had stayed there for the past four or five years during her springtime visits to London. These visits were meant to nurture a number of enjoyable English friendships that had started in Rome or Malta. London had a special allure for her, just as it does for many Italians, and the weeks she spent walking its streets were usually the happiest of the year.
The review she took of her letters before breaking the seals first puzzled her, and then roused certain misgivings in her heart. She recognised the handwriting of each of the nine addresses, and at the same time recalled the fact that she was engaged to dine with every one of the correspondents of this particular morning. Why should they all be writing to her? She had uneasy forebodings of postponement, and she hated to have her engagements disturbed; but it was useless to prolong suspense, so she began by opening the envelope addressed in the familiar handwriting of Sir John Oglethorpe, and this was what Sir John had to say—
The review she made of her letters before breaking the seals initially confused her, and then stirred up some concerns in her heart. She recognized the handwriting of each of the nine addresses and also remembered that she had plans to have dinner with each of the senders that very evening. Why were they all writing to her? She felt uneasy about possible cancellations, and she despised having her plans disrupted; but it was pointless to keep waiting, so she started by opening the envelope addressed in the familiar script of Sir John Oglethorpe, and this is what Sir John had to say—
"My Dear Marchesa, words, whether written or spoken, are powerless to express my present state of mind. In the first place, our dinner on Thursday is impossible, and in the second, I have lost Narcisse and forever. You commented favourably upon that supreme of lobster and the Ris de Veau a la Renaissance we tasted last week, but never again will you meet the handiwork of Narcisse. He came to me with admirable testimonials as to his artistic excellence; with regard to his moral past I was, I fear, culpably negligent, for I now learn that all the time he presided over my stewpans he was wanted by the French police on a charge of murdering his wife. A young lady seems to have helped him; so I fear Narcisse has broken more than one of the commandments in this final escapade. The truly great have ever been subject to these momentary aberrations, and Narcisse being now in the hands of justice—so called—our dinner must needs stand over, though not, I hope, for long. Meantime the only consolation I can perceive is the chance of a cup of tea with you this afternoon."
My Dear Marchesa, words, whether written or spoken, can’t capture what I’m feeling right now. First of all, our dinner on Thursday is off, and on top of that, I've lost Narcisse forever. You mentioned how much you enjoyed the incredible lobster and the Ris de Veau a la Renaissance we had last week, but you won’t ever experience Narcisse’s cooking again. He came to me with great recommendations for his skills, but regarding his background, I was, I'm afraid, quite negligent, as I’ve just learned that while he was cooking for me, he was wanted by the French police for murdering his wife. A young woman apparently assisted him; it seems Narcisse has broken more than one commandment in this latest mess. Truly great people have always had these momentary lapses, and now that Narcisse is in the hands of the so-called justice, we’ll have to postpone our dinner, although I hope it won’t be for long. In the meantime, the only comfort I see is the possibility of sharing a cup of tea with you this afternoon.
"J. O."
"J. O."
Sir John Oglethorpe had been her husband's oldest and best friend. He and the Marchesa had first met in Sardinia, where they had both of them gone in pursuit of woodcock, and since the Marchesa had been a widow, she and Sir John had met either in Rome or in London every year. The dinner so tragically manque had been arranged to assemble a number of Anglo-Italian friends; and, as Sir John was as perfect as a host as Narcisse was as a cook, the disappointment was a heavy one. She threw aside the letter with a gesture of vexation, and opened the next.
Sir John Oglethorpe had been her husband's oldest and closest friend. He and the Marchesa had first met in Sardinia, where they both went to hunt woodcock, and since the Marchesa became a widow, she and Sir John had met every year in either Rome or London. The dinner that had gone so disastrously wrong was meant to bring together a group of Anglo-Italian friends; and since Sir John was as great a host as Narcisse was a cook, the disappointment was hard to bear. She tossed aside the letter with a gesture of frustration and opened the next one.
"Sweetest Marchesa," it began, "how can I tell you my grief at having to postpone our dinner for Friday. My wretched cook (I gave her seventy-five pounds a year), whom I have long suspected of intemperate habits, was hopelessly inebriated last night, and had to be conveyed out of the house by my husband and a dear, devoted friend who happened to be dining with us, and deposited in a four-wheeler. May I look in tomorrow afternoon and pour out my grief to you? Yours cordially,
"Dearest Marchesa," it started, "how can I express my sadness about having to postpone our dinner on Friday? My awful cook (I pay her seventy-five pounds a year), who I've long suspected has a drinking problem, was completely drunk last night. My husband and a dear friend who was dining with us had to carry her out of the house and put her in a cab. Can I come by tomorrow afternoon to share my worries with you? Sincerely yours,
"Pamela St. Aubyn Fothergill."
"Pamela St. Aubyn Fothergill."
When the Marchesa had opened four more letters, one from Lady Considine, one from Mrs. Sinclair, one from Miss Macdonnell, and one from Mrs. Wilding, and found that all these ladies were obliged to postpone their dinners on account of the misdeeds of their cooks, she felt that the laws of average were all adrift. Surely the three remaining letters must contain news of a character to counterbalance what had already been revealed, but the event showed that, on this particular morning, Fortune was in a mood to strike hard. Colonel Trestrail, who gave in his chambers carefully devised banquets, compounded by a Bengali who was undoubtedly something of a genius, wrote to say that this personage had left at a day's notice, in order to embrace Christianity and marry a lady's-maid who had just come into a legacy of a thousand pounds under the will of her late mistress. Another correspondent, Mrs. Gradinger, wrote that her German cook had announced that the dignity of womanhood was, in her opinion, slighted by the obligation to prepare food for others in exchange for mere pecuniary compensation. Only on condition of the grant of perfect social equality would she consent to stay, and Mrs. Gradinger, though she held advanced opinions, was hardly advanced far enough to accept this suggestion. Last of all, Mr. Sebastian van der Roet was desolate to announce that his cook, a Japanese, whose dishes were, in his employer's estimation, absolute inspirations, had decamped and taken with him everything of value he could lay hold of; and more than desolate, that he was forced to postpone the pleasure of welcoming the Marchesa di Sant' Andrea at his table.
When the Marchesa opened four more letters, one from Lady Considine, one from Mrs. Sinclair, one from Miss Macdonnell, and one from Mrs. Wilding, and found that all these women had to cancel their dinners due to their cooks' blunders, she felt that the laws of averages were completely out of whack. Surely the three remaining letters had to contain news that would offset what she had just read, but as it turned out, on that particular morning, luck was not on her side. Colonel Trestrail, who hosted meticulously planned banquets created by a Bengali chef who was undoubtedly a bit of a genius, wrote to say that this chef had left on a day's notice to embrace Christianity and marry a lady's maid who had just inherited a thousand pounds from her late employer. Another letter from Mrs. Gradinger stated that her German cook had declared that the dignity of womanhood was, in her view, undermined by the requirement to cook for others in exchange for money. She would only agree to stay if granted complete social equality, and Mrs. Gradinger, despite her progressive views, wasn’t quite ready to accept that proposal. Finally, Mr. Sebastian van der Roet was dismayed to announce that his Japanese cook, whose dishes he considered pure genius, had fled with everything valuable he could take; and to make matters worse, he had to postpone the pleasure of welcoming the Marchesa di Sant' Andrea at his table.
When she had finished reading this last note, the Marchesa gathered the whole mass of her morning's correspondence together, and uttering a few Italian words which need not be translated, rolled it into a ball and hurled the same to the farthest corner of the room. "How is it," she ejaculated, "that these English, who dominate the world abroad, cannot get their food properly cooked at home? I suppose it is because they, in their lofty way, look upon cookery as a non-essential, and consequently fall victims to gout and dyspepsia, or into the clutches of some international brigandaccio, who declares he is a cordon bleu. One hears now and again pleasant remarks about the worn-out Latin races, but I know of one Latin race which can do better than this in cookery." And having thus delivered herself, the Marchesa lay back on the pillows and reviewed the situation.
When she finished reading the last note, the Marchesa gathered all her morning correspondence and, with a few untranslated Italian words, rolled it into a ball and threw it into the farthest corner of the room. "How is it," she exclaimed, "that these English, who dominate the world abroad, can’t get their food properly cooked at home? I guess it’s because they, in their lofty way, see cooking as non-essential, and as a result, end up suffering from gout and indigestion, or falling into the hands of some so-called culinary expert claiming to be a master chef. People often make pleasant comments about the tired Latin races, but I know of one Latin race that can do better than this in cooking." After saying this, the Marchesa leaned back on the pillows and reconsidered the situation.
She was sorry in a way to miss the Colonel's dinner. The dishes which the Bengali cook turned out were excellent, but the host himself was a trifle dictatorial and too fond of the sound of his own voice, while certain of the inevitable guests were still worse. Mrs. Gradinger's letter came as a relief; indeed the Marchesa had been wondering why she had ever consented to go and pretend to enjoy herself by eating an ill-cooked dinner in company with social reformers and educational prigs. She really went because she liked Mr. Gradinger, who was as unlike his wife as possible, a stout youth of forty, with a breezy manner and a decided fondness for sport. Lady Considine's dinners were indifferent, and the guests were apt to be a bit too smart and too redolent of last season's Monte Carlo odour. The Sinclairs gave good dinners to perfectly selected guests, and by reason of this virtue, one not too common, the host and hostess might be pardoned for being a little too well satisfied with themselves and with their last new bibelot. The Fothergill dinners were like all other dinners given by the Fothergills of society. They were costly, utterly undistinguished, and invariably graced by the presence of certain guests who seemed to have been called in out of the street at the last moment. Van der Roet's Japanese menus were curious, and at times inimical to digestion, but the personality of the host was charming. As to Sir John Oglethorpe, the question of the dinner postponed troubled her little: another repast, the finest that London's finest restaurant could furnish, would certainly be forthcoming before long. In Sir John's case, her discomposure took the form of sympathy for her friend in his recent bereavement. He had been searching all his life for a perfect cook, and he had found, or believed he had found, such an one in Narcisse; wherefore the Marchesa was fully persuaded that, if that artist should evade the guillotine, she would again taste his incomparable handiwork, even though he were suspected of murdering his whole family as well as the partner of his joys.
She felt a bit bad about missing the Colonel's dinner. The food that the Bengali chef made was outstanding, but the host was a bit bossy and loved to hear himself talk, and some of the usual guests were even worse. Mrs. Gradinger's letter was a relief; in fact, the Marchesa had been questioning why she ever agreed to go and pretend to enjoy a poorly cooked dinner in the company of social reformers and self-important academics. She really only went because she liked Mr. Gradinger, who was nothing like his wife—he was a hefty forty-year-old with a cheerful demeanor and a real passion for sports. Lady Considine's dinners were mediocre, and the guests tended to be a bit too flashy and carried that stale Monte Carlo vibe from last season. The Sinclairs hosted great dinners with perfectly chosen guests, and because of this rare quality, the host and hostess could be forgiven for being a little too pleased with themselves and their latest fancy knickknack. The Fothergill dinners were like all other gatherings held by the Fothergills of society. They were expensive, completely unremarkable, and usually included some guests who seemed to have been picked up off the street at the last minute. Van der Roet's Japanese menus were interesting, though sometimes hard to digest, but the host’s personality was delightful. As for Sir John Oglethorpe, she hardly worried about missing his dinner: another meal, the best that London’s top restaurant could offer, would surely come around soon. With Sir John, her concern was more about feeling sympathy for her friend after his recent loss. He had been looking for the perfect chef his whole life and believed he had found one in Narcisse; therefore, the Marchesa was convinced that if that chef managed to avoid the guillotine, she would once again get to enjoy his incredible cooking—even if he was suspected of having murdered his entire family along with his partner in crime.
That same afternoon a number of the balked entertainers foregathered in the Marchesa's drawing-room, the dominant subject of discourse being the approaching dissolution of London society from the refusal of one human to cook food for another. Those present were gathered in two groups. In one the Colonel, in spite of the recent desertion of his Oriental, was asserting that the Government should be required to bring over consignments of perfectly trained Indian cooks, and thus trim the balance between dining room and kitchen; and to the other Mrs. Gradinger, a gaunt, ill-dressed lady in spectacles, with a commanding nose and dull, wispy hair, was proclaiming in a steady metallic voice, that it was absolutely necessary to double the school rate at once in order to convert all the girls and some of the boys as well, into perfectly equipped food-cooking animals; but her audience gradually fell away, and in an interval of silence the voice of the hostess was heard giving utterance to a tentative suggestion.
That same afternoon, several frustrated entertainers gathered in the Marchesa's living room, with the main topic of conversation being the impending collapse of London society due to one person’s refusal to cook for another. The group was split into two. In one group, the Colonel, despite recently losing his Oriental cook, was insisting that the Government should import trained Indian chefs to balance the dining room and kitchen. Meanwhile, Mrs. Gradinger, a thin, poorly dressed woman in glasses with a prominent nose and dull, wispy hair, was asserting in a steady, metallic tone that it was essential to double the school rate immediately to turn all the girls and some boys into fully capable cooks. However, her audience gradually drifted away, and during a moment of silence, the hostess’s voice was heard making a tentative suggestion.
"But, my dear, it is inconceivable that the comfort and the movement of society should depend on the humours of its servants. I don't blame them for refusing to cook if they dislike cooking, and can find other work as light and as well paid; but, things being as they are, I would suggest that we set to work somehow to make ourselves independent of cooks."
"But, my dear, it's hard to believe that the comfort and progress of society should rely on the whims of its servants. I can't fault them for not wanting to cook if they don't enjoy it and can find other jobs that are just as easy and pay well; however, given the situation, I propose we find a way to become independent of cooks."
"That 'somehow' is the crux, my dear Livia," said Mrs. Sinclair. "I have a plan of my own, but I dare not breathe it, for I'm sure Mrs. Gradinger would call it 'anti-social,' whatever that may mean."
"That 'somehow' is the key point, my dear Livia," said Mrs. Sinclair. "I have my own plan, but I can't say it out loud because I'm sure Mrs. Gradinger would label it 'anti-social,' whatever that even means."
"I should imagine that it is a term which might be applied to any scheme which robs society of the ministrations of its cooks," said Sir John.
"I would think it's a term that could be used for any plan that takes away the services of its cooks," said Sir John.
"I have heard mathematicians declare that what is true of the whole is true of its parts," said the Marchesa. "I daresay it is, but I never stopped to inquire. I will amplify on my own account, and lay down that what is true of the parts must be true of the whole. I'm sure that sounds quite right. Now I, as a unit of society, am independent of cooks because I can cook myself, and if all the other units were independent, society itself would be independent—ecco!"
"I've heard mathematicians say that what’s true for the whole is also true for its parts," said the Marchesa. "I suppose that’s true, but I’ve never really thought about it. I’ll add my own twist and say that what’s true for the parts must also be true for the whole. That makes sense to me. Now, as an individual in society, I’m independent of cooks because I can cook for myself, and if everyone else were independent too, then society itself would be independent—ecco!"
"To speak in this tone of a serious science like Euclid seems rather frivolous," said Mrs. Gradinger. "I may observe—" but here mercifully the observation was checked by the entry of Mrs. St. Aubyn Fothergill.
"Talking about something as serious as Euclid in this way feels quite silly," said Mrs. Gradinger. "I should mention—" but thankfully, this comment was cut off by the arrival of Mrs. St. Aubyn Fothergill.
She was a handsome woman, always dominated by an air of serious preoccupation, sumptuously, but not tastefully dressed. In the social struggle upwards, wealth was the only weapon she possessed, and wealth without dexterity has been known to fail before this. She made efforts, indeed, to imitate Mrs. Sinclair in the elegancies of menage, and to pose as a woman of mind after the pattern of Mrs. Gradinger; but the task first named required too much tact, and the other powers of endurance which she did not possess.
She was an attractive woman, always exuding an air of serious concern, dressed richly but without much taste. In her struggle to climb the social ladder, wealth was her only tool, and we all know that having money without skill can lead to failure. She tried to emulate Mrs. Sinclair in the finer points of household management and to present herself as a woman of intellect like Mrs. Gradinger; however, the first task required too much finesse, and she lacked the resilience for the other.
"You'll have some tea, Mrs. Fothergill?" said the Marchesa. "It's so good of you to have come."
"You'll have some tea, Mrs. Fothergill?" said the Marchesa. "It's really nice of you to come."
"No, really, I can't take any tea; in fact, I couldn't take any lunch out of vexation at having to put you off, my dear Marchesa."
"No, really, I can't have any tea; actually, I couldn't even eat lunch because I was so frustrated about having to turn you down, my dear Marchesa."
"Oh, these accidents will occur. We were just discussing the best way of getting round them," said the Marchesa. "Now, dear,"—speaking to Mrs. Sinclair—"let's have your plan. Mrs. Gradinger has fastened like a leech on the Canon and Mrs. Wilding, and won't hear a word of what you have to say."
"Oh, these things happen. We were just talking about the best way to deal with them," said the Marchesa. "Now, dear,"—speaking to Mrs. Sinclair—"let's hear your plan. Mrs. Gradinger has latched onto the Canon and Mrs. Wilding and won't listen to a word you have to say."
"Well, my scheme is just an amplification of your mathematical illustrations, that we should all learn to cook for ourselves. I regard it no longer as impossible, or even difficult, since you have informed us that you are a mistress of the art. We'll start a new school of cookery, and you shall teach us all you know."
"Well, my idea is just an expansion of your math examples that we should all learn to cook for ourselves. I no longer see it as impossible or even hard, since you've told us that you're a master of the craft. We'll start a new cooking school, and you can teach us everything you know."
"Ah, my dear Laura, you are like certain English women in the hunting field. You are inclined to rush your fences," said the Marchesa with a deprecatory gesture. "And just look at the people gathered here in this room. Wouldn't they—to continue the horsey metaphor—be rather an awkward team to drive?"
"Ah, my dear Laura, you are like some English women in the hunting field. You're prone to rushing your fences," said the Marchesa with a dismissive gesture. "And just look at the people gathered here in this room. Wouldn't they—keeping with the horse analogy—be a pretty awkward team to manage?"
"Not at all, if you had them in suitable surroundings. Now, supposing some beneficent millionaire were to lend us for a month or so a nice country house, we might install you there as Mistress of the stewpans, and sit at your feet as disciples," said Mrs. Sinclair.
"Not at all, if you had them in the right environment. Now, let’s say some generous millionaire decided to lend us a nice country house for a month or so, we could make you the Mistress of the kitchen, and we’d all sit at your feet like students," said Mrs. Sinclair.
"The idea seems first-rate," said Van der Roet; "and I suppose, if we are good little boys and girls, and learn our lessons properly, we may be allowed to taste some of our own dishes."
"The idea sounds fantastic," said Van der Roet; "and I guess, if we behave ourselves and study hard, we might get to enjoy some of our own dishes."
"Might not that lead to a confusion between rewards and punishments?" said Sir John.
"Could that cause confusion between rewards and punishments?" said Sir John.
"If ever it comes to that," said Miss Macdonnell with a mischievous glance out of a pair of dark, flashing Celtic eyes, "I hope that our mistress will inspect carefully all pupils' work before we are asked to eat it. I don't want to sit down to another of Mr. Van der Roet's Japanese salads made of periwinkles and wallflowers."
"If it ever comes to that," said Miss Macdonnell with a playful look from her dark, bright Celtic eyes, "I hope our teacher will check all the students' work carefully before we have to eat it. I don't want to sit down to another of Mr. Van der Roet's Japanese salads made from periwinkles and wallflowers."
"And we must first catch our millionaire," said the Colonel.
"And first, we need to catch our millionaire," said the Colonel.
During these remarks Mrs. Fothergill had been standing "with parted lips and straining eyes," the eyes of one who is seeking to "cut in." Now came her chance. "What a delightful idea dear Mrs. Sinclair's is. We have been dreadfully extravagant this year over buying pictures, and have doubled our charitable subscriptions, but I believe I can still promise to act in a humble way the part of Mrs. Sinclair's millionaire. We have just finished doing up the 'Laurestinas,' a little place we bought last year, and it is quite at your service, Marchesa, as soon as you liketo occupy it."
During these comments, Mrs. Fothergill had been standing "with parted lips and straining eyes," like someone trying to "cut in." Now, her moment had arrived. "What a wonderful idea dear Mrs. Sinclair has! We've been really extravagant this year with buying artwork and have doubled our charitable donations, but I think I can still promise to play the role of Mrs. Sinclair's millionaire in a modest way. We just finished renovating the 'Laurestinas,' a little place we bought last year, and it’s completely available to you, Marchesa, whenever you'd like to use it."
This unlooked-for proposition almost took away the Marchesa's breath. "Ah, Mrs. Fothergill," she said, "it was Mrs. Sinclair's plan, not mine. She kindly wishes to turn me into a cook for I know not how long, just at the hottest season of the year, a fate I should hardly have chosen for myself."
This unexpected suggestion nearly left the Marchesa speechless. "Ah, Mrs. Fothergill," she said, "it was Mrs. Sinclair's idea, not mine. She generously wants to make me a cook for I don't know how long, right at the busiest time of the year—a destiny I wouldn't have picked for myself."
"My dear, it would be a new sensation, and one you would enjoy beyond everything. I am sure it is a scheme every one here will hail with acclamation," said Mrs. Sinclair. All other conversation had now ceased, and the eyes of the rest of the company were fixed on the speaker. "Ladies and gentlemen," she went on, "you have heard my suggestion, and you have heard Mrs. Fothergill's most kind and opportune offer of her country house as the seat of our school of cookery. Such an opportunity is one in ten thousand. Surely all of us—-even the Marchesa—must see that it is one not to be neglected."
"My dear, it would be a whole new experience, and one you would absolutely love. I’m sure everyone here will cheer for this idea," said Mrs. Sinclair. All other conversation had stopped, and everyone’s attention was focused on her. "Ladies and gentlemen," she continued, "you’ve heard my proposal, and you’ve also heard Mrs. Fothergill’s very generous offer of her country house as the location for our cooking school. This kind of opportunity comes around once in a blue moon. Surely, all of us—even the Marchesa—can agree that we shouldn't let it pass us by."
"I approve thoroughly," said Mrs. Gradinger; "the acquisition of knowledge, even in so material a field as that of cookery, is always a clear gain."
"I completely agree," said Mrs. Gradinger; "gaining knowledge, even in something as practical as cooking, is always a valuable benefit."
"It will give Gradinger a chance to put in a couple of days at Ascot," whispered Van der Roet.
"It will give Gradinger a chance to spend a few days at Ascot," whispered Van der Roet.
"Where Mrs. Gradinger leads, all must follow," said Miss Macdonnell. "Take the sense of the meeting, Mrs. Sinclair, before the Marchesa has time to enter a protest."
"Where Mrs. Gradinger goes, everyone must follow," said Miss Macdonnell. "Gauge the mood of the meeting, Mrs. Sinclair, before the Marchesa gets a chance to object."
"And is the proposed instructress to have no voice in the matter?" said the Marchesa, laughing.
"And is the proposed instructor not allowed to have a say in this?" said the Marchesa, laughing.
"None at all, except to consent," said Mrs. Sinclair; "you are going to be absolute mistress over us for the next fortnight, so you surely might obey just this once."
"Not at all, except to agree," said Mrs. Sinclair; "you're going to be in charge of us for the next two weeks, so you really could just go along with it this one time."
"You have been denouncing one of our cherished institutions, Marchesa," said Lady Considine, "so I consider you are bound to help us to replace the British cook by something better."
"You've been criticizing one of our beloved traditions, Marchesa," said Lady Considine, "so I think it's only fair that you help us find a better replacement for the British cook."
"If Mrs. Sinclair has set her heart on this interesting experiment. You may as well consent at once, Marchesa," said the Colonel, "and teach us how to cook, and—what may be a harder task—to teach us to eat what other aspirants may have cooked."
"If Mrs. Sinclair is determined to go ahead with this intriguing experiment, you might as well agree right away, Marchesa," said the Colonel, "and show us how to cook, and—what might be an even tougher challenge—teach us to enjoy what others have prepared."
"If this scheme really comes off," said Sir John, "I would suggest that the Marchesa should always be provided with a plate of her own up her sleeve—if I may use such an expression—so that any void in the menu, caused by failure on the part of the under-skilled or over-ambitious amateur, may be filled by what will certainly be a chef-d'oeuvre."
"If this plan actually works," said Sir John, "I would suggest that the Marchesa should always have a dish of her own ready—if I can put it that way—so that any gaps in the menu, caused by a mistake from the inexperienced or overly ambitious amateur, can be filled by what will definitely be a masterpiece."
"I shall back up Mrs. Sinclair's proposition with all my power," said Mrs. Wilding. "The Canon will be in residence at Martlebridge for the next month, and I would much rather be learning cookery under the Marchesa than staying with my brother-in-law at Ealing."
"I will support Mrs. Sinclair's proposal with all my strength," said Mrs. Wilding. "The Canon will be at Martlebridge for the next month, and I would much rather be learning to cook with the Marchesa than staying with my brother-in-law in Ealing."
"You'll have to do it, Marchesa," said Van der Roet; "when a new idea catches on like this, there's no resisting it."
"You'll have to do it, Marchesa," said Van der Roet; "when a new idea takes off like this, there's no stopping it."
"Well, I consent on one condition—that my rule shall be absolute," said the Marchesa, "and I begin my career as an autocrat by giving Mrs. Fothergill a list of the educational machinery I shall want, and commanding her to have them all ready by Tuesday morning, the day on which I declare the school open."
"Well, I agree on one condition—that my authority will be absolute," said the Marchesa. "I’ll start my reign as an autocrat by giving Mrs. Fothergill a list of the educational resources I’ll need and instructing her to have everything ready by Tuesday morning, the day I declare the school open."
A chorus of applause went up as soon as the Marchesa ceased speaking.
A round of applause broke out as soon as the Marchesa finished speaking.
"Everything shall be ready," said Mrs. Fothergill, radiant with delight that her offer had been accepted, "and I will put in a full staff of servants selected from our three other establishments."
"Everything will be ready," said Mrs. Fothergill, glowing with joy that her offer had been accepted, "and I’ll arrange a full team of staff from our three other locations."
"Would it not be as well to send the cook home for a holiday?" said the Colonel. "It might be safer, and lead to less broth being spoilt."
"Would it be a good idea to send the cook home for a break?" said the Colonel. "It might be safer and result in less broth being ruined."
"It seems," said Sir John, "that we shall be ten in number, and I would therefore propose that, after an illustrious precedent, we limit our operations to ten days. Then if we each produce one culinary poem a day we shall, at the end of our time, have provided the world with a hundred new reasons for enjoying life, supposing, of course, that we have no failures. I propose, therefore, that our society be called the 'New Decameron.'"
"It seems," said Sir John, "that we’ll have ten members, so I suggest, following a great example, that we limit our activities to ten days. If we each create one culinary poem a day, by the end of our time, we’ll have given the world a hundred new reasons to enjoy life, assuming, of course, that we have no failures. Therefore, I propose that we call our group the 'New Decameron.'"
"Most appropriate," said Miss Macdonnell, "especially as it owes its origin to an outbreak of plague—the plague in the kitchen."
"Most fitting," said Miss Macdonnell, "especially since it came about because of a outbreak of plague—the plague in the kitchen."
The First Day
On the Tuesday morning the Marchesa travelled down to the "Laurestinas," where she found that Mrs. Fothergill had been as good as her word. Everything was in perfect order. The Marchesa had notified to her pupils that they must report themselves that same evening at dinner, and she took down with her her maid, one of those marvellous Italian servants who combine fidelity with efficiency in a degree strange to the denizens of more progressive lands. Now, with Angelina's assistance, she proposed to set before the company their first dinner all'Italiana, and the last they would taste without having participated in the preparation. The real work was to begin the following morning.
On Tuesday morning, the Marchesa traveled down to the "Laurestinas," where she found that Mrs. Fothergill had kept her promise. Everything was perfectly organized. The Marchesa had informed her pupils that they needed to report for dinner that evening, and she brought along her maid, one of those amazing Italian servants who combine loyalty with efficiency in a way that's unusual for people from more advanced countries. Now, with Angelina's help, she planned to serve the group their first Italian dinner and the last one they would taste without having had a hand in the preparation. The real work was set to begin the next morning.
The dinner was both a revelation and a surprise to the majority of the company. All were well travelled, and all had eaten of the mongrel French dishes given at the "Grand" hotels of the principal Italian cities, and some of them, in search of adventures, had dined at London restaurants with Italian names over the doors, where—with certain honourable exceptions—the cookery was French, and not of the best, certain Italian plates being included in the carte for a regular clientele, dishes which would always be passed over by the English investigator, because he now read, or tried to read, their names for the first time. Few of the Marchesa's pupils had ever wandered away from the arid table d'hote in Milan, or Florence, or Rome, in search of the ristorante at which the better class of townsfolk were wont to take their colazione. Indeed, whenever an Englishman does break fresh ground in this direction, he rarely finds sufficient presence of mind to controvert the suggestions of the smiling minister who, having spotted his Inglese, at once marks down an omelette aux fines herbes and a biftek aux pommes as the only food such a creature can consume. Thus the culinary experiences of Englishmen in Italy have led to the perpetuation of the legend that the traveller can indeed find decent food in the large towns, "because the cooking there is all French, you know," but that, if he should deviate from the beaten track, unutterable horrors, swimming in oil and reeking with garlic, would be his portion. Oil and garlic are in popular English belief the inseparable accidents of Italian cookery, which is supposed to gather its solitary claim to individuality from the never-failing presence of these admirable, but easily abused, gifts of Nature.
The dinner was both an eye-opener and a surprise to most of the guests. They were all well-traveled and had tried the mixed French dishes offered at the "Grand" hotels in major Italian cities. Some had even dined at London restaurants with Italian signs, where—except for a few notable places—the food was French and not particularly good. Some Italian dishes were included on the menu for regular diners, which English visitors would often skip because they were just starting to figure out the names. Few of the Marchesa's students had ever ventured away from the bland table d'hote in Milan, Florence, or Rome, looking for the restaurants where the locals enjoyed their breakfast. In fact, whenever an Englishman does explore this option, he rarely manages to challenge the recommendations of the friendly waiter, who, upon recognizing him as an Englishman, immediately suggests an omelette with herbs and a steak with potatoes as the only meal he can handle. As a result, Englishmen's culinary experiences in Italy have helped reinforce the myth that travelers can find good food in larger towns—“because the cooking there is all French, you know”—but if they stray from the usual path, they’ll face unthinkable dishes dripping in oil and packed with garlic. Oil and garlic are widely believed in England to be inseparable from Italian cooking, which is thought to derive its unique identity solely from the constant presence of these wonderful but easily misused gifts of Nature.
"You have given us a delicious dinner, Marchesa," said Mrs. Wilding as the coffee appeared. "You mustn't think me captious in my remarks—indeed it would be most ungracious to look a gift-dinner in the—What are you laughing at, Sir John? I suppose I've done something awful with my metaphors—mixed them up somehow."
"You’ve treated us to a wonderful dinner, Marchesa," said Mrs. Wilding as the coffee was served. "Please don’t think I’m being picky with my comments—really, it would be quite rude to criticize a generous dinner—What are you laughing at, Sir John? I guess I must have messed up my metaphors—mixed them up in some way."
"Everything Mrs. Wilding mixes will be mixed admirably, as admirably, say, as that sauce which was served with the Manzo alla Certosina," Sir John replied.
"Everything Mrs. Wilding prepares will be done perfectly, just as perfectly as that sauce served with the Manzo alla Certosina," Sir John replied.
"That is said in your best style, Sir John," replied Mrs. Wilding; "but what I was going to remark was, that I, as a poor parson's wife, shall ask for some instruction in inexpensive cooking before we separate. The dinner we have just eaten is surely only within the reach of rich people."
"That’s well said, Sir John," replied Mrs. Wilding. "But what I wanted to mention is that, as the wife of a poor pastor, I would like to ask for some tips on affordable cooking before we part ways. The dinner we just had is definitely something only wealthy people can afford."
"I wish some of the rich people I dine with could manage now and then to reach a dinner as good," said the Colonel.
"I wish some of the wealthy people I have dinner with could occasionally make a meal that's as good," said the Colonel.
"I believe it is a generally received maxim, that if you want a truth to be accepted you must repeat the same in season and out, whenever you have the opportunity," said the Marchesa. "The particular truth I have now in mind is the fact that Italian cookery is the cookery of a poor nation, of people who have scant means wherewith to purchase the very inferior materials they must needs work with; and that they produce palatable food at all is, I maintain, a proof that they bring high intelligence to the task. Italian culinary methods have been developed in the struggle when the cook, working with an allowance upon which an English cook would resign at once, has succeeded by careful manipulation and the study of flavouring in turning out excellent dishes made of fish and meat confessedly inferior. Now, if we loosen the purse-strings a little, and use the best English materials, I affirm that we shall achieve a result excellent enough to prove that Italian cookery is worthy to take its stand beside its great French rival. I am glad Mrs. Wilding has given me an opportunity to impress upon you all that its main characteristics are simplicity and cheapness, and I can assure her that, even if she should reproduce the most costly dishes of our course, she will not find any serious increase in her weekly bills. When I use the word simplicity, I allude, of course, to everyday cooking. Dishes of luxury in any school require elaboration, care, and watchfulness."
"I believe it's a widely accepted idea that if you want a truth to be embraced, you need to repeat it often, whenever you get the chance," said the Marchesa. "The truth I'm thinking about right now is that Italian cooking comes from a poor nation, made by people who have limited means to buy the very basic materials they must work with. The fact that they can create tasty food at all, in my opinion, shows they apply a lot of intelligence to the task. Italian cooking techniques have developed through the struggle of cooks who, working with a budget that would make an English cook quit immediately, have managed to produce excellent dishes through careful handling and a good understanding of flavors, even when using inferior fish and meat. Now, if we loosen our budgets a bit and use the best English ingredients, I believe we can create results that prove Italian cooking deserves to be recognized alongside its great French counterpart. I'm glad Mrs. Wilding has given me a chance to highlight that its key features are simplicity and affordability, and I can assure her that even if she tries to make the most expensive dishes we discuss, she won't see a significant increase in her weekly grocery bills. When I say simplicity, I’m referring to everyday cooking. Luxurious dishes in any culinary style require detail, care, and attention."
Menu—Dinner {*}
Zuppa d'uova alla Toscana. Tuscan egg-soup.
Sogliole alla Livornese. Sole alla Livornese.
Manzo alla Certosina. Fillet of beef, Certosina sauce.
Minuta alla Milanese. Chickens' livers alla Milanese.
Cavoli fiodi ripieni. Cauliflower with forcemeat.
Cappone arrosto con insalata. Roast capon with salad.
Zabajone. Spiced custard.
Uova al pomidoro. Eggs and tomatoes.
Menu—Dinner {*}
Tuscan egg soup. Zuppa d'uova alla Toscana.
Sole alla Livornese. Sogliole alla Livornese.
Fillet of beef, Certosina sauce. Manzo alla Certosina.
Chicken livers alla Milanese. Minuta alla Milanese.
Cauliflower with meat filling. Cavoli fiodi ripieni.
Roast capon with salad. Cappone arrosto con insalata.
Spiced custard. Zabajone.
Eggs and tomatoes. Uova al pomidoro.
* The recipes for the dishes contained in all these menus
will be found in the second part of the book. The limits of
the seasons have necessarily been ignored.
* You can find the recipes for the dishes in all these menus in the second part of the book. The boundaries of the seasons have had to be overlooked.
The Second Day
Wednesday's luncheon was anticipated with some curiosity, or even searchings of heart, as in it would appear the first-fruits of the hand of the amateur. The Marchesa wisely restricted it to two dishes, for the compounding of which she requisitioned the services of Lady Considine, Mrs. Sinclair, and the Colonel. The others she sent to watch Angelina and her circle while they were preparing the vegetables and the dinner entrees. After the luncheon dishes had been discussed, they were both proclaimed admirable. It was a true bit of Italian finesse on the part of the Marchesa to lay a share of the responsibility of the first meal upon the Colonel, who was notoriously the most captious and the hardest to please of all the company; and she did even more than make him jointly responsible, for she authorised him to see to the production of a special curry of his own invention, the recipe for which he always carried in his pocket-book, thus letting India share with Italy in the honours of the first luncheon.
Wednesday's lunch was met with some curiosity, maybe even a bit of soul-searching, as it seemed to showcase the first efforts of the amateur chef. The Marchesa wisely limited it to two dishes, for which she enlisted the help of Lady Considine, Mrs. Sinclair, and the Colonel. The others were assigned to keep an eye on Angelina and her group while they prepared the vegetables and the main courses. After discussing the lunch dishes, everyone agreed they were excellent. It was a clever move by the Marchesa to share part of the responsibility for the first meal with the Colonel, who was known for being the pickiest and hardest to please of the group. She did even more than just make him a co-contributor; she gave him the go-ahead to whip up a special curry of his own creation, the recipe for which he always carried in his wallet, thus allowing India to share in the glory of the first lunch.
"My congratulations to you on your curry, Colonel Trestrail," said Miss Macdonnell. "You haven't followed the English fashion of flavouring a curry by emptying the pepper-pot into the dish?"
"My congratulations to you on your curry, Colonel Trestrail," said Miss Macdonnell. "You didn't follow the British way of seasoning a curry by dumping the entire pepper shaker into the dish, did you?"
"Pepper properly used is the most admirable of condiments," the Colonel said.
"Pepper, when used correctly, is the most impressive of seasonings," the Colonel said.
"Why this association of the Colonel and pepper?" said Van der Roet. "In this society we ought to be as nice in our phraseology as in our flavourings, and be careful to eschew the incongruous. You are coughing, Mrs. Wilding. Let me give you some water."
"Why this connection between the Colonel and pepper?" said Van der Roet. "In this society, we should be just as careful in our language as in our flavors and avoid anything that doesn't fit. You're coughing, Mrs. Wilding. Let me get you some water."
"I think it must have been one of those rare grains of the Colonel's pepper, for you must have a little pepper in a curry, mustn't you, Colonel? Though, as Miss Macdonnell says, English cooks generally overdo it."
"I think it must have been one of those rare grains of the Colonel's pepper, because you need a little pepper in a curry, right, Colonel? Though, as Miss Macdonnell says, English cooks usually overdo it."
"Vander is in one of his pleasant witty moods," said the Colonel, "but I fancy I know as much about the use of pepper as he does about the use of oil colours; and now we have, got upon art criticism, I may remark, my dear Vander, I have been reminded that you have been poaching on my ground. I saw a landscape of yours the other day, which looked as if some of my curry powder had got into the sunset. I mean the one poor blind old Wilkins bought at your last show."
"Vander is in one of his cheerful, witty moods," said the Colonel, "but I think I know just as much about using pepper as he does about using oil paints; and now that we’re on the topic of art criticism, I should mention, my dear Vander, that I’ve noticed you’ve been treading on my territory. I saw one of your landscapes the other day that looked like some of my curry powder ended up in the sunset. I’m talking about the one that the poor blind old Wilkins bought at your last show."
"Ah, but that sunset was an inspiration, Colonel, and consequently beyond your comprehension."
"Ah, but that sunset was truly inspiring, Colonel, and so it’s beyond your understanding."
"It is easy to talk of inspiration," said Sir John, "and, perhaps, now that we are debating a matter of real importance, we might spend our time more profitably than in discussing what is and what is not a good picture. Some inspiration has been brought into our symposium, I venture to affirm that the brain which devised and the hand which executed the Tenerumi di Vitello we have just tasted, were both of them inspired. In the construction of this dish there is to be recognised a breath of the same afflatus which gave us the Florentine campanile, and the Medici tombs, and the portrait of Monna Lisa. When we stand before any one of these masterpieces, we realise at a glance how keen must have been the primal insight, and how strenuous the effort necessary for the evolution of so consummate an achievement; and, with the savour of the Tenerumi di Vitello still fresh, I feel that it deserves to be added to the list of Italian capo lavori. Now, as I was not fortunate enough to be included in the pupils' class this morning, I must beg the next time the dish is presented to us—and I imagine all present will hail its renaissance with joy—that I may be allowed to lend a hand, or even a finger, in its preparation."
"It’s easy to talk about inspiration," said Sir John, "and since we’re discussing something truly important, we could spend our time more wisely than arguing over what makes a good picture. Some inspiration has definitely been brought into our discussion, and I dare say that the mind that created and the hand that made the Tenerumi di Vitello we just enjoyed were both inspired. In the making of this dish, you can recognize the same spirit that created the Florentine campanile, the Medici tombs, and the portrait of Monna Lisa. When we stand in front of any of these masterpieces, we immediately recognize how sharp the initial insight must have been and how much effort was needed to create such an incredible work; and with the taste of the Tenerumi di Vitello still fresh, I believe it deserves to be added to the list of Italian masterpieces. Now, since I wasn’t lucky enough to be part of the students' class this morning, I must ask that the next time this dish is presented to us—and I think everyone here will be excited for its return— that I might be allowed to help, even if just a little, in its preparation."
"Veal, with the possible exception of Lombard beef, is the best meat we get in Italy," said the Marchesa, "so an Italian cook, when he wants to produce a meat dish of the highest excellence, generally turns to veal as a basis. I must say that the breast of veal, which is the part we had for lunch today, is a somewhat insipid dish when cooked English fashion. That we have been able to put it before you in more palatable form, and to win for it the approval of such a connoisseur as Sir John Oglethorpe, is largely owing to the judicious use of that Italian terror—more dire to many English than paper-money or brigands—garlic."
"Veal, except maybe for Lombard beef, is the best meat we have in Italy," said the Marchesa, "so when an Italian chef wants to make a top-notch meat dish, they usually choose veal as the base. I have to admit that the breast of veal, which is what we had for lunch today, can be pretty bland when cooked in the English style. That we've managed to serve it to you in a more flavorful way, and to earn the approval of a connoisseur like Sir John Oglethorpe, is mainly due to our wise use of that Italian dread—more feared by many English than paper money or bandits—garlic."
"The quantity used was infinitesimal," said Mrs. Sinclair, "but it seems to have been enough to subdue what I once heard Sir John describe as the pallid solidity of the innocent calf."
"The amount used was tiny," said Mrs. Sinclair, "but it seems to have been enough to overcome what I once heard Sir John call the pale heaviness of the innocent calf."
"I fear the vein of incongruity in our discourse, lately noted by Van der Roet, is not quite exhausted," said Sir John. "The Colonel was up in arms on account of a too intimate association of his name with pepper, and now Mrs. Sinclair has bracketed me with the calf, a most useful animal, I grant, but scarcely one I should have chosen as a yokefellow; but this is a digression. To return to our veal. I had a notion that garlic had something to do with the triumph of the Tenerumi, and, this being the case, I think it would be well if the Marchesa were to give us a dissertation on the use of this invaluable product."
"I’m afraid the awkwardness in our conversation, which Van der Roet recently pointed out, isn’t quite over," said Sir John. "The Colonel was upset because people were linking his name too closely with pepper, and now Mrs. Sinclair has connected me with the calf, which is certainly a useful animal, I agree, but not one I would have picked as a partner; but that's a digression. Back to our veal. I had the idea that garlic played a role in the success of the Tenerumi, and if that’s true, I think it would be great if the Marchesa could give us a talk on the use of this invaluable ingredient."
"As Mrs. Sinclair says, the admixture of garlic in the dish in question was a very small one, and English people somehow never seem to realise that garlic must always be used sparingly. The chief positive idea they have of its characteristics is that which they gather from the odour of a French or Italian crowd of peasants at a railway station. The effect of garlic, eaten in lumps as an accompaniment to bread and cheese, is naturally awful, but garlic used as it should be used is the soul, the divine essence, of cookery. The palate delights in it without being able to identify it, and the surest proof of its charm is manifested by the flatness and insipidity which will infallibly characterise any dish usually flavoured with it, if by chance this dish should be prepared without it. The cook who can employ it successfully will be found to possess the delicacy of perception, the accuracy of judgment, and the dexterity of hand, which go to the formation of a great artist. It is a primary maxim, and one which cannot be repeated too often, that garlic must never be cut up and used as part of the material of any dish. One small incision should be made in the clove, which should be put into the dish during the process of cooking, and allowed to remain there until the cook's palate gives warning that flavour enough has been extracted. Then it must be taken out at once. This rule does not apply in equal degree to the use of the onion, the large mild varieties of which may be cooked and eaten in many excellent bourgeois dishes; but in all fine cooking, where the onion flavour is wanted, the same treatment which I have prescribed for garlic must be followed."
"As Mrs. Sinclair says, the amount of garlic in the dish we're talking about was very little, and English people never seem to realize that garlic should always be used in moderation. The main idea they have about it comes from the smell of a crowd of French or Italian peasants at a train station. Eating garlic in chunks along with bread and cheese is obviously terrible, but when used correctly, garlic is the heart, the divine essence, of cooking. The taste buds enjoy it without being able to pinpoint it, and the best proof of its appeal is seen in the boring and bland flavor that any dish usually seasoned with it will have if, by chance, it's made without it. The cook who can use it well demonstrates a delicacy of perception, accuracy of judgment, and skillful hands, which are essential to becoming a great artist. It’s a basic rule—one that can’t be repeated enough—that garlic should never be chopped up and used as part of a dish. You should make a small cut in the clove and add it to the dish while cooking, leaving it there until the cook’s palate signals that enough flavor has been released. Then it must be removed immediately. This rule doesn't apply as strongly to onions, as the larger, milder varieties can be cooked and enjoyed in many good everyday dishes; however, in all fine cooking where onion flavor is desired, the same treatment I’ve prescribed for garlic should be followed."
The Marchesa gave the Colonel and Lady Considine a holiday that afternoon, and requested Mrs. Gradinger and Van der Roet to attend in the kitchen to help with the dinner. In the first few days of the session the main portion of the work naturally fell upon the Marchesa and Angelina, and in spite of the inroads made upon their time by the necessary directions to the neophytes, and of the occasional eccentricities of the neophytes' energies, the dinners and luncheons were all that could be desired. The Colonel was not quite satisfied with the flavour of one particular soup, and Mrs. Gradinger was of opinion that one of the entrees, which she wanted to superintend herself, but which the Marchesa handed over to Mrs. Sinclair, had a great deal too much butter in its composition. Her conscience revolted at the action of consuming in one dish enough butter to solace the breakfast-table of an honest working man for two or three days; but the faintness of these criticisms seemed to prove that every one was well satisfied with the rendering of the menu of the day.
The Marchesa gave the Colonel and Lady Considine the afternoon off and asked Mrs. Gradinger and Van der Roet to help out in the kitchen for dinner. During the first few days of the session, most of the work naturally fell on the Marchesa and Angelina. Despite the time taken up by giving instructions to the newcomers and the occasional quirks in the newcomers' enthusiasm, the dinners and lunches were all very satisfactory. The Colonel wasn’t entirely happy with the taste of one particular soup, and Mrs. Gradinger thought one of the entrees— which she wanted to oversee herself but was assigned to Mrs. Sinclair instead—had way too much butter in it. She felt guilty about eating something that had enough butter for a decent working man's breakfast for two or three days. Still, these minor criticisms suggested that everyone else was quite pleased with the day's menu.
Menu—Lunch Tenerumi di Vitello. Breast of veal. Piccione alla minute. Pigeons, braized with liver, &c. Curry
Menu—Lunch Tenerumi di Vitello. Veal breast. Piccione alla minute. Pigeons, braised with liver, etc. Curry
Menu—Dinner Zuppa alla nazionale. Soup alla nazionale. Salmone alla Genovese. Salmon alla Genovese. Costolette alla Costanza. Mutton cutlets alla Costanza. Fritto misto alla Villeroy. Lamb's fry alla Villeroy. Lattughe al sugo. Stuffed Lettuce. Dindo arrosto alla Milanese. Roast turkey alla Milanese. Crema montata alle fragole. Strawberry cream. Tartufi alla Dino. Truffles alla Dino.
Menu—Dinner National Soup. National Soup. Genovese Salmon. Genovese Salmon. Costanza Mutton Chops. Costanza Mutton Chops. Villeroy Mixed Fry. Villeroy Mixed Fry. Stuffed Lettuce. Stuffed Lettuce. Milanese Roast Turkey. Milanese Roast Turkey. Strawberry Whipped Cream. Strawberry Whipped Cream. Dino Truffles. Dino Truffles.
The Third Day
"I observe, dear Marchesa," said Mrs. Fothergill at breakfast on Thursday morning, "that we still follow the English fashion in our breakfast dishes. I have a notion that, in this particular especially, we gross English show our inferiority to the more spirituelles nations of the Continent, and I always feel a new being after the light meal of delicious coffee and crisp bread and delicate butter the first morning I awake in dear Paris."
"I notice, dear Marchesa," Mrs. Fothergill said at breakfast on Thursday morning, "that we still stick to the English style in our breakfast foods. I think that, in this area especially, we grossly show our inferiority to the more sophisticated nations of the Continent. I always feel like a new person after a light meal of delicious coffee, crispy bread, and delicate butter on the first morning I wake up in dear Paris."
"I wonder how it happens, then, that two goes of fish, a plateful of omelette, and a round and a half of toast and marmalade are necessary to repair the waste of tissue in dear England?" Van der Roet whispered to Miss Macdonnell.
"I’m curious how it is that two servings of fish, a plate of omelette, and a round and a half of toast and marmalade are needed to recover from the depletion of nutrients in dear England?" Van der Roet whispered to Miss Macdonnell.
"It must be the gross air of England or the gross nature of the—"
"It has to be the heavy atmosphere of England or the harsh nature of the—"
The rest of Miss Macdonnell's remark was lost, as the Marchesa cried out in answer to Mrs. Fothergill, "But why should we have anything but English breakfast dishes in England? The defects of English cookery are manifest enough, but breakfast fare is not amongst them. In these England stands supreme; there is nothing to compare with them, and they possess the crowning merit of being entirely compatible with English life. I cannot say whether it may be the effect of the crossing, or of the climate on this side, or that the air of England is charged with some subtle stimulating quality, given off in the rush and strain of strenuous national life, but the fact remains that as soon as I find myself across the Channel I want an English breakfast. It seems that I am more English than certain of the English themselves, and I am sorry that Mrs. Fothergill has been deprived of her French roll and butter. I will see that you have it to-morrow, Mrs. Fothergill, and to make the illusion complete, I will order it to be sent to your room."
The rest of Miss Macdonnell's comment was drowned out when the Marchesa interrupted Mrs. Fothergill, saying, "But why should we eat anything other than English breakfast foods in England? It's clear that English cooking has its flaws, but breakfast isn’t one of them. In this regard, England excels; nothing else compares, and breakfast fits perfectly with English life. I can’t tell if it’s due to the mixture of cultures, the climate here, or if the air in England has some subtle energizing quality from the intensity of our national life, but the truth is, as soon as I’m across the Channel, I crave an English breakfast. It feels like I'm more English than some of the English themselves, and I'm sorry that Mrs. Fothergill missed out on her French roll and butter. I’ll make sure you get it tomorrow, Mrs. Fothergill, and to make the experience truly authentic, I'll have it sent to your room."
"Oh no, Marchesa, that would be giving too much trouble, and I am sure you want all the help in the house to carry out the service as exquisitely as you do," said Mrs. Fothergill hurriedly, and blushing as well as her artistic complexion would allow.
"Oh no, Marchesa, that would be too much trouble, and I'm sure you want all the help in the house to carry out the service as wonderfully as you do," said Mrs. Fothergill quickly, blushing as much as her artistic complexion would allow.
"I fancy," said Mrs. Sinclair, "that foreigners are taking to English breakfasts as well as English clothes. I noticed when I was last in Milan that almost every German or Italian ate his two boiled eggs for breakfast, the sign whereby the Englishman used to be marked for a certainty."
"I think," said Mrs. Sinclair, "that foreigners are starting to enjoy English breakfasts just like they enjoy English clothes. I noticed when I was last in Milan that almost every German or Italian had their two boiled eggs for breakfast, which used to be a sure sign of an Englishman."
"The German would probably call for boiled eggs when abroad on account of the impossibility of getting such things in his own country. No matter how often you send to the kitchen for properly boiled eggs in Germany, the result is always the same cold slush," said Mrs. Wilding; "and I regret to find that the same plague is creeping into the English hotels which are served by German waiters."
"The German would probably ask for boiled eggs when traveling abroad because it's impossible to get them in his own country. No matter how many times you request properly boiled eggs in Germany, you always end up with the same cold mush," said Mrs. Wilding; "and I’m sorry to see that the same issue is starting to show up in English hotels that have German waiters."
"That is quite true," said the Marchesa; "but in England we have no time to concern ourselves with mere boiled eggs, delicious as they are. The roll of delicacies is long enough, or even too long without them. When I am in England, I always lament that we have only seven days a week and one breakfast a day, and when I am in Italy I declare that the reason why the English have overrun the world is because they eat such mighty breakfasts. Considering how good the dishes are, I wonder the breakfasts are not mightier than they are."
"That’s absolutely true," said the Marchesa. "But in England, we don’t have time to worry about just boiled eggs, as tasty as they are. The list of delicacies is long enough, or even too long without them. When I’m in England, I always wish we had more than seven days a week and only one breakfast a day, and when I’m in Italy, I claim the reason why the English have conquered the world is because they have such big breakfasts. Given how great the dishes are, I wonder why the breakfasts aren't even bigger."
"It always strikes me that our national barrenness of ideas appears as plainly in our breakfasts as anywhere," said Mrs. Gradinger. "There is a monotony about them which—"
"It always hits me that our lack of ideas is as obvious in our breakfasts as anywhere else," said Mrs. Gradinger. "There's a sameness to them that—"
"Monotony!" interrupted the Colonel. "Why, I could dish you up a fresh breakfast every day for a month. Your conservative tendencies must be very strong, Mrs. Gradinger, if they lead you to this conclusion."
"Monotony!" interrupted the Colonel. "I could make you a new breakfast every day for a month. You must have some pretty strong conservative tendencies, Mrs. Gradinger, if you think that."
"Conservative! On the contrary, I—that is, my husband—always votes for Progressive candidates at every election," said Mrs. Gradinger, dropping into her platform intonation, at the sound of which consternation arose in every breast. "I have, moreover, a theory that we might reform our diet radically, as well as all other institutions; but before I expound this, I should like to say a few words on the waste of wholesome food which goes on. For instance, I went for a walk in the woods yesterday afternoon, where I came upon a vast quantity of fungi which our ignorant middle classes would pronounce to be poisonous, but which I—in common with every child of the intelligent working-man educated in a board school where botany is properly taught—knew to be good for food."
"Conservative! On the contrary, I—that is, my husband—always votes for Progressive candidates in every election," said Mrs. Gradinger, slipping into her platform voice, which caused a wave of shock among everyone. "I also have a theory that we could completely change our diet, along with all other institutions; but before I dive into that, I want to address the waste of perfectly good food that happens. For example, I went for a walk in the woods yesterday afternoon and saw a huge amount of mushrooms that our uninformed middle-class folks would call poisonous, but I—as well as every child of educated working-class people who learned botany properly in a public school—knew were safe to eat."
"Excuse me one moment," said Sir John, "but do they really use board-school children as tests to see whether toadstools are poisonous or not?"
"Excuse me for a moment," said Sir John, "but do they actually use kids from public schools to test if mushrooms are poisonous or not?"
"I do not think anything I said justified such an inference," said Mrs. Gradinger in the same solemn drawl; "but I may remark that the children are taught from illustrated manuals accurately drawn and coloured. Well, to come back to the fungi, I took the trouble to measure the plot on which they were growing, and found it just ten yards square. The average weight of edible fungus per square yard was just an ounce, or a hundred and twelve pounds per acre. Now, there must be at least twenty millions of acres in the United Kingdom capable of producing these fungi without causing the smallest damage to any other crop, wherefore it seems that, owing to our lack of instruction, we are wasting some million tons of good food per annum; and I may remark that this calculation pre-supposes, that each fungus springs only once in the season; but I have reason to believe that certain varieties would give five or six gatherings between May and October, so the weight produced would be enormously greater than the quantity I have named."
"I don’t think anything I said justifies such a conclusion," Mrs. Gradinger said in the same serious tone. "But I should point out that the children are taught using illustrated manuals that are accurately drawn and colored. To get back to the fungi, I took the time to measure the area where they were growing and found it was exactly ten yards square. The average weight of edible fungus per square yard was just an ounce, which adds up to about a hundred and twelve pounds per acre. There must be at least twenty million acres in the UK that could produce these fungi without harming any other crops, so it seems that due to our lack of knowledge, we’re wasting around a million tons of good food each year. And I should mention that this calculation assumes each fungus only grows once a season; however, I believe some varieties could produce five or six harvests between May and October, so the total weight produced would be much greater than what I’ve mentioned."
Here Mrs. Gradinger paused to finish her coffee, which was getting cold, and before she could resume, Sir John had taken up the parole. "I think the smaller weight will suffice for the present, until the taste for strange fungi has developed, or the pressure of population increased. And before stimulating a vastly increased supply, it will be necessary to extirpate the belief that all fungi, except the familiar mushroom, are poisonous, and perhaps to appoint an army of inspectors to see that only the right sort are brought to market."
Here Mrs. Gradinger stopped to finish her coffee, which was getting cold, and before she could continue, Sir John took the floor. "I believe the smaller amount will be enough for now, until people gain a taste for unusual mushrooms, or until the population grows. And before we encourage a much larger supply, we need to get rid of the notion that all mushrooms, except for the common one, are poisonous, and maybe even hire a team of inspectors to make sure only the right ones are sold in the market."
"Yes, and that will give pleasant and congenial employment to those youths of the working-classes who are ambitious of a higher career than that of their fathers," said Lady Considine, "and the ratepayers will rejoice, no doubt, that they are participating in the general elevation of the masses."
"Yes, and that will provide enjoyable and friendly jobs for those young people from the working class who aspire to a better future than their fathers had," said Lady Considine, "and the taxpayers will surely be pleased that they are contributing to the overall uplift of the community."
"Perhaps Mrs. Gradinger will gather a few of her less deadly fungi, and cook them and eat them herself, pour encourager les autres," said Miss Macdonnell. "Then, if she doesn't die in agonies, we may all forswear beef and live on toadstools."
"Maybe Mrs. Gradinger will pick some of her less toxic mushrooms, cook them, and eat them herself, to encourage the rest of us," said Miss Macdonnell. "Then, if she doesn’t suffer painfully, we might all give up beef and survive on toadstools."
"I certainly will," said Mrs. Gradinger; "and before we rise from table I should like—"
"I definitely will," said Mrs. Gradinger; "and before we get up from the table, I would like—"
"I fear we must hear your remarks at dinner, Mrs. Gradinger," said the Marchesa. "Time is getting on, and some of the dishes to-day are rather elaborate, so now to the kitchen."
"I think we need to hear your comments at dinner, Mrs. Gradinger," said the Marchesa. "It's getting late, and some of the dishes today are quite elaborate, so let's head to the kitchen."
Menu—Lunch. Risotto alla Genovese. Savoury rice. Pollo alla Villereccia. Chicken alla Villereccia. Lingue di Castrato alla cucinira. Sheeps' tongues alla cucinira. Menu—Dinner Zuppa alla Veneziana. Venetian soup. Sogliole alla giardiniera. Sole with Vegetables. Timballo alla Romana. Roman pie. Petto di Castrato alla salsa di burro. Breast of mutton with butter sauce. Verdure miste. Mixed vegetables. Crema rappresa. Coffee cream. Ostriche alla Veneziana. Oyster savoury.
Menu—Lunch. Risotto alla Genovese. Savory rice. Pollo alla Villereccia. Chicken alla Villereccia. Lingue di Castrato alla cucinira. Sheep tongues alla cucinira. Menu—Dinner Zuppa alla Veneziana. Venetian soup. Sogliole alla giardiniera. Sole with vegetables. Timballo alla Romana. Roman pie. Petto di Castrato alla salsa di burro. Mutton breast with butter sauce. Verdure miste. Mixed vegetables. Crema rappresa. Coffee cream. Ostriche alla Veneziana. Oyster savory.
The Fourth Day
THE Colonel was certainly the most severely critical member of the company. Up to the present juncture he had been sparing of censure, and sparing of praise likewise, but on this day, after lunch, he broke forth into loud praise of the dish of beef which appeared in the menu. After specially commending this dish he went on—
THE Colonel was definitely the most critical member of the group. Until now, he'd been careful with both his criticism and his compliments, but on this day, after lunch, he enthusiastically praised the beef dish on the menu. After giving special commendation to this dish, he continued—
"It seems to me that the dinner of yesterday and to-day's lunch bear the cachet of a fresh and admirable school of cookery. In saying this I don't wish to disparage the traditions which have governed the preparation of the delicious dishes put before us up to that date, which I have referred to as the parting of the ways, the date when the palate of the expert might detect a new hand upon the keys, a phrase once employed, I believe, with regard to some man who wrote poetry. To meet an old friend, or a thoroughly tested dish, is always pleasant, but old friends die or fall out, and old favourite dishes may come to pall at last; and for this reason I hold that the day which brings us a new friend or a new dish ought to be marked with white chalk."
"It seems to me that yesterday's dinner and today's lunch showcase a fresh and impressive style of cooking. I don't mean to undermine the traditions that have shaped the delicious meals we've enjoyed until now, which I've called the turning point—the moment when a connoisseur could sense a new touch in the cooking, a phrase I believe was once used about a poet. Meeting an old friend or enjoying a familiar dish is always nice, but old friends can fade away or drift apart, and favorite dishes can eventually lose their appeal; for this reason, I believe that a day that brings us a new friend or a new dish should be marked with a celebration."
"And I think some wise man once remarked," said Sir John, "that the discovery of a dish is vastly more important than the discovery of a star, for we have already as many stars as we can possibly require, but we can never have too many dishes."
“And I think some wise person once said,” said Sir John, “that finding a new dish is way more important than discovering a star, because we already have as many stars as we could ever need, but we can never have too many dishes.”
"I was wondering whether any one would detect the variations I made yesterday, but I need not have wondered, with such an expert at table as Colonel Trestrail," said the Marchesa with a laugh. "Well, the Colonel has found me out; but from the tone of his remarks I think I may hope for his approval. At any rate, I'm sure he won't move a vote of censure."
"I was curious if anyone would notice the changes I made yesterday, but I shouldn't have worried, with such an expert at the table as Colonel Trestrail," said the Marchesa with a laugh. "Well, the Colonel has figured me out; but from the way he spoke, I think I can expect his approval. At least, I'm sure he won't call for a vote of disapproval."
"If he does, we'll pack him off to town, and sentence him to dine at his club every day for a month," said Lady Considine.
"If he does, we'll send him off to town and make him eat at his club every day for a month," said Lady Considine.
"What crime has this particular club committed?" said Mrs. Sinclair in a whisper.
"What crime has this specific club committed?" Mrs. Sinclair whispered.
"Vote of censure! Certainly not," said the Colonel, with an angry ring in his voice. Mrs. Sinclair did not love him, and had calculated accurately the carrying power of her whisper. "That would be the basest ingratitude. I must, however, plead guilty to an attack of curiosity, and therefore I beg you, Marchesa, to let us into the secret of your latest inspiration."
"Vote of censure? Absolutely not," said the Colonel, his voice filled with anger. Mrs. Sinclair didn’t care for him and had correctly gauged how far her whisper could reach. "That would be the lowest form of ingratitude. However, I must admit I'm curious, so I ask you, Marchesa, to share the secret of your latest inspiration with us."
"Its origin was commonplace enough," said the Marchesa, "but in a way interesting. Once upon a time—more years ago than I care to remember—I was strolling about the Piazza Navona in Rome, and amusing myself by going from one barrow to another, and turning over the heaps of rubbish with which they were stocked. All the while I was innocently plagiarising that fateful walk of Browning's round the Riccardi Palace in Florence, the day when he bought for a lira the Romana homocidiorum. The world knows what was the outcome of Browning's purchase, but it will probably never fathom the full effect of mine. How do his lines run?"
"Its origin was pretty ordinary," said the Marchesa, "but in an interesting way. A long time ago—more years than I can remember—I was walking around the Piazza Navona in Rome, enjoying myself by checking out one stall after another and sifting through the heaps of stuff they had. All the while, I was unknowingly copying that famous walk of Browning's around the Riccardi Palace in Florence, the day he bought the Romana homocidiorum for a lira. The world knows what happened after Browning's purchase, but it will probably never fully understand the impact of mine. How do his lines go?"
"These
I picked the book from. Five compeers in flank
Stood left and right of it as tempting more—
A dog's-eared Spicilegium, the fond tale
O' the frail one of the Flower, by young Dumas,
Vulgarised Horace for the use of schools,
The Life, Death, Miracles of Saint Somebody,
Saint Somebody Else, his Miracles, Death and Life."
"These I picked the book from. Five friends stood beside it, tempting me more— A dog-eared collection of stories, the beloved tale Of the fragile one of the Flower, by young Dumas, Made easy to understand for schools, The Life, Death, and Miracles of Saint Somebody, Saint Somebody Else, his Miracles, Death, and Life."
"Well, the choice which lay before me on one particular barrow was fully as wide, or perhaps wider than that which met the poet's eye, but after I had espied a little yellow paper-covered book with the title La Cucina Partenopea, overo il Paradiso dei gastronomi, I looked no farther. What infinite possibilities of pleasure might lie hidden under such a name. I secured it, together with the Story of Barlaam and Josaphat, for thirty-five centesimi, and handed over the coins to the hungry-eyed old man in charge, who regretted, I am sure, when he saw the eager look upon my face, that he had not marked the books a lira at least. I should now be a rich woman if I had spent all the money I have spent as profitably as those seven sold. Besides being a master in the art of cookery, the author was a moral philosopher as well; and he addresses his reader in prefatory words which bespeak a profound knowledge of life. He writes: 'Though the time of man here on earth is passed in a never-ending turmoil, which must make him often curse the moment when he opened his eyes on such a world; though life itself must often become irksome or even intolerable, nevertheless, by God's blessing, one supreme consolation remains for this wretched body of ours. I allude to that moment when, the forces being spent and the stomach craving support, the wearied mortal sits down to face a good dinner. Here is to be found an effectual balm for the ills of life: something to drown all remembrance of our ill-humours, the worries of business, or even family quarrels. In sooth, it is only at table that a man may bid the devil fly away with Solomon and all his wisdom, and give himself up to an earthly delight, which is a pleasure and a profit at the same time.'"
"Well, the choice in front of me at one particular stall was just as broad, if not broader, than what the poet saw, but once I spotted a little yellow book with the title La Cucina Partenopea, or The Paradise of Foodies, I didn’t look any further. What amazing possibilities for enjoyment could be hidden under such a title? I bought it, along with the Story of Barlaam and Josaphat, for thirty-five centesimi, and handed over the coins to the hungry-eyed old man in charge, who I’m sure regretted seeing the eager look on my face, wishing he had priced the books at least a lira. I would be a rich woman now if I had spent all my money as wisely as I did on those seven. Besides being a master chef, the author was also a moral philosopher; he speaks to his readers in a way that shows a deep understanding of life. He writes: 'Though man's time on earth is filled with endless turmoil, which can make him often curse the moment he opened his eyes to such a world; though life can often be tedious or even unbearable, nevertheless, by God's blessing, one supreme comfort remains for this wretched body of ours. I’m talking about that moment when, with energy spent and the stomach craving sustenance, the weary soul sits down to enjoy a good dinner. Here lies an effective remedy for life's troubles: something to drown out all memories of our bad moods, the worries of work, or even family disputes. Truly, it is only at the table that a man can tell the devil to go away along with Solomon and all his wisdom, and surrender himself to a worldly pleasure, which is both enjoyable and beneficial at the same time.'"
"The circumstances under which this precious book was found seem to suggest a culinary poem on the model of the 'Ring and the Book,"' said Mrs. Sinclair, "or we might deal with the story in practical shape by letting every one of us prepare the same dish. I fancy the individual renderings of the same recipe would vary quite as widely as the versions of the unsavoury story set forth in Mr. Browning's little poem."
"The way this valuable book was discovered reminds me of a culinary poem like 'The Ring and the Book,'” said Mrs. Sinclair, “or we could tackle the story in a practical way by having each of us make the same dish. I think the different takes on the same recipe would be just as varied as the versions of the unpleasant story presented in Mr. Browning's poem."
"I think we had better have a supplementary day for a trial of the sort Mrs. Sinclair suggests," said Miss Macdonnell. "I speak with the memory of a preparation of liver I tasted yesterday in the kitchen—one of the dishes which did not appear at dinner."
"I think we should have an extra day for a trial like the one Mrs. Sinclair suggested," said Miss Macdonnell. "I'm remembering a liver dish I tried yesterday in the kitchen—one of the dishes that didn't make it to dinner."
"That is rather hard on the Colonel," said Van der Roet; "he did his best, and now, see how hard he is trying to look as if he didn't know what you are alluding to!"
"That’s pretty tough on the Colonel," said Van der Roet; "he did his best, and now, look how hard he’s trying to act like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about!"
"I never in all my life—" the Colonel began; but the Marchesa, fearing a storm, interfered. "I have a lot more to tell you about my little Neapolitan book," she went on, "and I will begin by saying that, for the future, we cannot do better than make free use of it. The author opens with an announcement that he means to give exact quantities for every dish, and then, like a true Neapolitan, lets quantities go entirely, and adopts the rule-of-thumb system. And I must say I always find the question of quantities a difficult one. Some books give exact measures, each dish being reckoned enough for four persons, with instructions to increase the measures in proportion to the additional number of diners but here a rigid rule is impossible, for a dish which is to serve by itself, as a supper or a lunch, must necessarily be bigger than one which merely fills one place in a dinner menu. Quantities can be given approximately in many cases, but flavouring must always be a question of individual taste. Latitude must be allowed, for all cooks who can turn out distinguished work will be found to be endowed with imagination, and these, being artists, will never consent to follow a rigid rule of quantity. To put it briefly, cooks who need to be told everything, will never cook properly, even if they be told more than everything. And after all, no one takes seriously the quantities given by the chef of a millionaire or a prince; witness the cook of the Prince de Soubise, who demanded fifty hams for the sauces and garnitures of a single supper, and when the Prince protested that there could not possibly be found space for them all on the table, offered to put them all into a glass bottle no bigger than his thumb. Some of Francatelli's quantities are also prodigious, as, for instance, when to make a simple glaze he calls for three pounds of gravy beef, the best part of a ham, a knuckle of veal, an old hen, and two partridges."
"I never in all my life—" the Colonel started, but the Marchesa, worried about a potential argument, cut in. "I have much more to share about my little Neapolitan book," she continued, "and I’ll begin by saying that from now on, we should freely use it. The author starts by claiming he will provide exact quantities for every dish, but, true to his Neapolitan roots, he completely ignores quantities and instead uses a rule-of-thumb approach. I have to admit, I always find figuring out quantities to be tricky. Some books give precise measurements, with each dish meant for four people and instructions to adjust the quantities based on how many extra diners there are. But here, a strict rule doesn’t work because a dish meant to be served alone, like for a supper or lunch, has to be larger than one that just fills a spot on a dinner menu. While we can give approximate quantities in many cases, seasoning will always be a matter of personal taste. We need some flexibility because any cook who produces great results will have a bit of creativity, and since they are artists, they won’t agree to stick to a strict quantity rule. To sum it up, cooks who need to be told every detail will never cook well, even if they’re told everything there is to know. Besides, no one really takes seriously the quantities shared by a chef for a millionaire or a prince; just look at the cook for the Prince de Soubise, who requested fifty hams for the sauces and garnishes of a single dinner, and when the Prince complained that there wouldn’t be room on the table for all of them, he offered to stuff them all into a glass bottle no bigger than his thumb. Some of Francatelli's measurements are also outrageous, like when he suggests using three pounds of beef for gravy, the best part of a ham, a knuckle of veal, an old hen, and two partridges just to make a simple glaze."
Menu—Lunch Maccheroni al sugillo. Macaroni with sausage and tomatoes. Manzo in insalata. Beef, pressed and marinated. Lingue di vitello all'Italiana. Calves' tongues.
Menu—Lunch Maccheroni al sugillo. Macaroni with sausage and tomatoes. Manzo in insalata. Beef, pressed and marinated. Lingue di vitello all'Italiana. Calves' tongues.
Menu—Dinner. Zuppa alla Modanese. Modenese soup. Merluzzo in salamoia. Cod with sauce piquante. Pollastro in istufa di pomidoro. Stewed chicken with tomatoes. Porcelletto farcito alla Corradino. Stuffed suckling pig. Insalata alla Navarino. Navarino salad. Bodino di semolino. Semolina pudding. Frittura di cocozze. Fried cucumber.
Menu—Dinner. Modenese soup. Zuppa alla Modanese. Cod with spicy sauce. Merluzzo in salamoia. Stewed chicken with tomatoes. Pollastro in istufa di pomidoro. Stuffed suckling pig. Porcelletto farcito alla Corradino. Navarino salad. Insalata alla Navarino. Semolina pudding. Bodino di semolino. Fried cucumbers. Frittura di cocozze.
The Fifth Day
The following day was very warm, and some half-dozen of the party wandered into the garden after lunch and took their coffee under a big chestnut tree on the lawn. "And this is the 16th of June," said Lady Considine. "Last year, on this very day, I started for Hombourg. I can't say I feel like starting for Hombourg, or any other place, just at present."
The next day was really warm, and about six people from the group headed into the garden after lunch and enjoyed their coffee under a large chestnut tree on the lawn. "And today is June 16th," said Lady Considine. "Last year, on this same day, I left for Hombourg. I can't say I feel like heading to Hombourg, or anywhere else, right now."
"But why should any one of us want to go to Hombourg?" said Sir John. "Nobody can be afraid of gout with the admirable diet we enjoy here."
"But why would any of us want to go to Hombourg?" asked Sir John. "No one can be worried about gout with the amazing diet we have here."
"I beg you to speak for yourself, Sir John," said Lady Considine. "I have never yet gone to Hombourg on account of gout."
"I urge you to speak for yourself, Sir John," Lady Considine said. "I have never gone to Hombourg because of gout."
"Of course not, my dear friend, of course not; there are so many reasons for going to Hombourg. There's the early rising, and the band, and the new people one may meet there, and the change of diet—especially the change of diet. But, you see, we have found our change of diet within an hour of London, so why—as I before remarked—should we want to rush off to Hombourg?"
"Of course not, my dear friend, of course not; there are so many reasons to go to Hombourg. There's the early rising, the band, the new people you might meet there, and the change of diet—especially the change of diet. But, you see, we’ve found our change of diet just an hour from London, so why—as I mentioned earlier—should we rush off to Hombourg?"
"I am a firm believer in that change of diet," said Mrs. Wilding, "though in the most respectable circles the true-bred Briton still talks about foreign messes, and affirms that anything else than plain British fare ruins the digestion. I must say my own digestion is none the worse for the holiday I am having from the preparations of my own 'treasure.' I think we all look remarkably well; and we don't quarrel or snap at each other, and it would be hard to find a better proof of wholesome diet than that."
"I really believe in changing up the diet," said Mrs. Wilding, "even though in the most respectable circles, true-bred Brits still complain about foreign dishes and insist that anything other than simple British food messes up digestion. I have to say my own digestion feels just fine during this break from my usual 'treasures.' I think we all look really healthy, and we aren’t fighting or snapping at each other, which is pretty solid proof of a healthy diet."
"But I fancied Mrs. Gradinger looked a little out of sorts this morning, and I'm sure she was more than a little out of temper when I asked her how soon we were to taste her dish of toadstools," said Miss Macdonnell.
"But I thought Mrs. Gradinger seemed a bit off this morning, and I'm sure she was more than a little irritated when I asked her how soon we could try her dish of toadstools," said Miss Macdonnell.
"I expect she had been making a trial of the British fungi in her bedroom," said Van der Roet; "and then, you see, our conversation isn't quite 'high toned' enough for her taste. We aren't sufficiently awake to the claims of the masses. Can any one explain to me why the people who are so full of mercy for the mass, are so merciless to the unit?"
"I bet she was experimenting with British mushrooms in her bedroom," said Van der Roet. "And you know, our conversation isn't really sophisticated enough for her. We're not quite aware of the needs of the masses. Can anyone tell me why people who are so compassionate towards the collective can be so harsh towards individuals?"
"That is her system of proselytising," said the Colonel, "and if she is content with outward conversion, it isn't a bad one. I often feel inclined to agree to any proposition she likes to put forward, and I would, if I could stop her talking by my submission."
"That’s her way of spreading her beliefs," said the Colonel, "and if she’s happy with just getting people to say they believe, it’s not a bad approach. I often feel tempted to agree with whatever she suggests, and I would, if I could just get her to stop talking by going along with it."
"You wouldn't do that, Colonel, even in your suavest mood," said Van der Roet; "but I hope somebody will succeed in checking her flow of discourse before long. I'm getting worn to a shadow by the grind of that awful voice."
"You wouldn't do that, Colonel, even if you were at your smoothest," said Van der Roet; "but I really hope someone can manage to cut her off soon. I'm getting completely worn out by the endless noise of that terrible voice."
"I thought your clothes were getting a bit loose," said the Colonel, "but I put that phenomenon down to another reason. In spite of Mrs. Wilding's praise of our present style of cooking, I don't believe our friend Vander finds it substantial enough to sustain his manly bulk, and I'll tell you the grounds of my belief. A few mornings ago, when I was shaving, I saw the butcher bring into the house a splendid sirloin, and as no sirloin has appeared at table, I venture to infer that this joint was a private affair of Vander's, and that he, as well as Mrs. Gradinger, has been going in for bedroom cookery. Here comes the Marchesa; we'll ask her to solve the mystery."
"I noticed your clothes were looking a bit loose," said the Colonel, "but I figured it was for another reason. Even though Mrs. Wilding keeps praising our current cooking style, I doubt our friend Vander finds it hearty enough to keep up his manly figure, and I’ll explain why I think that. A few mornings ago, while I was shaving, I saw the butcher bringing in a great sirloin, and since no sirloin has made it to the dinner table, I’m guessing this joint was a private matter for Vander, and he, along with Mrs. Gradinger, has been experimenting with cooking in their bedroom. Here comes the Marchesa; let’s ask her to clear up the mystery."
"I can account for the missing sirloin," said the Marchesa. "The Colonel is wrong for once. It went duly into the kitchen, and not to Mr. Van der Roet's bedroom; but I must begin with a slight explanation, or rather apology. Next to trial by jury, and the reverence paid to rank, and the horror of all things which, as poor Corney Grain used to say, 'are not nice,' I reckon the Sunday sirloin, cooked and served, one and indivisible as the typical fetish of the great English middle class. With this fact before my eyes, I can assure you I did not lightly lay a hand on its integrity. My friends, you have eaten that sirloin without knowing it. You may remember that yesterday after lunch the Colonel was loud in praise of a dish of beef. Well, that beef was a portion of the same, and not the best portion. The Manzo in insalata, which pleased the Colonel's palate, was that thin piece at the lower end, the chief function of which, when the sirloin is cooked whole, seems to lie in keeping the joint steady on the dish while paterfamilias carves it. It is never eaten in the dining-room hot, because every one justly prefers and goes for the under cut; neither does it find favour at lunch next day, for the reason that, as cold beef, the upper cut is unapproachable. I have never heard that the kitchen hankers after it inordinately; indeed, its ultimate destination is one of the unexplained mysteries of housekeeping. I hold that never, under any circumstances, should it be cooked with the sirloin, but always cut off and marinated and braized as we had it yesterday. Thus you get two hot dishes; our particular sirloin has given us three. The parts of this joint vary greatly in flavour, and in texture as well, and by accentuating this variation by treatment in the kitchen, you escape that monotony which is prone to pervade the table so long as the sirloin remains in the house. Mrs. Sinclair is sufficiently experienced as a housekeeper to know that the dish of fillets we had for dinner last night was not made from the under cut of one sirloin. It was by borrowing a little from the upper part that I managed to fill the dish, and I'm sure that any one who may have got one of the uppercut fillets had no cause to grumble. The Filetto di Bue which we had for lunch to-day was the residue of the upper cut, and, admirable as is a slice of cold beef taken from this part of the joint, I think it is an excellent variation to make a hot dish of it sometimes. On the score of economy, I am sure that a sirloin treated in this fashion goes a long way further."
"I can explain the missing sirloin," said the Marchesa. "The Colonel is mistaken this time. It went straight to the kitchen, not to Mr. Van der Roet's bedroom; but I should start with a little explanation, or rather an apology. Next to trial by jury, the respect given to status, and the dislike for all things that, as poor Corney Grain used to say, 'aren't nice,' I consider the Sunday sirloin, cooked and served, as the ultimate symbol of the great English middle class. Keeping this in mind, I assure you I didn't take its integrity lightly. My friends, you have eaten that sirloin without even realizing it. You may recall that yesterday after lunch the Colonel praised a dish of beef. Well, that beef was part of the same, and not the best part. The Manzo in insalata, which the Colonel enjoyed, was that thin piece at the bottom, which mainly serves the purpose of keeping the joint steady on the dish while the head of the family carves it. It's never eaten hot in the dining room because everyone justly prefers the undercut; it also doesn't get eaten for lunch the next day because the upper cut is unappealing when cold. I've never heard of the kitchen craving it excessively; in fact, its final destination is one of the unexplained mysteries of housekeeping. I believe it should never be cooked with the sirloin, but always cut off, marinated, and braised as we had it yesterday. This way, you get two hot dishes; our specific sirloin has given us three. The different parts of this joint vary greatly in flavor and texture, and by enhancing this variation through kitchen treatment, you avoid the monotony that tends to take over the table as long as the sirloin is around. Mrs. Sinclair is experienced enough as a housekeeper to know that the dish of fillets we had for dinner last night wasn't made from the undercut of one sirloin. I borrowed a little from the upper part to fill the dish, and I'm sure anyone who had one of the uppercut fillets had no reason to complain. The Filetto di Bue we had for lunch today was the leftover from the upper cut, and while a slice of cold beef from this part of the joint is excellent, I think it's a great idea to make a hot dish out of it sometimes. Economically speaking, I’m sure that a sirloin prepared this way goes much further."
"The Marchesa demolishes one after another of our venerable institutions with so charming a despatch that we can scarcely grieve for them," said Sir John. "I am not philosopher enough to divine what change may come over the British character when every man sits down every day to a perfectly cooked dinner. It is sometimes said that our barbarian forefathers left their northern solitudes because they hankered after the wine and delicate meats of the south, and perhaps the modern Briton may have been led to overrun the world by the hope of finding a greater variety of diet than he gets at home. It may mean, Marchesa, that this movement of yours for the suppression of English plain cooking will mark the close of our national expansion."
"The Marchesa takes down one after another of our long-standing institutions so quickly and charmingly that we can barely mourn them," said Sir John. "I'm not wise enough to guess how the British character might change when every man sits down to a perfectly cooked dinner every day. It’s said that our barbaric ancestors left their northern homes because they craved the wine and fancy foods of the south, and maybe the modern Brit is out to conquer the world in hopes of finding more diverse meals than what he gets at home. This might mean, Marchesa, that your push to eliminate traditional English cooking could signal the end of our national expansion."
"My dear Sir John, you may rest assured that your national expansion, as well as your national cookery, will continue in spite of anything we may accomplish here, and I say good luck to them both. When have I ever denied the merits of English cookery?" said the Marchesa. "Many of its dishes are unsurpassed. These islands produce materials so fine, that no art or elaboration can improve them. They are best when they are cooked quite plainly, and this is the reason why simplicity is the key-note of English cookery. A fine joint of mutton roasted to a turn, a plain fried sole with anchovy butter a broiled chop or steak or kidney, fowls or game cooked English fashion, potatoes baked in their skins and eaten with butter and salt, a rasher of Wiltshire bacon and a new-laid egg, where will you beat these? I will go so far as to say no country can produce a bourgeoises dish which can be compared with steak and kidney pudding. But the point I want to press home is that Italian cookery comes to the aid of those who cannot well afford to buy those prime qualities of meat and fish which allow of this perfectly plain treatment. It is, as I have already said, the cookery of a nation short of cash and unblessed with such excellent meat and fish and vegetables as you lucky islanders enjoy. But it is rich in clever devices of flavouring, and in combinations, and I am sure that by its help English people of moderate means may fare better and spend less than they spend now, if only they will take a little trouble."
"My dear Sir John, you can be sure that your country's growth and your culinary traditions will carry on no matter what we manage to do here, and I wish them both well. When have I ever dismissed the value of English cooking?" said the Marchesa. "Many of its dishes are unmatched. These islands provide such fine ingredients that no amount of skill or fancy techniques can improve them. They're best when cooked simply, and this is why simplicity is the hallmark of English cuisine. A perfectly roasted joint of mutton, a plain fried sole with anchovy butter, a broiled chop or steak or kidney, fowl or game prepared in the English style, potatoes baked in their skins and enjoyed with butter and salt, a slice of Wiltshire bacon and a freshly laid egg—where else can you find better? I would even say that no other country can create a dish that compares to steak and kidney pudding. However, the main point I want to emphasize is that Italian cuisine supports those who can’t afford to buy the high-quality meat and fish that can be enjoyed with such straightforward preparation. As I’ve mentioned, it’s the cooking of a nation that is low on cash and lacking the excellent meat, fish, and vegetables that you fortunate islanders have. Yet, it excels in clever flavoring techniques and combinations, and I’m sure that with its help, English people of modest means can eat better and spend less than they currently do, if only they put in a little effort."
Menu—Lunch Gnocchi alla Romana. Semolina with parmesan. Filetto di Bue al pistacchi. Fillet of beef with pistachios Bodini marinati. Marinated rissoles.
Menu—Lunch Gnocchi alla Romana. Semolina with parmesan. Filetto di Bue al pistacchi. Beef fillet with pistachios. Bodini marinati. Marinated rissoles.
Menu—Dinner. Zuppa Crotopo. Croute au pot soup. Sogliole alla Veneziana. Fillets of sole. Ateletti alla Sarda. Atelets of ox-palates, &c. Costolette di Montone alla Nizzarda. Mutton cutlets. Pollo alla Fiorentina. Fowl with macaroni. Crema tartara alla Caramella. Caramel cream. Uova rimescolati al tartufi. Eggs with truffles.
Menu—Dinner. Crotopo Soup. Croute au pot soup. Venetian Sole. Fillets of sole. Sardinian Ox Palates. Atelets of ox-palates, &c. Nice-style Mutton Cutlets. Mutton cutlets. Florentine Chicken. Fowl with macaroni. Caramel Cream. Caramel cream. Truffle Scrambled Eggs. Eggs with truffles.
The Sixth Day
The following morning, at breakfast, a servant announced that Sir John Oglethorpe was taking his breakfast in his room, and that there was no need to keep anything in reserve for him. It was stated, however, that Sir John was in no way indisposed, and that he would join the party at lunch.
The next morning, at breakfast, a servant announced that Sir John Oglethorpe was having his breakfast in his room, and there was no need to save anything for him. However, it was mentioned that Sir John was not unwell and would join everyone for lunch
He seated himself in his usual place, placid and fresh as ever; but, unharmed as he was physically, it was evident to all the company that he was suffering from some mental discomposure. Miss Macdonnell, with a frank curiosity which might have been trying in any one else, asked him point-blank the reason of his absence from the meal for which, in spite of his partiality for French cookery, he had a true Englishman's devotion.
He sat down in his usual spot, calm and looking as fresh as ever; but, even though he was physically fine, everyone could see that he was dealing with some mental unrest. Miss Macdonnell, with a straightforward curiosity that might have been annoying coming from anyone else, directly asked him why he had missed the meal for which, despite his love for French cuisine, he had a genuine Englishman's loyalty.
"I feel I owe the company some apology for my apparent churlishness," he said; "but the fact is, that I have received some very harrowing, but at the same time very interesting, news this morning. I think I told you the other day how the vacancy in my kitchen has led up to a very real tragedy, and that the abhorred Fury was already hovering terribly near the head of poor Narcisse. Well, I have just received from a friend in Paris journals containing a full account of the trial of Narcisse and of his fair accomplice. The worst has come to pass, and Narcisse has been doomed to sneeze into the basket like a mere aristocrat or politician during the Terror I was greatly upset by this news, but I was interested, and in a measure consoled, to find an enclosure amongst the other papers, an envelope addressed to me in the handwriting of the condemned man. This voix d'outre tombe, I rejoice to say, confides to me the secret of that incomparable sauce of his, a secret which I feared might be buried with Narcisse in the prison ditch."
"I feel I owe the company an apology for my apparent rudeness," he said; "but the truth is, I've received some really distressing, yet at the same time very intriguing, news this morning. I think I mentioned the other day how the open position in my kitchen has led to a genuine tragedy, and that the dreaded Fury was already ominously close to poor Narcisse. Well, I've just received from a friend in Paris some newspapers containing a complete account of Narcisse's trial and that of his lovely accomplice. The worst has happened, and Narcisse has been sentenced to the guillotine like a mere aristocrat or politician during the Terror. I was very upset by this news, but I was also intrigued and somewhat comforted to find an envelope among the other papers, addressed to me in the handwriting of the condemned man. This voice from beyond the grave, I'm happy to say, reveals to me the secret of his incomparable sauce, a secret I feared might be lost with Narcisse in the prison ditch."
The Marchesa sighed as she listened. The recipe of the sauce was safe indeed, but she knew by experience how wide might be the gulf between the actual work of an artist and the product of another hand guided by his counsels, let the hand be ever so dexterous, and the counsels ever so clear. "Will it be too much," she said, "to ask you to give us the details of this painful tragedy?"
The Marchesa sighed as she listened. The recipe for the sauce was indeed safe, but she knew from experience how vast the gap could be between an artist's actual work and the output of another hand following their advice, no matter how skilled the hand or how clear the advice. "Is it too much to ask you to share the details of this painful tragedy?"
"It will not," Sir John replied reflectively. "The last words of many a so-called genius have been enshrined in literature: probably no one will ever know the parting objurgation of Narcisse. I will endeavour, however, to give you some notion as to what occurred, from the budget I have just read. I fear the tragedy was a squalid one. Madame, the victim, was elderly, unattractive in person, exacting in temper, and the owner of considerable wealth—at least, this is what came out at the trial. It was one of those tangles in which a fatal denouement is inevitable; and, if this had not come through Mademoiselle Sidonie, it would have come through somebody else. The lovers plotted to remove madame by first drugging her, then breaking her skull with the wood chopper, and then pitching her downstairs so as to produce the impression that she had met her death in this fashion. But either the arm of Mademoiselle Sidonie—who was told off to do the hammering—was unskilled in such work, or the opiate was too weak, for the victim began to shriek before she gave up the ghost. Detection seemed imminent, so Narcisse, in whom the quality of discretion was evidently predominant, bolted at once and got out of the country. But the facts were absolutely clear. The victim lived long enough to depose that Mademoiselle Sidonie attacked her with the wood chopper, while Narcisse watched the door. The advocate of Narcisse did his work like a man. He shed the regulation measure of tears; he drew graphic pictures of the innocent youth of Narcisse, of his rise to eminence, and of his filial piety as evidenced by the frequent despatch of money and comestibles to his venerable mother, who was still living near Bourges. Once a year, too, this incomparable artist found time to renew his youth by a sojourn in the simple cottage which saw his birth, and by embracing the giver of his life. Was it possible that a man who treated one woman with such devotion and reverence could take the life of another? He adduced various and picturesque reasons to show that such an event must be impossible, but the jury took the opposite view. Some one had to be guillotined, and the intelligent jury decided that Paris could spare Narcisse better than it could spare Mademoiselle Sidonie. I fear the fact that he had deigned to sell his services to a brutal islander may have helped them to come to this conclusion, but there were other and more weighty reasons. Of the supreme excellence of Narcisse as an artist the jury knew nothing, so they let him go hang—or worse—but of Mademoiselle Sidonie they knew a good deal, and their knowledge, I believe, is shared by certain English visitors to Paris. She is one of the attractions of the Fantasies d'Arcadie, and her latest song, Bonjour Coco, is sung and whistled in every capital of Europe; so the jury, thrusting aside as mere pedantry the evidence of facts, set to work to find some verdict which would not eclipse the gaiety of La Ville Lumiere by cutting short the career of Mademoiselle Sidonie. The art of the chef appealed to only a few, and he dies a mute, but by no means inglorious martyr: the art of the chanteuse appeals to the million, the voice of the many carries the day, and Narcisse must die."
"It won't," Sir John said thoughtfully. "The last words of many so-called geniuses have been immortalized in literature; probably no one will ever know Narcisse's last curse. However, I will try to give you some idea of what happened, based on the report I've just read. Unfortunately, the tragedy was a grim one. Madame, the victim, was older, not very attractive, temperamental, and wealthy—at least, that’s what came out during the trial. It was one of those situations where a fatal outcome was unavoidable; if it hadn't happened through Mademoiselle Sidonie, it would have happened with someone else. The lovers conspired to get rid of Madame by first drugging her, then smashing her skull with a woodchopper, and finally throwing her down the stairs to make it look like an accident. But either Mademoiselle Sidonie—who was assigned to do the hammering—was clumsy, or the drug was too weak, because the victim started screaming before she died. They seemed on the verge of being caught, so Narcisse, who clearly prioritized discretion, fled the scene and escaped the country. But the facts were crystal clear. The victim lived long enough to testify that Mademoiselle Sidonie attacked her with the woodchopper while Narcisse stood at the door. Narcisse's lawyer did his job well. He shed the usual amount of tears; he painted vivid pictures of Narcisse's innocent youth, his rise to fame, and his devotion as shown by regularly sending money and food to his elderly mother, who still lived near Bourges. Once a year, this remarkable artist also found time to rejuvenate himself by visiting the simple cottage where he was born and embracing the woman who gave him life. Could a man who treated one woman with such love and respect really take another's life? He presented various compelling arguments to prove that such a thing was impossible, but the jury saw it differently. Someone had to be executed, and the sensible jury decided that Paris could lose Narcisse more easily than Mademoiselle Sidonie. I fear that his choice to sell his talents to a brutal islander may have influenced their decision, but there were other stronger reasons. The jury knew nothing of Narcisse's exceptional talent as an artist, so they let him face execution—or worse—while they were quite familiar with Mademoiselle Sidonie, and I believe their knowledge is shared by certain English visitors to Paris. She is one of the highlights of the Fantasies d'Arcadie, and her latest song, Bonjour Coco, is sung and whistled in every European capital; so the jury, dismissing the evidence as mere detail, set out to find a verdict that wouldn’t dampen the joy of La Ville Lumiere by ending Mademoiselle Sidonie's career. The chef's art only appealed to a few, and he dies a silent, but not ignoble martyr: the singer's art resonates with the masses, the voice of the people carries the day, and Narcisse must pay the price."
"It is a revolting story," said Mrs. Gradinger, "and one possible only in a corrupted and corrupting society. It is wonderful, as Sir John remarks, how the conquering streams of tendency manifest themselves even in an affair like this. Ours is a democratic age, and the wants and desires of the many, who find delight in this woman's singing, override the whims of the pampered few, the employers of such costly luxuries as men cooks."
“It’s a disgusting story,” said Mrs. Gradinger, “and one that could only happen in a corrupt and corrupting society. It’s amazing, as Sir John points out, how the dominant trends reveal themselves even in situations like this. We live in a democratic age, and the needs and desires of the many, who enjoy this woman's singing, take precedence over the desires of the privileged few, like those who can afford the luxury of male cooks.”
"You see you are a mere worm, Sir John," laughed Miss Macdonnell, "and you had better lay out your length to be trampled on."
"You see, you're just a worm, Sir John," laughed Miss Macdonnell, "and you might as well spread out and get trampled on."
"Yes, I have long foreseen our fate, we who happen to possess what our poor brother hankers after. Well, perhaps I may take up the worm's role at once and 'turn', that is, burn the recipe of Narcisse."
"Yes, I have long predicted our fate, we who happen to have what our poor brother longs for. Well, maybe I should take on the role of the villain and 'turn', that is, destroy Narcisse's recipe."
"O Sir John, Sir John," cried Mrs. Sinclair "any such burning would remind me irresistibly of Mr. Mantalini's attempts at suicide. There would be an accurate copy in your pocket-book, and besides this you would probably have learnt off the recipe by heart."
"O Sir John, Sir John," cried Mrs. Sinclair, "any kind of burning would remind me so much of Mr. Mantalini's suicide attempts. You’d definitely have an exact copy in your pocket, and you probably would have memorized the recipe too."
"Yes, we know our Sir John better than that, don't we?" said the Marchesa; "but, joking apart, Sir John, you might let me have the recipe at once. It would go admirably with one of our lunch dishes for to-morrow."
"Yes, we know our Sir John better than that, don’t we?" said the Marchesa; "but seriously, Sir John, could you please give me the recipe right away? It would pair perfectly with one of our lunch dishes for tomorrow."
But on the subject of the sauce, Sir John—like the younger Mr. Smallweed on the subject of gravy—was adamant. The wound caused by the loss of Narcisse was, he declared, yet too recent: the very odour of the sauce would provoke a thousand agonising regrets. And then the hideous injustice of it all: Narcisse the artist, comparatively innocent (for to artists a certain latitude must be allowed), to moulder in quicklime, and this greedy, sordid murderess to go on ogling and posturing with superadded popularity before an idiot crowd unable to distinguish a Remoulade from a Ravigotte! "No, my dear Marchesa," he said, "the secret of Narcisse must be kept a little longer, for, to tell the truth, I have an idea. I remember that ere this fortunes have been made out of sauces, and if this sauce be properly handled and put before the public, it may counteract my falling, or rather disappearing rents. If only I could hit upon a fetching name, and find twenty thousand pounds to spend in advertising, I might be able once more to live on my acres."
But about the sauce, Sir John—like the younger Mr. Smallweed when it comes to gravy—was firm. He insisted the pain from losing Narcisse was still too fresh: just the smell of the sauce would bring back a flood of heartbreaking memories. And then there was the sheer unfairness of it all: Narcisse the artist, relatively innocent (because artists need a little leeway), rotting in quicklime, while that greedy, despicable murderer goes on flaunting herself and gaining popularity in front of a clueless crowd that can’t tell a Remoulade from a Ravigotte! "No, my dear Marchesa," he said, "the secret of Narcisse has to stay hidden a bit longer, because, honestly, I have an idea. I recall that fortunes have been made from sauces before, and if this sauce is marketed the right way, it could help offset my declining, or really disappearing, rental income. If only I could come up with a catchy name and secure twenty thousand pounds for advertising, I might be able to live off my land again."
"Oh, surely we shall be able to find you a name between us," said Mrs. Wilding; "money, and things of that sort are to be procured in the city, I believe; and I daresay Mr. Van der Roet will design a pretty label for the sauce bottles."
"Oh, I'm sure we can come up with a name together," said Mrs. Wilding. "I believe money and things like that can be found in the city, and I bet Mr. Van der Roet will create a nice label for the sauce bottles."
Menu—Lunch. Pollo all'olive. Fowl with olives. Scaloppine di rive. Veal cutlets with rice. Sedani alla parmigiana. Stewed celery.
Menu—Lunch. Pollo all'olive. Chicken with olives. Scaloppine di rive. Veal cutlets with rice. Sedani alla parmigiana. Celery Parmesan.
Menu—Dinner. Zuppa primaverile. Spring soup Sote di Salmone al funghi. Salmon with mushrooms. Tenerumi d'Agnello alla veneziana. Breast of lamb alla Veneziana. Testa di Vitello alla sorrentina. Calf's head alla Sorrentina. Fagiano alla perigo. Pheasant with truffles. Torta alla cremonese. Cremona tart. Uova alla fiorentina. Egg savoury.
Menu—Dinner. Spring soup. Spring soup Salmon with mushrooms. Salmon with mushrooms. Breast of lamb alla Veneziana. Breast of lamb alla Veneziana. Calf's head alla Sorrentina. Calf's head alla Sorrentina. Pheasant with truffles. Pheasant with truffles. Cremona tart. Cremona tart. Egg savoury. Egg savoury.
The Seventh Day
"It seems invidious to give special praise where everything is so good," said Mrs. Sinclair next day at lunch, "but I must say a word about that clear soup we had at dinner last night. I have never ceased to regret that my regard for manners forbade me ask for a second helping."
"It feels unfair to single out anything for special praise when everything is so good," said Mrs. Sinclair the next day at lunch, "but I have to mention that clear soup we had for dinner last night. I've always regretted that my concern for manners stopped me from asking for a second helping."
"See what it is to have no manners," said Van der Roet. "I plunged boldly for another portion of that admirable preparation of calf's head at dinner. If I hadn't, I should have regretted it for ever after. Now, I'm sure you are just as curious about the construction of these masterpieces as I am, Mrs. Sinclair, so we'll beg the Marchesa to let us into the secret."
"See what it’s like to have no manners," said Van der Roet. "I went all in for another serving of that amazing calf’s head dish at dinner. If I hadn’t, I would have regretted it forever. Now, I know you’re just as curious about how these masterpieces are made as I am, Mrs. Sinclair, so let’s ask the Marchesa to let us in on the secret."
"Mrs. Sinclair herself had a hand in the calf's-head dish, 'Testa di Vitello alla sorrentina,' so perhaps I may hand over that part of the question to her. I am very proud that one of my pupils should have won praise from such a distinguished expert as Mr. Van der Roet, and I leave her to expound the mystery of its charm. I think I may without presumption claim the clear soup as a triumph, and it is a discovery of my own. The same calf's head which Mrs. Sinclair has treated with such consummate skill, served also as the foundation for the stock of the clear soup. This stock certainly derived its distinction from the addition of the liquor in which the head was boiled. A good consomme can no doubt be made with stock-meat alone, but the best soup thus made will be inferior to that we had for dinner last night. Without the calf's head you will never get such softness, combined with full roundness on the tongue, and the great merit of calf's head is that it lets you attain this excellence without any sacrifice of transparency."
"Mrs. Sinclair herself was involved in the calf's-head dish, 'Testa di Vitello alla sorrentina,' so I’ll let her talk about that part of the question. I'm really proud that one of my students received praise from such a notable expert as Mr. Van der Roet, and I'll let her explain the secret of its appeal. I think I can modestly claim the clear soup as a success, and it’s my own discovery. The same calf's head that Mrs. Sinclair has prepared with such skill also served as the base for the clear soup's stock. This stock definitely got its unique flavor from the broth in which the head was boiled. You can certainly make a good consomme with just stock meat, but the best soup made that way will still fall short of what we had for dinner last night. Without the calf's head, you’ll never achieve that softness while still having a full, rounded flavor, and the great thing about calf's head is that it allows you to reach this level of excellence without compromising transparency."
"I have marvelled often at the clearness of your soups, Marchesa," said the Colonel. "What clearing do you use to make them look like pale sherry?"
"I have often marveled at how clear your soups are, Marchesa," said the Colonel. "What do you use to make them look like pale sherry?"
"No one has any claim to be called a cook who cannot make soup without artificial clearing," said the Marchesa. "Like the poet, the consomme is born, not made. It must be clear from the beginning, an achievement which needs care and trouble like every other artistic effort, but one nevertheless well within the reach of any student who means to succeed. To clear a soup by the ordinary medium of white of egg or minced beef is to destroy all flavour and individuality. If the stock be kept from boiling until it has been strained, it will develop into a perfectly clear soup under the hands of a careful and intelligent cook. The fleeting delicate aroma which, as every gourmet will admit, gives such grateful aid to the palate, is the breath of garden herbs and of herbs alone, and here I have a charge to bring against contemporary cookery. I mean the neglect of natural in favour of manufactured flavourings. With regard to herbs, this could not always have been the rule, for I never go into an old English garden without finding there a border with all the good old-fashioned pot herbs growing lustily. I do not say that the use of herbs is unknown, for of course the best cookery is impossible without them, but I fear that sage mixed with onion is about the only one which ever tickles the palate of the great English middle-class. And simultaneously with the use of herb flavouring in soup has arisen the practice of adding wine, which to me seems a very questionable one. If wine is put in soup at all, it must be used so sparingly as to render its presence imperceptible. Why then use it at all? In some sauces wine is necessary, but in all cases it is as difficult to regulate as garlic, and requires the utmost vigilance on the part of the cook."
“No one can truly be called a cook if they can’t make soup without artificial clearing,” said the Marchesa. “Like a poet, consommé is born, not made. It has to be clear from the start, which is an accomplishment requiring as much care and effort as any other artistic endeavor, but it is definitely attainable for any student determined to succeed. Clearing a soup with egg whites or minced beef compromises all its flavor and uniqueness. If the stock is kept from boiling until it’s strained, it can turn into a perfectly clear soup in the hands of a careful and skilled cook. The fleeting delicate aroma that every gourmet agrees enhances the palate comes solely from fresh garden herbs, and here I have a complaint about modern cooking. It’s the neglect of natural flavors in favor of manufactured ones. When it comes to herbs, this hasn’t always been the case; I never visit an old English garden without finding a border filled with classic pot herbs thriving. I’m not saying that herbs are completely forgotten, since the best cooking is impossible without them, but I worry that sage mixed with onion is about all that excites the taste buds of the English middle class. Along with the use of herb flavoring in soup, there’s been a trend of adding wine, which I find quite questionable. If wine is added to soup at all, it should be done so sparingly that it remains undetectable. So why use it at all? In some sauces, wine is necessary, but in every case, it’s as tricky to balance as garlic and requires the utmost attention from the cook.”
"My last cook, who was very stout and a little middle-aged, would always use flavouring sauces from the grocer's rather than walk up to the garden, where we have a most seductive herb bed," said Mrs. Wilding; "and then, again, the love of the English for pungent-made sauces is another reason for this makeshift practice. 'Oh, a table-spoonful of somebody's sauce will do for the flavouring,' and in goes the sauce, and the flavouring is supposed to be complete. People who eat their chops, and steaks, and fish, and game, after having smothered the natural flavour with the same harsh condiment, may be satisfied with a cuisine of this sort, but to an unvitiated palate the result is nauseous."
"My last cook, who was quite plump and a bit older, always preferred to use store-bought sauces instead of walking to the garden, where we have a really tempting herb garden," said Mrs. Wilding. "Also, the English have a strong preference for strong sauces, which is another reason for this makeshift approach. 'Oh, a tablespoon of someone’s sauce will work for flavor,' and in goes the sauce, and that's supposed to be enough. People who eat their chops, steaks, fish, and game after drowning the natural flavor with the same harsh condiment might be fine with this kind of cooking, but to someone with a fresh palate, the result is revolting."
"Yet as a Churchwoman, Mrs. Wilding, you ought to speak with respect of English sauces. I think I have heard how a libation of one of them, which was poured over a certain cathedral, has made it look as good as new," said Miss Macdonnell, "and we have lately learned that one of the most distinguished of our party is ambitious to enter the same career."
"Yet as a member of the church, Mrs. Wilding, you should speak respectfully about English sauces. I've heard that one of them, poured over a certain cathedral, has made it look brand new," said Miss Macdonnell, "and we've recently learned that one of the most distinguished members of our group is eager to pursue the same path."
"I would suggest that Sir John should devote all that money he proposes to make by the aid of his familiar spirit—the ghost of Narcisse—to the building of a temple in honour of the tenth muse, the muse of cookery," said Mrs. Sinclair; "and what do you think, Sir John, of a name I dreamt of last night for your sauce, 'The New Century Sauce'? How will that do?"
"I think Sir John should put all the money he plans to make with his ghostly friend—the spirit of Narcisse—into building a temple in honor of the tenth muse, the muse of cooking," said Mrs. Sinclair. "And what do you think of the name I dreamed up last night for your sauce, 'The New Century Sauce'? How does that sound?"
"Admirably," said Sir John after a moment's pause; "admirably enough to allow me to offer you a royalty on every bottle sold. 'The New Century Sauce', that's the name for me; and now to set to work to build the factory, and to order plans for the temple of the tenth muse."
"Impressively," said Sir John after a brief pause; "impressively enough for me to offer you a royalty on every bottle sold. 'The New Century Sauce', that’s the name I choose; and now it’s time to start building the factory and to arrange plans for the temple of the tenth muse."
Menu—Lunch. Maccheroni al pomidoro. Macaroni with tomatoes, Vitello alla pellegrina. Veal cutlets alla pellegrina. Animelle al sapor di targone. Sweetbread with tarragon sauce.
Menu—Lunch. Maccheroni al pomidoro. Macaroni with tomatoes, Vitello alla pellegrina. Veal cutlets alla pellegrina. Animelle al sapor di targone. Sweetbread in tarragon sauce.
Menu—Dinner. Zuppa alla Canavese. Soup alla Canavese Naselli con piselli. Whiting with peas. Coscia di manzo al forno. Braized ribs of beef. Lingua alla Visconti. Tongue with grapes. Anitra selvatica. Wild duck. Zabajone ghiacciato. Iced syllabub. Crostatini alla capucina. Savoury of rice, truffles, &c.
Menu—Dinner. Soup alla Canavese. Soup alla Canavese Whiting with peas. Whiting with peas. Braised beef ribs. Braised ribs of beef. Tongue with grapes. Tongue with grapes. Wild duck. Wild duck. Iced syllabub. Iced syllabub. Savory rice with truffles, etc. Savoury of rice, truffles, &c.
The Eighth Day
"We are getting unpleasantly near the end of our time," said the Colonel, "but I am sure not one of us has learnt one tithe of what the Marchesa has to teach."
"We're uncomfortably close to the end of our time," said the Colonel, "but I'm sure none of us has learned even a fraction of what the Marchesa has to teach."
"My dear Colonel Trestrail," said the Marchesa, "an education in cookery does not mean the teaching of a certain number of recipes. Education, I maintain, is something far higher than the mere imparting of facts; my notion of it is the teaching of people to teach themselves, and this is what I have tried to do in the kitchen. With some of you I am sure I have succeeded, and a book containing the recipe of every dish we have tried will be given to every pupil when we break up."
"My dear Colonel Trestrail," said the Marchesa, "a cooking education isn't just about teaching a bunch of recipes. I believe education is much more than simply sharing facts; it's about teaching people how to teach themselves, and that's what I've aimed to do in the kitchen. I'm sure I've succeeded with some of you, and every student will receive a book with the recipe for every dish we've tried when we finish."
"I think the most valuable lesson I have learnt is that cookery is a matter for serious study," said Mrs. Sinclair. "The popular English view seems to be that it is one of those things which gets itself done. The food is subjected to the action of heat, a little butter, or pepper, or onion, being added by way of flavouring, and the process is complete. To put it bluntly, it requires at least as much mental application to roast a fowl as to cut a bodice; but it does not strike the average Englishwoman in this way, for she will spend hours in thinking and talking about dressmaking (which is generally as ill done as her cooking), while she will be reluctant to give ten minutes to the consideration as to how a luncheon or supper dish shall be prepared. The English middle classes are most culpably negligent about the food they eat, and as a consequence they get exactly the sort of cooks they deserve to get. I do not blame the cooks; if they can get paid for cooking ill, why should they trouble to learn to cook well?"
"I think the most valuable lesson I've learned is that cooking is something that deserves serious study," said Mrs. Sinclair. "The common view in England seems to be that it's just something that happens on its own. Food is cooked with some heat, maybe a bit of butter, pepper, or onion for flavor, and that's it. To be straightforward, it takes just as much thought to roast a chicken as it does to sew a dress; but the average English woman doesn't see it that way. She will spend hours thinking and talking about dressmaking (which is usually done as poorly as her cooking), while she’s hesitant to spend even ten minutes considering how to make a lunch or dinner dish. The English middle classes are incredibly careless about the food they eat, and as a result, they end up with the kind of cooks they deserve. I don't blame the cooks; if they can get paid for cooking poorly, why should they bother to learn to cook well?"
"I agree entirely," said Mrs. Wilding. "That saying, 'What I like is good plain roast and boiled, and none of your foreign kickshaws,' is, as every one knows, the stock utterance of John Bull on the stage or in the novel; and, though John Bull is not in the least like his fictitious presentment, this form of words is largely responsible for the waste and want of variety in the English kitchen. The plain roast and boiled means a joint every day, and this arrangement the good plain cook finds an admirable one for several reasons: it means little trouble, and it means also lots of scraps and bones and waste pieces. The good plain cook brings all the forces of obstruction to bear whenever the mistress suggests made dishes; and, should this suggestion ever be carried out, she takes care that the achievement shall be of a character not likely to invite repetition. Not long ago a friend of mine was questioning a cook as to soups, whereupon the cook answered that she had never been required to make such things where she had lived; all soups were bought in tins or bottles, and had simply to be warmed up. Cakes, too, were outside her repertoire, having always been 'had in' from the confectioner's, while 'entrys' were in her opinion, and in the opinion of her various mistresses, 'un'ealthy' and not worth making."
"I completely agree," said Mrs. Wilding. "That saying, 'What I like is good plain roast and boiled, not any of your foreign nonsense,' is, as everyone knows, the typical phrase of John Bull on stage or in novels; and while John Bull isn't really like his fictional version, this expression is largely to blame for the waste and lack of variety in English cooking. Good plain roast and boiled means having a roast every day, and this setup works perfectly for a straightforward cook for several reasons: it requires little effort and also produces lots of scraps, bones, and leftovers. The straightforward cook does everything she can to push back whenever the mistress suggests making other dishes; and if that suggestion ever gets acted on, she ensures that the outcome is something that won’t be repeated anytime soon. Not long ago, a friend of mine asked a cook about soups, and the cook replied that she had never been asked to make any where she had worked; all soups were bought in cans or jars and just needed to be heated up. Cakes were also off her list, as they were always 'bought in' from the bakery, and 'entrées' were considered by her and her various mistresses to be 'unhealthy' and not worth the effort."
"My experience is that, if a mistress takes an interest in cooking, she will generally have a fairly efficient cook," said Mrs. Fothergill. "I agree with Mrs. Sinclair that our English cooks are spoilt by neglect; and I think it is hard upon them, as a class, that so many inefficient women should be able to pose as cooks while they are unable to boil a potato properly."
"My experience is that if a woman shows interest in cooking, she usually has a pretty good cook," said Mrs. Fothergill. "I agree with Mrs. Sinclair that our English cooks are neglected and spoiled; it’s unfair to them as a group that so many ineffective women can pretend to be cooks while they can't even boil a potato properly."
"And the so-called schools of cookery are quite useless in what they teach," said Miss Macdonnell. "I once sent a cook of mine to one to learn how to make a clear soup, and when she came back, she sent up, as an evidence of her progress, a potato pie coloured pink and green, a most poisonous-looking dish—and her clear soups were as bad as ever."
"And the so-called cooking schools are totally useless in what they teach," said Miss Macdonnell. "I once sent a cook of mine to one to learn how to make a clear soup, and when she came back, she presented, as proof of her progress, a potato pie dyed pink and green, a really unappealing dish—and her clear soups were just as bad as they used to be."
Said the Colonel, "I will beg leave to enter a protest against the imperfections of that repast which is supposed to be the peculiar delight of the ladies, I allude to afternoon tea. I want to know why it is that unless I happen to call just when the tea is brought up—I grant, I know of a few houses which are honourable exceptions—I am fated to drink that most abominable of all decoctions, stewed lukewarm tea. 'Will you have some tea? I'm afraid it isn't quite fresh,' the hostess will remark without a blush. What would she think if her husband at dinner were to say, 'Colonel, take a glass of that champagne. It was opened the day before yesterday, and I daresay the fizz has gone off a little'? Tea is cheap enough, and yet the hostess seldom or never thinks of ordering up a fresh pot. I believe it is because she is afraid of the butler."
Said the Colonel, "I’d like to formally complain about the shortcomings of that meal that’s supposed to be a favorite among women—I’m talking about afternoon tea. I want to know why, unless I happen to visit right when the tea is served—I admit, there are a few homes that do it right—I end up having to drink that dreadful stewed lukewarm tea. 'Would you like some tea? I’m afraid it’s not very fresh,' the hostess will say without hesitation. What would she think if her husband at dinner said, 'Colonel, have some of that champagne. It was opened two days ago, and I suppose the fizz is gone a bit'? Tea is cheap enough, yet the hostess rarely thinks to ask for a fresh pot. I believe it’s because she’s afraid of the butler."
"I sympathise with you fully, Colonel," said Lady Considine, "and my withers are unwrung. You do not often honour me with your presence on Tuesdays, but I am sure I may claim to be one of your honourable exceptions."
"I completely sympathize with you, Colonel," said Lady Considine, "and I'm not feeling upset at all. You don't usually grace me with your presence on Tuesdays, but I think I can say I'm one of your few exceptions."
"Indeed you may," said the Colonel. "Perhaps men ought not to intrude on these occasions; but I have a preference for taking tea in a pretty drawing-room, with a lot of agreeable women, rather than in a club surrounded by old chaps growling over the latest job at the War Office, and a younger brigade chattering about the latest tape prices, and the weights for the spring handicaps."
"Of course you can," said the Colonel. "Maybe men shouldn't interrupt during these moments; but I'd rather have tea in a nice living room with pleasant women than in a club full of old guys grumbling about the latest issues at the War Office, and younger guys chatting about the latest tape prices and the weights for the spring races."
"All these little imperfections go to prove that we are not a nation of cooks," said Van der Roet. "We can't be everything. Heine once said that the Romans would never have found time to conquer the world if they had been obliged to learn the Latin grammar; and it is the same with us. We can't expect to found an empire all over the planet, and cook as well as the French, who—perhaps wisely—never willingly emerge from the four corners of their own land."
"All these little flaws show that we’re not a nation of cooks," said Van der Roet. "We can’t do it all. Heine once said that the Romans wouldn’t have had time to conquer the world
"There is energy enough left in us when we set about some purely utilitarian task," said Mrs. Wilding, "but we never throw ourselves into the arts with the enthusiasm of the Latin races. I was reading the other day of a French costumier who rushed to inform a lady, who had ordered a turban, of his success, exclaiming, 'Madame, apres trots nun's d'insomnie les plumes vent placees.' And every one knows the story of Vatel's suicide because the fish failed to arrive. No Englishman would be capable of flights like these."
“There’s still plenty of energy in us when we tackle a purely practical task,” Mrs. Wilding said, “but we never dive into the arts with the same enthusiasm as the Latin races. I was reading the other day about a French costume designer who rushed to tell a lady, who had ordered a turban, about his success, exclaiming, 'Madame, après trois nuits d'insomnie les plumes sont placées.' And everyone knows the story of Vatel’s suicide because the fish didn’t arrive. No Englishman would be capable of such extremes.”
"Really, this indictment of English cookery makes me a little nervous," said Lady Considine "I have promised to join in a driving tour through the southern counties. I shudder to think of the dinners I shall have to eat at the commercial hotels and posting-houses on our route."
"Honestly, this criticism of English cooking makes me a bit anxious," said Lady Considine. "I've committed to a driving tour through the southern counties. I dread the thought of the dinners I'll have to eat at the commercial hotels and inns along the way."
"English country inns are not what they ought to be, but now and then you come across one which is very good indeed, as good, if not better, than anything you could find in any other country; but I fear I must admit that, charges considered, the balance is against us," said Sir John.
"English country inns aren't what they should be, but every once in a while, you find one that's really great—just as good, if not better, than anything you'd find in other countries. However, I have to admit that when you consider the prices, we're not coming out ahead," said Sir John.
"When you start you ought to secure Sir John's services as courier, Lady Considine," said the Marchesa. "I once had the pleasure of driving for a week through the Apennines in a party under his guidance, and I can assure you we found him quite honest and obliging."
"When you get started, you should definitely hire Sir John as your courier, Lady Considine," said the Marchesa. "I had the pleasure of traveling for a week through the Apennines with him leading our group, and I can assure you that he was very honest and helpful."
"Ah, Marchesa, I was thinking of that happy time this very morning," said Sir John. "Of Arezzo, where we were kept for three days by rain, which I believe is falling there still. Of Cortona, with that wonderful little restaurant on the edge of the cliff, whence you see Thrasumene lying like a silver mirror in the plain below. Of Perugia, the august, of Gubbio, Citta di Castello, Borgo San Sepolcro, Urbino, and divers others. If you go for a drive in Italy, you still may meet with humours of the road such as travellers of old were wont to enjoy. I well remember on the road between Perugia and Gubbio we began to realise we were indeed traversing mountain paths. On a sudden the driver got down, waved his arms, and howled to some peasants working in a field below. These, on their part, responded with more arm-waving and howling, directed apparently towards a village farther up the hill, whereupon we were assailed with visions of brigands, and amputated ears, and ransom. But at a turn of the road we came upon two magnificent white oxen, which, being harnessed on in front, drew us, and our carriages and horses as well, up five miles of steep incline. These beautiful fellows, it seemed, were what the driver was signalling for, and not for brigands. Again, every inn we stayed at supplied us with some representative touch of local life and habit. Here the whole personnel of the inn, reinforced by a goodly contingent of the townsfolk, would accompany us even into our bedrooms, and display the keenest interest in the unpacking of our luggage. There the cook would come and take personal instructions as to the coming meal, throwing out suggestions the while as to the merits of this or that particular dish, and in one place the ancient chambermaid insisted that one of the ladies, who had got a slight cold, should have the prete put into her bed for a short time to warm it. You need not look shocked, Colonel. The prete in question was merely a wooden frame, in the midst of which hangs a scaldino filled with burning ashes—a most comforting ecclesiastic, I can assure you. All the inns we visited had certain characteristics in common. The entrance is always dirty, and the staircase too, the dining rooms fairly comfortable, the bedrooms always clean and good, and the food much better than you would expect to find in such out-of-the-way places; indeed I cannot think of any inn where it was not good and wholesome, while often it was delicious. In short, Lady Considine, I strongly advise you to take a drive in Italy next spring, and if I am free I shall be delighted to act as courier."
"Ah, Marchesa, I was thinking about that wonderful time just this morning," said Sir John. "Of Arezzo, where we were stuck for three days because of the rain, which I believe is still falling there. Of Cortona, with that amazing little restaurant on the edge of the cliff, from which you could see Lake Trasimeno lying like a silver mirror in the plain below. Of Perugia, the grand, and Gubbio, Citta di Castello, Borgo San Sepolcro, Urbino, and many others. If you go for a drive in Italy, you can still encounter the kinds of amusing situations that travelers of the past used to enjoy. I clearly remember on the road between Perugia and Gubbio realizing that we were indeed traveling through mountain paths. Suddenly, the driver got down, waved his arms, and shouted to some farmers working in a field below. They, in turn, responded with more arm-waving and shouting, seemingly directed towards a village higher up the hill, leading us to imagine brigands, severed ears, and ransom. But around a bend in the road, we came across two magnificent white oxen, which, being harnessed in front, pulled us, along with our carriages and horses, up five miles of steep slope. It turned out these beautiful animals were what the driver was signaling for, not brigands. Again, every inn we stayed at provided us with some true representation of local life and customs. Here, the entire inn staff, joined by a good number of townsfolk, would even accompany us into our bedrooms, taking a keen interest in unpacking our bags. The cook would come to take personal instructions for the upcoming meal, suggesting the merits of this or that dish, and at one place, the elderly chambermaid insisted that one of the ladies, who had caught a slight cold, should have the prete put into her bed for a little while to warm it. You need not look shocked, Colonel. The prete in question was merely a wooden frame, in the middle of which hangs a scaldino filled with burning ashes—a very comforting thing, I assure you. All the inns we visited shared certain characteristics. The entrance is always dirty, and the staircase too; the dining rooms are fairly comfortable, the bedrooms are always clean and nice, and the food is much better than you would expect to find in such remote places; in fact, I can't think of any inn where it wasn't good and wholesome, while often it was delicious. In short, Lady Considine, I strongly recommend you take a drive in Italy next spring, and if I'm free, I would be delighted to act as your guide."
"Sir John has forgotten one or two touches I must fill in," said the Marchesa. "It was often difficult to arrange a stopping-place for lunch, so we always stocked our basket before starting. After the first day's experience we decided that it was vastly more pleasant to take our meal while going uphill at a foot-pace, than in the swing and jolt of a descent, so the route and the pace of the horses had to be regulated in order to give us a good hour's ascent about noon. Fortunately hills are plentiful in this part of Italy, and in the keen air we generally made an end of the vast store of provisions we laid in, and the generous fiascho was always empty a little too soon. Our drive came to an end at Fano, whither we had gone on account of a strange romantic desire of Sir John to look upon an angel which Browning had named in one of his poems. Ah! how vividly I can recall our pursuit of that picture. It was a wet, melancholy day. The people of Fano were careless of the fame of their angel, for no one knew the church which it graced. At last we came upon it by the merest chance, and Sir John led the procession up to the shrine, where we all stood for a time in positions of mock admiration. Sir John tried hard to keep up the imposition, but something, either his innate honesty or the chilling environment of disapproval of Guercino's handiwork, was too much for him. He did his best to admire, but the task was beyond his powers, and he raised no protest when some scoffer affirmed that, though Browning might be a great poet, he was a mighty poor judge of painting, when he gave in his beautiful poem immortality to this tawdry theatrical canvas. 'I think,' said Sir John, 'we had better go back to the hotel and order lunch. It would have been wiser to have ordered it before we left.' We were all so much touched by his penitence that no one had the heart to remind him how a proposition as to lunch had been made by our leading Philistine as soon as we arrived, a proposition waved aside by Sir John as inadmissible until the 'Guardian Angel' should have been seen and admired."
"Sir John has forgotten a few details I need to fill in," said the Marchesa. "It was often hard to find a good place to stop for lunch, so we always packed our basket before setting out. After the first day's experience, we decided it was much more enjoyable to eat while going uphill at a slow pace than to deal with the bumps and jolts of going down, so we had to plan the route and the horses' speed to give us a solid hour of climbing around noon. Luckily, there are plenty of hills in this part of Italy, and in the fresh air, we usually finished off the huge supply of food we brought along, and the generous bottle was always empty a little too soon. Our journey ended at Fano, where we had gone because of Sir John's strange romantic desire to see an angel mentioned in one of Browning's poems. Ah! I can clearly remember our search for that painting. It was a rainy, gloomy day. The people of Fano didn't care about the fame of their angel, as no one knew the church it was in. Eventually, we stumbled upon it by sheer luck, and Sir John led us up to the shrine, where we all stood pretending to admire it. Sir John tried hard to maintain the facade, but something—either his natural honesty or the chilly atmosphere of disapproval of Guercino's artwork—was too much for him. He made an effort to appreciate it, but the task was beyond him, and he didn’t object when someone scoffed that although Browning might be a great poet, he was a terrible judge of painting for giving eternal life to this cheap theatrical canvas in his beautiful poem. 'I think,' said Sir John, 'we should head back to the hotel and order lunch. It would have been smarter to do that before we left.' We were all so moved by his regret that no one had the heart to remind him that our leading Philistine had suggested lunch as soon as we arrived, a suggestion dismissed by Sir John as out of the question until we had seen and admired the 'Guardian Angel.'"
"I plead guilty," said Sir John. "I think this experience gave a death-blow to my career as an appreciator. Anyhow, I quite forget what the angel was like, and for reminiscences of Fano have to fall back upon the excellent colazione we ate in the externally unattractive, but internally admirable, Albergo del Moro."
"I admit it," said Sir John. "I believe this experience was a fatal blow to my career as an appreciator. Either way, I can't remember what the angel looked like, and to recall my memories of Fano, I have to rely on the amazing breakfast we had at the seemingly unappealing, but actually wonderful, Albergo del Moro."
Menu—Lunch. Astachi all'Italiana. Lobster all'Italiana Filetto di bue alla Napolitana. Fillet of beef with Neapolitan sauce. Risotto alla spagnuola. Savoury rice.
Menu—Lunch. Italian-style Astachi. Italian-style Lobster Beef fillet with Neapolitan sauce. Fillet of beef with Neapolitan sauce. Spanish-style Risotto. Savory rice.
Menu—Dinner. Zuppa alla Romana. Soup with quenelles. Salmone alla Genovese. Salmon alla Genovese. Costolette in agro-dolce. Mutton cutlets with Roman sauce. Flano di spinacci. Spinach in a mould. Cappone con rive. Capon with rice. Croccante di mandorle. Almond sweet. Ostriche alla Napolitana. Oyster savoury.
Menu—Dinner. Zuppa alla Romana. Soup with dumplings. Salmone alla Genovese. Salmon Genovese style. Costolette in agro-dolce. Mutton cutlets with sweet and sour sauce. Flano di spinacci. Spinach mold. Cappone con rive. Capon with rice. Croccante di mandorle. Almond brittle. Ostriche alla Napolitana. Neapolitan oysters.
The Ninth Day
"Since I have been associated with the production of a dinner, I have had my eyes opened as to the complicated nature of the task, and the numerous strings which have to be pulled in order to ensure success," said the Colonel; "but, seeing that a dinner-party with well-chosen sympathetic guests and distinguished dishes represents one of the consummate triumphs of civilisation, there is no reason to wonder. To achieve a triumph of any sort demands an effort."
"Since I've been involved in organizing a dinner, I've come to realize how complicated the task is and how many things need to be managed to make it successful," said the Colonel. "But considering that a dinner party with well-chosen, like-minded guests and exquisite dishes is one of the great achievements of civilization, it’s no surprise. Achieving any kind of success requires effort."
"Effort," said Miss Macdonnell. "Yes, effort is the word I associate with so many middle-class English dinners. It is an effort to the hosts, who regard the whole business as a mere paying off of debts; and an effort to the guests, who, as they go to dress, recall grisly memories of former similar experiences. It often astonishes me that dinner-giving of this character should still flourish."
"Effort," said Miss Macdonnell. "Yeah, effort is the word that comes to mind with so many middle-class English dinners. It’s an effort for the hosts, who see the whole thing as just settling debts; and an effort for the guests, who, as they go to get ready, remember the awkward moments from past experiences. I’m often surprised that dinner parties like this still happen."
"The explanation is easy," said Van der Roet; "it flourishes because it gives a mark of distinction. It is a delicious moment for Mrs. Johnson when she is able to say to Mrs. Thompson, 'My dear, I am quite worn-out; we dined out every day last week, and have four more dinners in the next five days.' These good people show their British grit by the persistency with which they go on with their penitential hospitality, and their lack of ideas in never attempting to modify it so as to make it a pleasure instead of a disagreeable duty."
"The explanation is simple," said Van der Roet; "it thrives because it provides a sense of prestige. It's a delightful moment for Mrs. Johnson when she can tell Mrs. Thompson, 'My dear, I am completely exhausted; we went out for dinner every day last week, and we have four more dinners in the next five days.' These good people demonstrate their British resilience by their unwavering dedication to this burdensome hospitality, and their failure to rethink it in order to transform it from an unpleasant obligation into a joy."
"It won't do to generalise too widely, Van der Roet," said Sir John. "Some of these good people surely enjoy their party-giving; and, from my own experience of one or two houses of this sort, I can assure you the food is quite respectable. The great imperfection seems to lie in the utter want of consideration in the choice of guests. A certain number of people and a certain quantity of food shot into a room, that is their notion of a dinner-party."
"It’s not a good idea to generalize too much, Van der Roet," said Sir John. "Some of these lovely people definitely enjoy throwing parties; and from my own experience with a couple of places like this, I can assure you the food is pretty decent. The real problem seems to be the total lack of thought put into choosing the guests. They think a certain number of people and a certain amount of food just thrown into a room is what makes a dinner party."
"Of course we understand that the success of a dinner depends much more on the character of the guests than on the character of the food," said Mrs. Sinclair; "and most of us, I take it, are able to fill our tables with pleasant friends; but what of the dull people who know none but dull people? What gain will they get by taking counsel how they shall fill their tables?"
"Of course we know that the success of a dinner relies much more on the personalities of the guests than on the quality of the food," said Mrs. Sinclair. "Most of us, I think, can invite cheerful friends to our tables; but what about the boring people who only know other boring people? What benefit will they get from discussing how to fill their tables?"
"More, perhaps, than you think, dear Mrs. Sinclair," said Sir John. "Dull people often enjoy themselves immensely when they meet dull people only. The frost comes when the host unwisely mixes in one or two guests of another sort—people who give themselves airs of finding more pleasure in reading Stevenson than the sixpenny magazines, and who don't know where Hurlingham is. Then the sheep begin to segregate themselves from the goats, and the feast is manque."
"More than you might realize, dear Mrs. Sinclair," said Sir John. "Boring people often have a great time when they’re around other boring people. The trouble starts when the host mistakenly invites a guest or two who are different—people who act like they get more enjoyment from reading Stevenson than the cheap magazines, and who have no idea where Hurlingham is. That’s when the sheep start separating themselves from the goats, and the gathering loses its charm."
"Considering what a trouble and anxiety a dinner-party must be to the hostess, even under the most favouring conditions, I am always at a loss to discover why so many women take so much pains, and spend a considerable sum of money as well, over details which are unessential, or even noxious," said Mrs. Wilding. "A few flowers on the table are all very well—one bowl in the centre is enough—but in many houses the cost of the flowers equals, if it does not outrun, the cost of all the rest of the entertainment. A few roses or chrysanthemums are perfect as accessories, but to load a table with flowers of heavy or pungent scent is an outrage. Lilies of the valley are lovely in proper surroundings, but on a dinner-table they are anathema. And then the mass of paper monstrosities which crowd every corner. Swans, nautilus shells, and even wild boars are used to hold up the menu. Once my menu was printed on a satin flag, and during the war the universal khaki invaded the dinner table. Ices are served in frilled baskets of paper, which have a tendency to dissolve and amalgamate with the sweet. The only paper on the table should be the menu, writ plain on a handsome card."
"Considering how much trouble and anxiety a dinner party must cause the hostess, even under the best circumstances, I’m always puzzled as to why so many women go to such lengths and spend a good amount of money on unimportant or even off-putting details," said Mrs. Wilding. "A few flowers on the table are nice—one bowl in the center is enough—but in many homes, the cost of the flowers equals, if it doesn’t exceed, the cost of everything else. A few roses or chrysanthemums are perfect as accents, but overcrowding a table with flowers that have heavy or strong scents is just wrong. Lilies of the valley are beautiful in the right setting, but on a dinner table, they're a no-go. And then there are all those paper monstrosities cramming every corner. Swans, nautilus shells, and even wild boars are used to hold up the menu. Once my menu was printed on a satin flag, and during the war, the universal khaki made its way onto the dinner table. Ice desserts are served in frilled paper baskets that tend to dissolve and mix with the dessert. The only paper on the table should be the menu, printed plainly on a nice card."
"No one can complain of papery ices here," said the Marchesa. "Ices may be innocuous, but I don't favour them, and no one seems to have felt the want of them; at least, to adopt the phrase of the London shopkeeper, 'I have had no complaints.' And even the ice, the very emblem of purity, has not escaped the touch of the dinner-table decorator. Only a few days ago I helped myself with my fingers to what looked like a lovely peach, and let it flop down into the lap of a bishop who was sitting next to me. This was the hostess's pretty taste in ices."
"No one can complain about the frozen desserts here," said the Marchesa. "Frozen treats may be harmless, but I don't like them, and no one seems to have missed them; at least, to use the words of the London shopkeeper, 'I have had no complaints.' And even the ice, the very symbol of purity, hasn’t escaped the influence of the dinner-table decorator. Just a few days ago, I tried to grab what looked like a lovely peach with my fingers, only to let it drop into the lap of a bishop sitting next to me. This was the hostess's charming idea of frozen desserts.”
"They are generally made in the shape of camelias this season," said Van der Roet. "I knew a man who took one and stuck it in his buttonhole."
"They're mostly shaped like camellias this season," said Van der Roet. "I knew a guy who took one and put it in his buttonhole."
"I must say I enjoy an ice at dinner," said Lady Considine. "I know the doctors abuse them, but I notice they always eat them when they get the chance."
"I have to say I enjoy ice cream at dinner," said Lady Considine. "I know doctors complain about it, but I notice they always have some when they get the opportunity."
"Ah, that is merely human inconsistency," said Sir John. "I am inclined to agree with the Marchesa that ice at dinner is an incongruity, and may well be dispensed with. I think I am correct, Marchesa, in assuming that Italy, which has showered so many boons upon us, gave us also the taste for ices."
"Ah, that's just typical human inconsistency," said Sir John. "I tend to agree with the Marchesa that having ice at dinner is awkward and can definitely be skipped. I believe I'm right, Marchesa, in thinking that Italy, which has granted us so many gifts, also gave us our love for ice desserts."
"I fear I must agree," said the Marchesa. "I now feel what a blessing it would have been for you English if you had learnt from us instead the art of cooking the admirable vegetables your gardens produce. How is it that English cookery has never found any better treatment for vegetables than to boil them quite plain? French beans so treated are tender, and of a pleasant texture on the palate, but I have never been able to find any taste in them. They are tasteless largely because the cook persists in shredding them into minute bits, and I maintain that they ought to be cooked whole—certainly when they are young—and sautez, a perfectly plain and easy process, which is hard to beat. Plain boiled cauliflower is doubtless good, but cooked alla crema it is far better; indeed, it is one of the best vegetable dishes I know. But perhaps the greatest discovery in cookery we Italians ever made was the combination of vegetables and cheese. There are a dozen excellent methods of cooking cauliflower with cheese, and one of these has come to you through France, choux-fleurs au gratin, and has become popular. Jerusalem artichokes treated in the same fashion are excellent; and the cucumber, nearly always eaten raw in England, holds a first place as a vegetable for cooking. I seem to remember that every one was loud in its praises when we tasted it as an adjunct to Manzo alla Certosina. Why is it that celery is for the most part only eaten raw with cheese? We have numberless methods of cooking it in Italy, and beetroot and lettuce as well. There is no spinach so good as English, and nowhere is it so badly cooked; it is always coarse and gritty because so little trouble is taken with it, and I can assure you that the smooth, delicate dish which we call Flano di spinacci is not produced merely by boiling and chopping it, and turning it out into a dish."
"I have to agree," said the Marchesa. "I now realize what a blessing it would have been for you English if you had learned from us how to cook the amazing vegetables from your gardens. How is it that English cooking has never found a better way to prepare vegetables than just boiling them plain? French beans cooked this way are tender and have a nice texture, but I’ve never been able to find any real flavor in them. They taste bland largely because the cook insists on chopping them into tiny pieces, and I believe they should be cooked whole—especially when they are young—and sautéed, a perfectly simple and easy technique that's hard to beat. Plain boiled cauliflower is definitely good, but when cooked alla crema, it’s so much better; in fact, it’s one of the best vegetable dishes I know. But maybe the greatest discovery in cooking that we Italians ever made was the combination of vegetables and cheese. There are countless excellent ways to cook cauliflower with cheese, and one of those has made its way to you via France, choux-fleurs au gratin, which has become quite popular. Jerusalem artichokes cooked the same way are fantastic, and the cucumber, usually eaten raw in England, is actually great for cooking. I seem to recall everyone raving about it when we tried it with Manzo alla Certosina. Why is it that celery is mostly eaten raw with cheese? We have countless ways to cook it in Italy, along with beetroot and lettuce. No spinach is as good as English spinach, and yet it’s typically cooked so poorly; it always turns out coarse and gritty because so little care is taken with it. I can assure you that the smooth, delicate dish we call Flano di spinacci isn’t made just by boiling and chopping it and dumping it onto a plate."
Menu—Lunch Minestrone alla Milanese. Vegetable broth. Coniglio alla Provenzale. Rabbit alla Provenzale. Insalata di pomidoro. Tomato salad.
Menu—Lunch Milanese Minestrone. Vegetable broth. Provençal Rabbit. Rabbit Provençal. Tomato Salad. Tomato salad.
Menu—Dinner. Zuppa alla Maria Pia. Soup alla Maria Pia. Anguilla con ortaggi alla Milanese. Eels with vegetables. Manzo con sugo di barbabietoli. Fillet of beef with beetroot sauce. Animelle alla parmegiana. Sweetbread with parmesan. Perniciotti alla Gastalda. Partridges alla Gastalda. Uova ripiani. Stuffed eggs.
Menu—Dinner. Zuppa alla Maria Pia. Soup alla Maria Pia. Anguilla con ortaggi alla Milanese. Eels with vegetables. Manzo con sugo di barbabietoli. Fillet of beef with beetroot sauce. Animelle alla parmegiana. Sweetbread with parmesan. Perniciotti alla Gastalda. Partridges alla Gastalda. Uova ripiani. Stuffed eggs.
The Tenth Day
The sun rose on the tenth and last day at the "Laurestinas" as he was wont to rise on less eventful mornings. At breakfast the Marchesa proposed that the lunch that day should be a little more ornate than usual, and the dinner somewhat simpler. She requisitioned the services of six of the company to prepare the lunch, and at the same time announced that they would all have a holiday in the afternoon except Mrs. Sinclair, whom she warned to be ready to spend the afternoon in the kitchen helping prepare the last dinner.
The sun came up on the tenth and final day at the "Laurestinas," just like it did on less eventful mornings. At breakfast, the Marchesa suggested that lunch should be a bit more elaborate than usual, while dinner could be simpler. She asked six members of the group to help prepare lunch and also announced that everyone else would have the afternoon off, except for Mrs. Sinclair, whom she warned to be ready to spend the afternoon in the kitchen helping make the final dinner.
Four dishes, all admirable, appeared at lunch, and several of the party expressed regret that the heat of the weather forbade them from tasting every one; but Sir John was not of these. He ate steadily through the menu, and when he finally laid down his knife and fork he heaved a sigh, whether of satisfaction or regret it were hard to say.
Four impressive dishes were served at lunch, and several people in the party wished they could try them all, but Sir John was not one of them. He steadily worked his way through the menu, and when he finally set down his knife and fork, he let out a sigh, though it was difficult to tell if it was one of satisfaction or regret.
"It is a commonplace of the deepest dye to remark that ingratitude is inherent in mankind," he began; "I am compelled to utter it, however, by the sudden longing I feel for a plate from the hand of the late lamented Narcisse after I have eaten one of the best luncheons ever put on a table."
"It’s a well-known fact that ingratitude is part of human nature," he started; "I have to say it, though, because I suddenly crave a dish from the late, great Narcisse after enjoying one of the best lunches ever served."
"Experience of one school of excellence has caused a hankering after the triumphs of another," said Miss Macdonnell "There is one glory of the Marchesa, there is, or was, another of Narcisse, and the taste of the Marchesa's handiwork has stimulated the desire of comparision. Never mind, Sir John, perhaps in another world Narcisse may cook you—"
"Seeing how one school excels has made people crave the successes of another," said Miss Macdonnell. "There's one kind of brilliance from the Marchesa, and there used to be another from Narcisse, and the quality of the Marchesa's work has sparked the urge to compare. Don't worry, Sir John, maybe in another world, Narcisse will cook for you—"
"Oh stop, stop, for goodness' sake," cried Sir John, "I doubt whether even he could make me into a dainty dish to set before the King of Tartarus, though the stove would no doubt be fitted with the latest improvements and the fuel abundant."
"Oh stop, stop, for goodness' sake," cried Sir John, "I doubt even he could turn me into a fancy dish to serve to the King of Tartarus, even though the stove would probably be equipped with the latest upgrades and the fuel plentiful."
"Really, Sir John, I'm not sure I ought not to rise and protest," said Mrs. Wilding, "and I think I would if it weren't our last day."
"Honestly, Sir John, I'm not sure I should just sit here and say nothing," Mrs. Wilding said, "and I probably would if it weren't our last day."
"Make a note of Sir John's wickedness, and pass it on to the Canon for use in a sermon," said Van der Roet.
"Take note of Sir John's wrongdoing and share it with the Canon for a sermon," said Van der Roet.
"I can only allow you half-an-hour, Laura," said the Marchesa to Mrs. Sinclair, "then you must come and work with me for the delectation of these idle people, who are going to spend the afternoon talking scandal under the chestnuts."
"I can only give you half an hour, Laura," the Marchesa told Mrs. Sinclair, "then you have to come and work with me for the enjoyment of these lazy people, who are going to spend the afternoon gossiping under the chestnut trees."
"I am quite ready to join you if I can be of any help," said Mrs. Gradinger. "When knowledge is to be acquired, I am always loath to stand aside, not for my own sake so much as for the sake of others less fortunate, to whom I might possibly impart it hereafter."
"I’m totally ready to join you if I can help," said Mrs. Gradinger. "When there’s knowledge to be gained, I never want to sit on the sidelines, not just for my own benefit but for those who are less fortunate, to whom I might be able to pass it on later."
"You are very good," said the Marchesa, "but I think I must adhere to my original scheme of having Mrs. Sinclair by herself. I see coffee is now being taken into the garden, so we will adjourn, if you please."
"You’re really great," said the Marchesa, "but I think I need to stick to my original plan of having Mrs. Sinclair alone. I see coffee is being taken to the garden now, so let’s head out, if that's alright."
After the two workers had departed for the kitchen, an unwonted silence fell on the party under the chestnuts. Probably every one was pondering over the imminent dissolution of the company, and wondering whether to regret or rejoice. The peace had been kept marvellously well, considering the composition of the company. Mrs. Fothergill at times had made a show of posing as the beneficent patron, and Mrs. Gradinger had essayed to teach what nobody wanted to learn; but firm and judicious snubbing had kept these persons in their proper places. Nearly every one was sorry that the end had come. It had been real repose to Mrs. Wilding to pass ten days in an atmosphere entirely free from all perfume of the cathedral close. Lady Considine had been spending freely of late, and ten days' cessation of tradesmen's calls, and servants on board wages, had come as a welcome relief. Sir John had gained a respite from the task he dreaded, the task of going in quest of a successor to Narcisse. Now as he sat consuming his cigarette in the leisurely fashion so characteristic of his enjoyment—and those who knew him best were wont to say that Sir John practiced few arts so studiously as that of enjoyment—he could not banish the figure of Narcisse from his reverie. A horrible thought assailed him that this obsession might spring from the fact that on this very morning Narcisse might have taken his last brief walk out of the door of La Roquette, and that his disembodied spirit might be hovering around. Admirable as the cookery of the Marchesa had been, and fully as he had appreciated it, he felt he would give a good deal to be assured that on this the last evening of the New Decameron he might sit down to a dinner prepared by the hand of his departed chef.
After the two workers left for the kitchen, an unusual silence fell over the party under the chestnut trees. Everyone was likely reflecting on the upcoming end of their gathering, wondering whether they should feel sad or happy about it. The peace had been surprisingly well maintained, given the mix of people present. Mrs. Fothergill occasionally tried to act like a generous benefactor, while Mrs. Gradinger attempted to teach lessons that no one wanted to learn; but some firm and sensible snubbing kept them in check. Almost everyone felt sorry that it had come to an end. Mrs. Wilding found it refreshing to spend ten days in a place completely free from the atmosphere of the cathedral close. Lady Considine had been spending a lot lately, and the ten days without visits from tradespeople or having to deal with staff on wages had been a welcome break. Sir John had gotten a break from a task he dreaded: finding a replacement for Narcisse. Now, as he leisurely enjoyed his cigarette—something those who knew him well would say he practiced with great attention—he couldn’t shake the thought of Narcisse from his mind. A disturbing idea struck him that this obsession might be because, that very morning, Narcisse might have taken his last short walk out of La Roquette, and that his spirit could be lingering nearby. As excellent as the cooking of the Marchesa was, and as much as he had appreciated it, he would have given a lot to be sure that on this last evening of the New Decameron, he could sit down to a dinner cooked by his late chef.
That evening the guests gathered round the table with more empressement than usual. The Marchesa seemed a little flurried, and Mrs. Sinclair, in a way, shared her excitement. The menu, for the first time, was written in French, a fact which did not escape Sir John's eye. He made no remark as to the soup; it was the best of its kind, and its French name made it no better than the other triumphs in the same field which the Marchesa had achieved. But when Sir John tasted the first mouthful of the fish he paused, and after a reflective and regretful look at his plate, he cast his eye round the table. All the others, however, were too busily intent in consuming the Turbot la Vatel to heed his interrogative glance, so he followed suit, and after he had finished his portion, asked, sotto voce, for another bit.
That evening, the guests gathered around the table with more enthusiasm than usual. The Marchesa seemed a bit flustered, and Mrs. Sinclair, in a way, reflected her excitement. For the first time, the menu was written in French, which didn't go unnoticed by Sir John. He said nothing about the soup; it was the best of its kind, and its French name didn't make it any better than the Marchesa's other successes in that category. But when Sir John took the first bite of the fish, he paused, and after a thoughtful and regretful glance at his plate, he looked around the table. However, everyone else was too busy enjoying the Turbot la Vatel to notice his questioning look, so he joined in and, after finishing his portion, quietly asked for another piece.
In the interval before the service of the next dish Sir John made several vain attempts to catch the Marchesa's eye, and more than once tried to get in a word; but she kept up a forced and rather nervous conversation with Lady Considine and Van der Roet, and refused to listen. As Sir John helped himself to the next dish, Venaison sauce Grand Veneur, the feeling of astonishment which had seized him when he first tasted the fish deepened into something like Consternation. Had his palate indeed deceived him, or had the Marchesa, by some subtle effort of experimental genius, divined the secret of Narcisse—the secret of that incomparable sauce, the recipe of which was safely bestowed in his pocket-book? Occasionally he had taken a brief nap under the verandah after lunch: was it possible that in his sleep he might have murmured, in her hearing, words which gave the key of the mystery, and the description of those ingredients which often haunted his dreams? One thing was certain, that the savour which rose from the venison before him was the same which haunted his memory as the parting effort of the ill-starred Narcisse.
While waiting for the next dish, Sir John made several unsuccessful attempts to get the Marchesa's attention and tried to say something more than once, but she kept up a forced and somewhat anxious conversation with Lady Considine and Van der Roet, completely ignoring him. As Sir John served himself the next course, venaison sauce Grand Veneur, the sense of disbelief he felt when he first tasted the fish turned into what felt like panic. Had his taste buds really tricked him, or had the Marchesa, through some clever experimentation, figured out the secret of Narcisse—the secret of that incredible sauce whose recipe he carefully kept in his pocketbook? Sometimes he had dozed off under the veranda after lunch; could it be that he had unknowingly murmured in his sleep the words that revealed the mystery and the list of ingredients that often visited his dreams? One thing was clear: the flavor wafting from the venison in front of him was the same one that lingered in his memory as the last effort of the ill-fated Narcisse.
Sir John was the least superstitious of mortals, still here he was face to face with one of these conjunctions of affairs which the credulous accept as manifestations of some hidden power, and sceptics as coincidences and nothing more. All the afternoon he had been thinking of Narcisse, and yearning beyond measure for something suggestive of his art; and here, on his plate before him, was food which might have been touched by the vanished hand. The same subtle influence pervaded the Chartreuse a la cardinal, the roast capon and salad, and the sweet. At last, when the dinner was nearly over, and when the Marchesa had apparently said all she had to say to Van der Roet, he lifted up his voice and said, "Marchesa, who gave you the recipe for the sauce with which the venison was served this evening?"
Sir John was the least superstitious person around, yet here he was confronted by one of those situations that the gullible view as signs of some hidden power, while skeptics consider them mere coincidences. All afternoon, he had been thinking about Narcisse and longing for something that reflected his art; and here, right on his plate, was food that could have been touched by a vanished hand. The same delicate influence could be felt in the Chartreuse a la cardinal, the roasted capon and salad, and the dessert. Finally, when dinner was almost over and the Marchesa seemed to have said all she needed to say to Van der Roet, he raised his voice and asked, "Marchesa, who gave you the recipe for the sauce that accompanied the venison this evening?"
The Marchesa glanced at Mrs. Sinclair, and then struck a hand-bell on the table. The door opened, and a little man, habited in a cook's dress of spotless white, entered and came forward. "M. Narcisse," said the Marchesa, "Sir John wants to know what sauce was used in dressing the venison; perhaps you can tell him."
The Marchesa looked at Mrs. Sinclair and then rang a small bell on the table. The door opened, and a short man, dressed in a clean white cook's outfit, came in and approached. "M. Narcisse," the Marchesa said, "Sir John wants to know what sauce was used on the venison; maybe you can tell him."
Here the Marchesa rose and left the room, and all the rest followed her, feeling it was unmeet that such a reunion should be witnessed by other eyes, however friendly they might be.
Here the Marchesa stood up and left the room, and everyone else followed her, feeling it wasn’t right for such a reunion to be seen by anyone else, no matter how friendly they were.
"Now, you must tell us all about it," said Lady Considine, as soon as they got into the drawing-room, "and how you ever managed to get him out of this scrape."
"Now, you have to tell us everything," said Lady Considine as soon as they entered the living room, "and how you managed to get him out of this mess."
"Oh, there isn't much to tell," said the Marchesa. "Narcisse was condemned, indeed, but no one ever believed he would be executed. One of my oldest friends is married to an official high up in the Ministry of Justice, and I heard from her last week that Narcisse would certainly be reprieved; but I never expected a free pardon. Indeed, he got this entirely because it was discovered that Mademoiselle Sidonie, his accomplice, was really a Miss Adah Levine, who had graduated at a music-hall in East London, and that she had announced her intention of retiring to the land of her birth, and ascending to the apex of her profession on the strength of her Parisian reputation. Then it was that the reaction in favour of Narcisse set in; the boulevards could not stand this. The journals dealt with this new outrage in their best Fashoda style; the cafes rang with it: another insult cast upon unhappy France, whose destiny was, it seemed, to weep tears of blood to the end of time. There were rumours of an interpellation in the Chamber, the position of the Minister of the Interior was spoken of as precarious, indeed the Eclaireur reported one evening that he had resigned. Pockets were picked under the eyes of sergents de ville, who were absorbed in proclaiming to each other their conviction of the innocence of Narcisse, and the guilt of cette coquine Anglaise. Cabmen en course ran down pedestrians by the dozen, as they discussed l'affaire Narcisse to an accompaniment of whip-cracking. In front of the Cafe des Automobiles a belated organ-grinder began to grind the air of Mademoiselle Sidonie's great song Bonjour Coco, whereupon the whole company rose with howls and cries of, 'A bas les Anglais, a bas les Juifs. 'Conspuez Coco.' In less than five minutes the organ was disintegrated, and the luckless minstrel flying with torn trousers down a side street. For the next few days la haute gomme promenaded with fragments of the piano organ suspended from watch chains as trophies of victory. But this was not all. Paris broke out into poetry over l'affaire Narcisse, and here is a journal sent to me by my friend which contains a poem in forty-nine stanzas by Aristophane le Beletier, the cher maitre of the 'Moribonds,' the very newest school of poetry in Paris. I won't inflict the whole of it on you, but two stanzas I must read—
"Oh, there's not much to share," said the Marchesa. "Narcisse was condemned, for sure, but no one really thought he would be executed. One of my oldest friends is married to a high-ranking official in the Ministry of Justice, and I heard from her last week that Narcisse would definitely be spared; but I never expected a full pardon. In fact, he got this entirely because it turned out that Mademoiselle Sidonie, his accomplice, was actually a Miss Adah Levine, who had graduated from a music hall in East London, and she had announced her plan to return to her homeland and rise to the top of her profession based on her Parisian reputation. That’s when the support for Narcisse started to grow; the boulevards couldn't handle this. The newspapers covered this new scandal in their usual dramatic style; the cafes buzzed with it: another insult directed at poor France, whose fate seemed to be to cry tears of blood forever. There were whispers of a motion in the Chamber; they talked about the Minister of the Interior's position being shaky, and indeed, the Eclaireur reported one evening that he had resigned. Pockets were being picked right in front of the sergents de ville, who were completely absorbed in declaring to each other their belief in Narcisse's innocence and the guilt of that English hussy. Cab drivers ran over pedestrians by the dozen while discussing the Narcisse case, accompanied by the sound of whip-cracking. In front of the Cafe des Automobiles, a late-night organ-grinder started playing the hit song by Mademoiselle Sidonie, Bonjour Coco, causing the whole crowd to rise up with howls and shouts of, 'Down with the English, down with the Jews. Spit on Coco.' In less than five minutes, the organ was smashed, and the poor musician fled with torn trousers down a side street. For the next few days, high society strolled around with pieces of the piano organ hanging from their watch chains as trophies of victory. But that wasn't all. Paris erupted into poetry over the Narcisse affair, and here’s a journal my friend sent me that contains a poem in forty-nine stanzas by Aristophane le Beletier, the beloved master of the 'Moribonds,' the latest school of poetry in Paris. I won't make you suffer through all of it, but I must read you two stanzas—
"'Puisse-je te rappeler loin des brouillards maudits.
Vers la France, sainte mere et nourrice!
Reviens a Lutece, de l'art vrai paradis,
Je t'evoque, O Monsieur Narcisse!
Quitte les saignants bifteks, de tes mains sublimes
Gueris le sein meurtri de ta mere!
Detourne ton glaive trenchant de tes freles victimes
Vers l'Albion et sa triste Megere.'"
"'May I remind you away from the cursed fogs.
Back to France, holy mother and nurturer!
Return to Lutetia, the true paradise,
I call upon you, O Monsieur Narcisse!
Leave behind the bloody steaks, with your sublime hands
Heal the wounded breast of your mother!
Turn your sharp sword from your fragile victims
Towards Albion and its sad harpy.'""Dear me, it sounds a little like some other Parisian odes I have read recently," said Lady Considine. "The triste Megere, I take it, is poor old Britannia, but what does he mean by his freles victimes?"
"Goodness, it sounds a bit like some other poems about Paris that I've read recently," said Lady Considine. "I assume the sad Megere is poor old Britannia, but what does he mean by his freles victimes?"
"No doubt they are the pigeons and the rabbits, and the chickens and the capons which Narcisse is supposed to have slaughtered in hecatombs, in order to gorge the brutal appetite of his English employer," said Miss Macdonnell. "After disregarding such an appeal as this M. Narcisse had better keep clear of Paris for the future, for if he should go back and be recognised I fancy it would be a case of 'conspuvez Narcisse."'
"No doubt they are the pigeons, rabbits, chickens, and capons that Narcisse was supposed to have slaughtered in large numbers to satisfy the brutal appetite of his English boss," said Miss Macdonnell. "After ignoring an appeal like this, M. Narcisse should stay away from Paris in the future, because if he goes back and gets recognized, I think it’ll be a case of 'spit on Narcisse.'"
"The French seem to have lost all sense of exactness," said Mrs. Gradinger, "for the lines you have just read would not pass muster as classic. In the penultimate line there are two syllables in excess of the true Alexandrine metre, and the last line seems too long by one. Neither Racine nor Voltaire would have taken such liberties with prosody. I remember a speech in Phaedre of more than a hundred lines which is an admirable example of what I mean. I dare say some of you know it. It begins:—
"The French have completely lost their sense of precision," said Mrs. Gradinger, "because the lines you just read wouldn't qualify as classic. The second-to-last line has two extra syllables beyond the true Alexandrine meter, and the last line seems to have one too many. Neither Racine nor Voltaire would have been so careless with prosody. I recall a speech in Phaedre that has over a hundred lines, which perfectly illustrates what I'm talking about. I'm sure some of you are familiar with it. It starts:—
"Perfide! oses-tu bien te montrer devant moi? Monstre,"
"Traitor! Do you really dare to show yourself in front of me? Monster,"
but before the reciter could get fairly under way the door mercifully opened, and Sir John entered. He advanced towards the Marchesa, and shook her warmly by the hand, but said nothing; his heart was evidently yet too full to allow him to testify his relief in words. He was followed closely by the Colonel, who, taking his stand on the hearth-rug, treated the company to a few remarks, couched in a strain of unwonted eulogy. In the whole course of his life he had never passed a more pleasant ten days, though, to be sure, he had been a little mistrustful at first. As to the outcome of the experiment, if they all made even moderate use of the counsels they had received from the Marchesa, the future of cookery in England was now safe. He was not going to propose a formal vote of thanks, because anything he could say would be entirely insufficient to express the gratitude he felt, and because he deemed that each individual could best thank the Marchesa on his or her behalf.
But before the speaker could really get going, the door opened, and Sir John walked in. He approached the Marchesa and shook her hand warmly but said nothing; he was clearly too emotional to express his relief in words. He was closely followed by the Colonel, who stood on the hearth-rug and gave the group a few remarks filled with unexpected praise. In all his life, he had never spent a more enjoyable ten days, although he admitted he had been a bit unsure at first. As for the results of the experiment, if everyone used even a little of the advice they had received from the Marchesa, the future of cooking in England was secure. He wasn't going to suggest a formal vote of thanks because anything he could say wouldn’t be enough to convey his gratitude, and he believed that each person could thank the Marchesa in their own way.
There was a momentary silence when the Colonel ceased, and then a clearing of the throat and a preliminary movement of the arms gave warning that Mrs. Gradinger was going to speak. The unspoken passage from Racine evidently sat heavily on her chest. Abstracted and overwrought as he was, these symptoms aroused in Sir John a consciousness of impending danger, and he rushed, incontinent, into the breach, before the lady's opening sentence was ready.
There was a brief silence when the Colonel finished, and then a throat clearing and a subtle movement of the arms indicated that Mrs. Gradinger was about to speak. The unspoken lines from Racine clearly weighed heavily on her. Although he was distracted and stressed, Sir John felt a sense of looming danger, and he hurriedly jumped in before the lady could start her sentence.
"As Colonel Trestrail has just remarked, we, all of us, are in debt to the Marchesa in no small degree; but, in my case, the debt is tenfold. I am sure you all understand why. As a slight acknowledgment of the sympathy I have received from every one here, during my late trial, I beg to ask you all to dine with me this day week, when I will try to set before you a repast a la Francaise, which I hope may equal, I cannot hope that it will excel, the dinners all'Italiana we have tasted in this happy retreat. Narcisse and I have already settled the menu."
"As Colonel Trestrail just mentioned, we are all indebted to the Marchesa to some extent; but in my case, the debt is much greater. I’m sure you all understand why. As a small token of appreciation for the support I’ve received from everyone here during my recent difficulties, I’d like to invite you all to dinner with me a week from today. I’ll do my best to prepare a French meal that I hope will be as good, though I can’t promise it will be better, than the Italian dinners we’ve enjoyed in this lovely place. Narcisse and I have already planned the menu."
"I am delighted to accept," said the Marchesa. "I have no engagement, and if I had I would throw my best friend over."
"I’m happy to accept," said the Marchesa. "I have no plans, and even if I did, I would ditch my best friend."
"And this day fortnight you must all dine with me," said Mrs. Sinclair. "I will spend the intervening days in teaching my new cook how to reproduce the Marchesa's dishes. Then, perhaps, we may be in a better position to decide on the success of the Marchesa's experiment."
"And in two weeks, you all have to come to dinner at my place," said Mrs. Sinclair. "I'll spend the time in between teaching my new chef how to make the Marchesa's dishes. Then, maybe, we'll be better able to judge how successful the Marchesa's experiment has been."
The next morning witnessed the dispersal of the party. Sir John and Narcisse left by an early train, and for the next few days the reforming hand of the last-named was active in the kitchen. He arrived before the departure of the temporary aide, and had not been half-an-hour in the house before there came an outbreak which might easily have ended in the second appearance of Narcisse at the bar of justice, as homicide, this time to be dealt with by a prosaic British jury, which would probably have doomed him to the halter. Sir John listened over the balusters to the shrieks and howls of his recovered treasure, and wisely decided to lunch at his club. But the club lunch, admirable as it was, seemed flat and unappetising after the dainty yet simple dishes he had recently tasted; and the following day he set forth to search for one of those Italian restaurants, of which he had heard vague reports. Certainly the repast would not be the same as at the "Laurestinas," but it might serve for once. Alas! Sir John did not find the right place, for there are "right places" amongst the Italian restaurants of London. He beat a hasty retreat from the first he entered, when the officious proprietor assured him that he would serve up a dejeuner in the best French style. At the second he chose a dish with an Italian name, but the name was the only Italian thing about it. The experiment had failed. It seemed as if Italian restaurateurs were sworn not to cook Italian dishes, and the next day he went to do as best he could at the club.
The next morning marked the end of the gathering. Sir John and Narcisse took an early train, and for the next few days, Narcisse was busy reorganizing the kitchen. He arrived before the temporary aide left, and it wasn’t long before chaos erupted, which could have easily led to Narcisse facing justice again, this time for homicide, likely to be judged by a typical British jury that would probably have sentenced him to hang. Sir John listened from upstairs to the screams and cries of his beloved property and wisely decided to have lunch at his club. However, the club lunch, impressive as it was, felt dull and unappealing after the delightful yet simple meals he had recently enjoyed; so the next day he set out to find one of those Italian restaurants he had heard about. The meal wouldn’t be the same as at “Laurestinas,” but it could work for now. Unfortunately, he couldn’t find the right spot, as there are indeed “right places” among London’s Italian restaurants. He quickly left the first one he entered when the eager owner insisted he could serve a lunch in the best French style. At the second place, he ordered a dish with an Italian name, but that was the only Italian thing about it. The attempt was a failure. It seemed like Italian restaurant owners had sworn not to serve authentic Italian dishes, and the next day he returned to make do at the club.
But before he reached the club door he recalled how, many years ago, he and other young bloods used to go for chops to Morton's, a queer little house at the back of St. James' Street, and towards Morton's he now turned his steps. As he entered it, it seemed as if it was only yesterday that he was there. He beheld the waiter, with mouth all awry, through calling down the tube. The same old mahogany partitions to the boxes, and the same horse-hair benches. Sir John seated himself in a box, where there was one other luncher in the corner, deeply absorbed over a paper. This luncher raised his head and Sir John recognised Van der Roet.
But before he reached the club door, he remembered how many years ago he and other young guys used to go for chops at Morton's, a quirky little spot at the back of St. James' Street, and now he headed in that direction. As he walked in, it felt like just yesterday that he had been there. He saw the waiter, his mouth all twisted from yelling down the tube. The same old mahogany partitions in the booths, and the same horsehair benches. Sir John took a seat in a booth, where there was another diner in the corner, completely focused on a newspaper. This diner looked up, and Sir John recognized Van der Roet.
"My dear Vander, whatever brought you here, where nothing is to be had but chops? I didn't know you could eat a chop."
"My dear Vander, what brought you here, where there's nothing to be had but chops? I didn't know you ate chops."
"I didn't know it myself till to-day," said Van der Roet, with a hungry glance at the waiter, who rushed by with a plate of smoking chops in each hand. "The fact is, I've had a sort of hankering after an Italian lunch, and I went out to find one, but I didn't exactly hit on the right shop, so I came here, where I've been told you can get a chop properly cooked, if you don't mind waiting."
"I didn't know it myself until today," said Van der Roet, casting a hungry look at the waiter who dashed by with a plate of steaming chops in each hand. "The truth is, I've been craving an Italian lunch, and I went out to find one, but I didn't quite find the right place, so I came here, where I've heard you can get a chop cooked just right, if you're okay with waiting."
"Ah! I see," said Sir John, laughing. "We've both been on the same quest, and have been equally unlucky. Well, we shall satisfy our hunger here at any rate, and not unpleasantly either."
"Ah! I get it," Sir John said with a laugh. "We've both been on the same adventure and haven’t had much luck. Well, at least we can satisfy our hunger here, and it won't be too bad."
"I went to one place," said Van der Roet "and before ordering I asked the waiter if there was any garlic in the dish I had ordered. 'Garlic, aglio, no, sir, never.' Whereupon I thought I would go somewhere else. Next I entered the establishment of Baldassare Romanelli. How could a man with such a name serve anything else than the purest Italian cookery, I reasoned, so I ordered, unquestioning, a piatio with an ideal Italian name, Manzo alla Terracina. Alas! the beef used in the composition thereof must have come in a refrigerating chamber from pastures more remote than those of Terracina, and the sauce served with it was simply fried onions. In short, my dish was beefsteak and onions, and very bad at that. So in despair I fell back upon the trusty British chop."
"I went to one place," said Van der Roet, "and before I ordered, I asked the waiter if there was any garlic in the dish I wanted. 'Garlic? No, sir, never.' So I decided to go somewhere else. Then I went to Baldassare Romanelli's place. I thought, how could a guy with that name serve anything but the best Italian food? So I ordered a dish with a classic Italian name, Manzo alla Terracina, without hesitation. Unfortunately, the beef in it must have come from a freezer, far away from the pastures of Terracina, and the sauce was just fried onions. In short, my dish was just beefsteak and onions, and it was really bad. So in my disappointment, I settled for a good old British chop."
As Van der Roet ceased speaking another guest entered the room, and he and Sir John listened attentively while the new-comer gave his order. There was no mistaking the Colonel's strident voice. "Now, look here! I want a chop underdone, underdone, you understand, with a potato, and a small glass of Scotch whisky, and I'll sit here."
As Van der Roet stopped talking, another guest walked into the room, and he and Sir John listened closely while the newcomer placed his order. There was no mistaking the Colonel's loud voice. "Alright, listen up! I want a chop cooked rare, rare, do you get that? With a potato, and a small glass of Scotch whisky, and I'll sit right here."
"The Colonel, by Jove," said Sir John; "I expect he's been restaurant-hunting too."
"The Colonel, by God," said Sir John; "I bet he's been searching for restaurants too."
"Hallo!" said the Colonel, as he recognised the other two, "I never thought I should meet you here: fact is, I've been reading about agricultural depression' and how it is the duty of everybody to eat chops so as to encourage the mutton trade, and that sort of thing."
"Hello!" said the Colonel, as he recognized the other two, "I never thought I’d run into you here: the truth is, I’ve been reading about agricultural depression and how it’s everyone's duty to eat chops to support the mutton trade, and that kind of thing."
"Oh, Colonel, Colonel," said Van der Roet. "You know you've been hungering after the cookery of Italy, and trying to find a genuine Italian lunch, and have failed, just as Sir John and I failed, and have come here in despair. But never mind, just wait for a year or so, until the 'Cook's Decameron' has had a fair run for its money, and then you'll find you'll fare as well at the ordinary Italian restaurant as you did at the 'Laurestinas,' and that's saying a good deal."
"Oh, Colonel, Colonel," said Van der Roet. "You know you've been craving Italian food and trying to find an authentic Italian lunch, but you've had no luck, just like Sir John and I did, and now you've come here feeling defeated. But don’t worry, just wait a year or so until the 'Cook's Decameron' gets its chance to shine, and then you'll find that you'll enjoy your meals at a regular Italian restaurant just as much as you did at the 'Laurestinas,' and that's saying a lot."
PART II—RECIPES
Sauces
As the three chief foundation sauces in cookery, Espagnole or brown sauce, Velute or white sauce, and Bechamel, are alluded to so often in these pages, it will be well to give simple Italian recipes for them.
As the three main foundational sauces in cooking—Espagnole or brown sauce, Veloute or white sauce, and Bechamel—are mentioned so frequently in these pages, it would be helpful to provide simple Italian recipes for each of them.
Australian wines may be used in all recipes where wine is mentioned: Harvest Burgundy for red, and Chasselas for Chablis.
Australian wines can be used in all recipes where wine is mentioned: Harvest Burgundy for red wine, and Chasselas for Chablis.
No. 1. Espagnole, or Brown Sauce
The chief ingredient of this useful sauce is good stock, to which add any remnants and bones of fowl or game. Butter the bottom of a stewpan with at least two ounces of butter, and in it put slices of lean veal, ham, bacon, cuttings of beef, fowl, or game trimmings, three peppercorns, mushroom trimmings, a tomato, a carrot and a turnip cut up, an onion stuck with two cloves, a bay leaf, a sprig of thyme, parsley and marjoram. Put the lid on the stewpan and braize well for fifteen minutes, then stir in a tablespoonful of flour, and pour in a quarter pint of good boiling stock and boil very gently for fifteen minutes, then strain through a tamis, skim off all the grease, pour the sauce into an earthenware vessel, and let it get cold. If it is not rich enough, add a little Liebig or glaze. Pass through a sieve again before using.
The main ingredient of this useful sauce is good stock, to which you can add any leftover bits and bones from poultry or game. Start by greasing the bottom of a saucepan with at least two ounces of butter. Then add slices of lean veal, ham, bacon, pieces of beef, poultry, or game trimmings, three peppercorns, mushroom scraps, a chopped tomato, a chopped carrot and turnip, and an onion studded with two cloves. Add a bay leaf, a sprig of thyme, parsley, and marjoram. Cover the saucepan and braise for fifteen minutes, then stir in a tablespoon of flour and pour in a quarter pint of good boiling stock. Let it simmer gently for another fifteen minutes, then strain it through a fine sieve, remove all the grease, and pour the sauce into an earthenware container to cool. If it’s not rich enough, add a little Liebig or glaze. Strain it through a sieve again before using.
No. 2. Velute Sauce
The same as above, but use white stock, no beef, and only pheasant or fowl trimmings, button mushrooms, cream instead of glaze, and a chopped shallot.
The same as above, but use white stock, no beef, and only pheasant or chicken trimmings, button mushrooms, cream instead of glaze, and a chopped shallot.
No. 3. Bechamel Sauce
Ingredients: Butter, ham, veal, carrots, shallot, celery bay leaf, cloves, thyme, peppercorns, potato flour, cream, fowl stock.
Ingredients: Butter, ham, veal, carrots, shallots, celery, bay leaf, cloves, thyme, peppercorns, potato flour, cream, poultry stock.
Prepare a mirepoix by mixing two ounces of butter, trimmings of lean veal and ham, a carrot, a shallot, a little celery, all cut into dice, a bay leaf, two cloves, four peppercorns, and a little thyme. Put this on a moderate fire so as not to let it colour, and when all the moisture is absorbed add a tablespoonful of potato flour. Mix well, and gradually add equal quantities of cream and fowl stock, and stir till it boils. Then let it simmer gently. Stir occasionally, and if it gets too thick, add more cream and white stock. After two hours pass it twice slowly through a tamis so as to get the sauce very smooth.
Prepare a mirepoix by mixing two ounces of butter, scraps of lean veal and ham, a carrot, a shallot, and a bit of celery, all diced. Add a bay leaf, two cloves, four peppercorns, and a little thyme. Cook this over moderate heat without letting it brown, and when all the moisture is absorbed, add a tablespoon of potato flour. Mix well, then gradually stir in equal amounts of cream and chicken stock, and continue to stir until it boils. Then let it simmer gently. Stir occasionally, and if it gets too thick, add more cream and white stock. After two hours, strain it slowly through a tamis twice to achieve a very smooth sauce.
No. 4. Mirepoix Sauce (for masking)
Ingredients: Bacon, onions, carrots, ham, a bunch of herbs, parsley, mushrooms, cloves, peppercorns, stock, Chablis.
Ingredients: Bacon, onions, carrots, ham, a bunch of herbs, parsley, mushrooms, cloves, peppercorns, stock, Chablis.
Put the following ingredients into a stewpan: Some bits of bacon and lean ham, a carrot, all cut into dice, half an onion, a bunch of herbs, a few mushroom cuttings, two cloves, and four peppercorns. To this add one and a quarter pint of good stock and a glass of Chablis, boil rapidly for ten minutes then simmer till it is reduced to a third. Pass through a sieve and use for masking meat, fowl, fish, &c.
Put the following ingredients into a pot: some pieces of bacon and lean ham, a diced carrot, half an onion, a bunch of herbs, a few chopped mushrooms, two cloves, and four peppercorns. Then add one and a quarter pints of good stock and a glass of Chablis. Boil rapidly for ten minutes, then simmer until it reduces to a third. Strain through a sieve and use for coating meat, poultry, fish, etc.
No. 5. Genoese Sauce
Ingredients: Onion, butter, Burgundy, mushrooms, truffles, parsley, bay leaf, Espagnole sauce (No.1), blond of veal, essence of fish, anchovy butter, crayfish or lobster butter.
Ingredients: Onion, butter, Burgundy wine, mushrooms, truffles, parsley, bay leaf, Espagnole sauce (No.1), veal stock, fish essence, anchovy butter, crayfish or lobster butter.
Cut up a small onion and fry it in butter, add a glass of Burgundy, some cuttings of mushrooms and truffles, a pinch of chopped parsley and half a bay leaf. Reduce half. In another saucepan put two cups of Espagnole sauce, one cup of veal stock, and a tablespoonful of essence of fish, reduce one-third and add it to the other saucepan, skim off all the grease, boil for a few minutes, and pass through a sieve. Then stir it over the fire, and add half a teaspoonful of crayfish and half of anchovy butter.
Cut up a small onion and sauté it in butter, add a glass of Burgundy, some chopped mushrooms and truffles, a pinch of chopped parsley, and half a bay leaf. Reduce by half. In another saucepan, combine two cups of Espagnole sauce, one cup of veal stock, and a tablespoon of fish essence, reduce by one-third, and mix it with the other saucepan. Skim off any grease, boil for a few minutes, and strain it through a sieve. Then heat it gently, and add half a teaspoon of crayfish and half a tablespoon of anchovy butter.
No. 6. Italian Sauce
Ingredients: Chablis, mushrooms, leeks, a bunch of herbs, peppercorns, Espagnole sauce, game gravy or stock, lemon.
Ingredients: Chablis, mushrooms, leeks, a handful of herbs, peppercorns, Espagnole sauce, game gravy or stock, lemon.
Put into a stewpan two glasses of Chablis, two tablespoonsful of mushroom trimmings, a leek cut up, a bunch of herbs, five peppercorns, and boil till it is reduced to half. In another stewpan mix two glasses of Espagnole (No. 1) or Velute sauce (No 2) and half a glass of game gravy, boil for a few minutes then blend the contents of the two stewpans, pass through a sieve, and add the juice of a lemon.
Put two glasses of Chablis into a saucepan, along with two tablespoons of mushroom scraps, a chopped leek, a bunch of herbs, and five peppercorns. Boil until it's reduced by half. In another saucepan, mix two glasses of Espagnole (No. 1) or Veloute sauce (No. 2) and half a glass of game gravy, boil for a few minutes, then combine the contents of both saucepans, strain through a sieve, and add the juice of a lemon.
No. 7. Ham Sauce, Salsa di Prosciutto
Ingredients: Ham, Musca or sweet port, vinegar, basil spice.
Cut up an ounce of ham and pound it in a mortar then mix it with three dessert spoonsful of port or Musca and a teaspoonful of vinegar a little dried basil and a pinch of spice. Boil it up, and then pass it through a sieve and warm it up in a bain-marie. Serve with roast meats. If you cannot get a sweet wine add half a teaspoonful of sugar. Australian Muscat is a good wine to use.
Chop up an ounce of ham and pound it in a mortar. Then mix it with three dessert spoons of port or Muscat and a teaspoon of vinegar, a little dried basil, and a pinch of spice. Boil it, then strain it through a sieve and warm it up in a bain-marie. Serve it with roasted meats. If you can’t find a sweet wine, add half a teaspoon of sugar. Australian Muscat is a good wine to use.
No. 8. Tarragon Sauce
Ingredients: Tarragon, stock, butter, flour.
To half a pint of good stock add two good sprays of fresh tarragon, simmer for quarter of an hour in a stewpan and keep the lid on. In another stewpan melt one ounce of butter and mix it with three dessert-spoonsful of flour, then gradually pour the stock from the first stewpan over it, but take out the tarragon. Mix well, add a teaspoonful of finely chopped tarragon and boil for two minutes.
To half a pint of good stock, add two fresh sprigs of tarragon, simmer for fifteen minutes in a saucepan with the lid on. In another saucepan, melt one ounce of butter and mix it with three dessert spoons of flour, then gradually pour the stock from the first saucepan over it, but remove the tarragon. Mix well, add a teaspoon of finely chopped tarragon, and boil for two minutes.
No. 9. Tomato Sauce
Ingredients: Tomatoes, ham, onions, basil, salt, oil, garlic, spices.
Broil three tomatoes, skin them and mix them with a tablespoonful of chopped ham, half an onion, salt, a dessert-spoonful of oil, a little pounded spice and basil. Then boil and pass through a sieve. Whilst the sauce is boiling, put in a clove of garlic with a cut, but remove it before you pass the sauce through the sieve.
Broil three tomatoes, peel them, and mix them with a tablespoon of chopped ham, half an onion, salt, a teaspoon of oil, a little crushed spice, and basil. Then boil and strain through a sieve. While the sauce is boiling, add a clove of garlic with a cut, but take it out before you strain the sauce.
No. 10. Tomato Sauce Piquante
Ingredients: Ham, butter, onion, carrot, celery, bay leaf, thyme, cloves, peppercorns, vinegar, Chablis, stock, tomatoes, Velute or Espagnole sauce, castor sugar, lemon.
Ingredients: Ham, butter, onion, carrot, celery, bay leaf, thyme, cloves, peppercorns, vinegar, Chablis, stock, tomatoes, Veloute or Espagnole sauce, castor sugar, lemon.
Cut up an ounce of ham, half an onion, half a carrot, half a stick of celery very fine, and fry them in butter together with a bay leaf, a sprig of thyme, one clove and four peppercorns. Over this pour a third of a cup of vinegar, and when the liquid is all absorbed, add half a glass of Chablis and a cup of stock. Then add six tomatoes cut up and strained of all their liquid. Cook this in a covered stewpan and pass it through a sieve, but see that none of the bay leaf or thyme goes through. Mix this sauce with an equal quantity of Velute (No. 2) or Espagnole sauce, (No. 1), let it boil and pass through a sieve again and at the last add a teaspoonful of castor sugar, the juice of half a lemon, and an ounce of fresh butter. (Another tomato sauce may be made like this, but use stock instead of vinegar and leave out the lemon juice and sugar.)
Chop up an ounce of ham, half an onion, half a carrot, and half a stick of celery finely, and sauté them in butter along with a bay leaf, a sprig of thyme, one clove, and four peppercorns. Pour in a third of a cup of vinegar, and once the liquid is fully absorbed, add half a glass of Chablis and a cup of stock. Then mix in six chopped tomatoes, strained of all their liquid. Cook this in a covered pot and strain it through a sieve, making sure none of the bay leaf or thyme gets through. Combine this sauce with an equal amount of Velouté (No. 2) or Espagnole sauce (No. 1), bring it to a boil, and strain it again. Finally, add a teaspoon of caster sugar, the juice of half a lemon, and an ounce of fresh butter. (You can also make another tomato sauce like this, but substitute stock for vinegar and skip the lemon juice and sugar.)
No. 11. Mushroom Sauce
Ingredients: Velute sauce, essence of mushrooms, butter.
Mix two dessert-spoonsful of essence of mushrooms with a cupful of Velute sauce (No. 2), reduce, keep on stirring, and just before serving add an ounce of butter. This sauce can be made with essence of truffle, or game, or shallot.
Combine two dessert spoons of mushroom essence with a cup of Velute sauce (No. 2), reduce while stirring continuously, and just before serving, add an ounce of butter. This sauce can also be made with truffle essence, game, or shallots.
No. 12. Neapolitan Sauce
Ingredients: Onions, ham, butter, Marsala, blond of veal, thyme, bay leaf, peppercorns, cloves, mushrooms, Espagnole sauce (No. 1), tomato sauce, game stock or essence.
Ingredients: Onions, ham, butter, Marsala, veal stock, thyme, bay leaf, peppercorns, cloves, mushrooms, Espagnole sauce (No. 1), tomato sauce, game stock or essence.
Fry an onion in butter with some bits of cut-up ham, then pour a glass of Marsala over it, and another of blond of veal, add a sprig of thyme, a bay leaf, four peppercorns, a clove, a tablespoonful of mushroom cuttings, and reduce half. In another saucepan put two cups of Espagnole sauce, one cupful of tomato sauce, and half a cup of game stock or essence. Reduce a third, and add the contents of the first saucepan, boil the sauce a few minutes, and pass it through a sieve. Warm it up in a bain-marie before using.
Sauté an onion in butter with some chopped ham, then pour in a glass of Marsala and another of light veal stock. Add a sprig of thyme, a bay leaf, four peppercorns, a clove, and a tablespoon of chopped mushrooms, then reduce by half. In another saucepan, combine two cups of Espagnole sauce, one cup of tomato sauce, and half a cup of game stock or essence. Reduce by a third, then mix in the contents of the first saucepan, boil the sauce for a few minutes, and strain it through a sieve. Warm it up in a double boiler before using.
No. 13. Neapolitan Anchovy Sauce
Ingredients: Anchovies, fennel, flour, spices, parsley, marjoram, garlic, lemon juice, vinegar, cream.
Ingredients: Anchovies, fennel, flour, spices, parsley, marjoram, garlic, lemon juice, vinegar, cream.
Wash three anchovies in vinegar, bone and pound them in a mortar with a teaspoonful of chopped fennel and a pinch of cinnamon. Then mix in a teaspoonful of chopped parsley and marjoram, a squeeze of lemon juice, a teaspoonful of flour, half a gill of boiled cream and the bones of the fish for which you will use this sauce. Pass through a sieve, add a clove of garlic with a cut in it, and boil. If the fish you are using is cooked in the oven, add a little of the liquor in which it has been cooked to the sauce. Take out the garlic before serving. Instead of anchovies you may use caviar, pickled tunny, or any other pickled fish.
Wash three anchovies in vinegar, remove the bones, and mash them in a mortar with a teaspoon of chopped fennel and a pinch of cinnamon. Then mix in a teaspoon of chopped parsley and marjoram, a squeeze of lemon juice, a teaspoon of flour, half a gill of boiled cream, and the bones of the fish you will use this sauce with. Strain through a sieve, add a clove of garlic that has been cut, and bring to a boil. If the fish you're using is cooked in the oven, add a little of the liquid it was cooked in to the sauce. Remove the garlic before serving. Instead of anchovies, you can use caviar, pickled tuna, or any other pickled fish.
No. 14. Roman Sauce (Salsa Agro-dolce)
Ingredients: Espagnole sauce, stock, burnt sugar, vinegar, raisins, pine nuts or almonds.
Ingredients: Espagnole sauce, broth, burnt sugar, vinegar, raisins, pine nuts or almonds.
Mix two spoonsful of burnt sugar with one of vinegar, and dilute with a little good stock. Then add two cups of Espagnole sauce (No. 1), a few stoned raisins, and a few pinocchi* (pine nuts) or shredded almonds. Keep this hot in a bain-marie, and serve with cutlets, calf's head or feet or tongue.
Mix two tablespoons of burnt sugar with one tablespoon of vinegar, and dilute with a bit of good stock. Then add two cups of Espagnole sauce (No. 1), a few pitted raisins, and some pine nuts or shredded almonds. Keep this warm in a bain-marie, and serve with cutlets, calf's head, feet, or tongue.
*The pinocchi which Italians use instead of almonds can be bought in London when in season.
*The pinocchi that Italians use instead of almonds can be bought in London when they are in season.*
No. 15. Roman Sauce (another way)
Ingredients: Espagnole sauce, an onion, butter, flour, lemon, herbs, nutmeg, raisins, pine nuts or almonds, burnt sugar.
Ingredients: Espagnole sauce, an onion, butter, flour, lemon, herbs, nutmeg, raisins, pine nuts or almonds, burnt sugar.
Cut up a small bit of onion, fry it slightly in butter and a little flour, add the juice of a lemon and a little of the peel grated, a bouquet of herbs, a pinch of nutmeg, a few stoned raisins, shredded almonds or pinocchi, and a tablespoonful of burnt sugar. Add this to a good Espagnole (No. 1), and warm it up in a bain-marie.
Chop a small piece of onion, sauté it lightly in butter with a bit of flour, add the juice of a lemon along with some grated lemon peel, a bunch of herbs, a pinch of nutmeg, a few pitted raisins, shredded almonds or pine nuts, and a tablespoon of burnt sugar. Mix this into a good Espagnole (No. 1) and heat it up in a double boiler.
No. 16. Supreme Sauce
Ingredients: White sauce, fowl stock, butter.
Put three-quarters of a pint of white sauce into a saucepan, and when it is nearly boiling add half a cup of concentrated fowl stock. Reduce until the sauce is quite thick, and when about to serve pass it through a tamis into a bain-marie and add two tablespoonsful of cream.
Put 3/4 of a pint of white sauce into a saucepan, and when it's almost boiling, add half a cup of concentrated chicken stock. Let it reduce until the sauce is thick, and just before serving, strain it through a fine sieve into a bain-marie and stir in two tablespoons of cream.
No. 17. Pasta marinate (For masking Italian Frys)
Ingredients: Semolina flour, eggs, salt, butter (or olive oil), vinegar, water.
Ingredients: Semolina flour, eggs, salt, butter (or olive oil), vinegar, water.
Mix the following ingredients well together: two ounces of semolina flour, the yolks of two eggs, a little salt, and two ounces of melted butter. Add a glass of water so as to form a liquid substance. At the last add the whites of two eggs beaten up to a snow. This will make a good paste for masking meat, fish, vegetables, or sweets which are to be fried in the Italian manner, but if for meat or vegetables add a few drops of vinegar or a little lemon juice.
Mix the following ingredients together well: two ounces of semolina flour, the yolks of two eggs, a pinch of salt, and two ounces of melted butter. Add a glass of water to create a liquid mixture. Finally, fold in the beaten egg whites until they’re fluffy. This will create a good batter for coating meat, fish, vegetables, or sweets that you plan to fry in the Italian style. If you’re using it for meat or vegetables, add a few drops of vinegar or a bit of lemon juice.
No. 18. White Villeroy
Ingredients: Butter, flour, eggs, cream, nutmeg, white stock.
Make a light-coloured roux by frying two ounces of butter and two ounces of flour, stir in some white stock and keep it very smooth. Let it boil, and add the yolks of three eggs, mixed with two tablespoonsful of cream and a pinch of nutmeg. Pass it through a sieve and use for masking cutlets, fish, &c.
Make a light-colored roux by frying two ounces of butter and two ounces of flour, then stir in some white stock and keep it very smooth. Let it boil, and add the yolks of three eggs, mixed with two tablespoons of cream and a pinch of nutmeg. Strain it through a sieve and use it to coat cutlets, fish, etc.
Soups
No. 19. Clear Soup
Ingredients: Stock meat, water, a bunch of herbs (thyme, parsley, chervil, bay leaf, basil, marjoram), three carrots, three turnips, three onions, three cloves stuck in the onions, one blade of mace.
Ingredients: meat stock, water, a handful of herbs (thyme, parsley, chervil, bay leaf, basil, marjoram), three carrots, three turnips, three onions, three cloves inserted in the onions, one blade of mace.
Cut up three pounds of stock meat small and put it in a stock pot with two quarts of cold water, three carrots, and three turnips cut up, three onions with a clove stuck in each one, a bunch of herbs and a blade of mace. Let it come to the boil and then draw it off, at once skim off all the scum, and keep it gently simmering, and occasionally add two or three tablespoonsful of cold water. Let it simmer all day, and then strain it through a fine cloth.
Cut three pounds of meat into small pieces and put it in a stock pot with two quarts of cold water, three chopped carrots, three chopped turnips, and three onions with a clove stuck in each. Add a bunch of herbs and a blade of mace. Bring it to a boil, then take it off the heat and skim off all the scum. Keep it gently simmering, adding two or three tablespoons of cold water occasionally. Let it simmer all day, then strain it through a fine cloth.
Some of the liquor in which a calf's head has been cooked, or even a calf's foot, will greatly improve a clear soup.
Some of the broth from cooking a calf's head, or even a calf's foot, will really enhance a clear soup.
The stock should never be allowed to boil as long as the meat and vegetables are in the stock pot.
The stock should never be allowed to boil while the meat and vegetables are in the pot.
No. 20. Zuppa Primaverile (Spring Soup)
Ingredients: Clear soup, vegetables.
Any fresh spring vegetables will do for this soup, but they must all be cooked separately and put into the soup at the last minute. It is best made with fresh peas, asparagus tips, and a few strips of tarragon.
Any fresh spring vegetables work for this soup, but they need to be cooked separately and added to the soup at the last minute. It’s best made with fresh peas, asparagus tips, and a few strips of tarragon.
No. 21. Soup alla Lombarda
Ingredients: Clear soup, fowl forcemeat, Bechamel (No. 3), peas, lobster butter, eggs, asparagus.
Ingredients: Clear soup, ground chicken, Bechamel (No. 3), peas, lobster butter, eggs, asparagus.
Make a firm forcemeat of fowl and divide it into three parts, to the first add two spoonsful of cream Bechamel, to the second four spoonsful of puree of green peas, to the third two spoonsful of lobster butter and the yolk of an egg; thus you will have the Italian colours, red, white, and green. Butter a pie dish and make little quenelles of the forcemeat. Just before serving boil them for four minutes in boiling stock, take them out carefully and put them in a warm soup tureen with two spoonsful of cooked green peas and pour a very fresh clear soup over them. Hand little croutons fried in lobster butter separately.
Make a smooth mixture of ground chicken and divide it into three portions. To the first portion, add two tablespoons of béchamel sauce; to the second, add four tablespoons of pureed green peas; and to the third, mix in two tablespoons of lobster butter and an egg yolk. This will give you the Italian colors: red, white, and green. Butter a pie dish and shape small dumplings from the mixture. Just before serving, boil them for four minutes in hot stock, carefully remove them, and place them in a warm soup bowl with two tablespoons of cooked green peas, then pour a fresh clear soup over them. Serve some small croutons fried in lobster butter on the side.
No. 22. Tuscan Soup
Ingredients: Stock, eggs.
Whip up three or four eggs, gradually add good stock to them, and keep on whisking them up until they begin to curdle. Keep the soup hot in a bain-marie.
Whisk together three or four eggs, slowly add some quality stock, and keep stirring until they start to curdle. Keep the soup warm in a bain-marie.
No. 23. Venetian Soup
Ingredients: Clear soup, butter, flour, Parmesan, eggs.
Make a roux by frying two ounces of butter and two ounces of flour, add an ounce of grated cheese and half a cup of good stock. Mix up well so as to form a paste, and then take it off the fire and add the yolks of four eggs, mix again and form the again and form the paste into little quenelles. Boil these in a little soup, strain off, put them into the tureen and pour a good clear soup over them.
Make a roux by melting two ounces of butter and mixing in two ounces of flour. Then, add an ounce of grated cheese and half a cup of good broth. Stir well to create a paste, then remove it from the heat and mix in the yolks of four eggs. Combine everything again and shape the paste into small quenelles. Boil these in a bit of soup, strain them out, place them into a serving bowl, and pour a nice clear soup over them.
No. 24. Roman Soup
Ingredients: Stock, butter, eggs, salt, crumb of bread, parsley, nutmeg, flour, Parmesan.
Ingredients: Stock, butter, eggs, salt, breadcrumbs, parsley, nutmeg, flour, Parmesan.
Mix three and a half ounces of butter with two eggs and four ounces of crumbs of bread soaked in stock, a little chopped parsley, salt, and a pinch of nutmeg. Reduce this and add two tablespoonsful of flour and one of grated Parmesan. Form this into little quenelles and boil them in stock for a few minutes put them into a tureen and pour a good clear soup over them.
Mix 3.5 ounces of butter with 2 eggs and 4 ounces of bread crumbs soaked in stock, a bit of chopped parsley, salt, and a pinch of nutmeg. Cook this mixture and add 2 tablespoons of flour and 1 of grated Parmesan. Shape this into small quenelles and boil them in stock for a few minutes, then place them in a serving dish and pour a nice clear soup over them.
No. 25. Soup alla Nazionale
Ingredients: Clear soup, savoury custard.
Make a savoury custard and divide it into three parts, one to be left white, another coloured red with tomato, and the third green with spinach. Put a layer of each in a buttered saucepan and cook for about ten minutes, cut it into dice, so that you have the three Italian colours (red, white, and green) together, then put the custard into a soup tureen and pour a good clear soup over it.
Make a savory custard and divide it into three parts: one kept plain white, another colored red with tomato, and the third green with spinach. Layer each color in a buttered saucepan and cook for about ten minutes. Cut it into dice, so you have the three Italian colors (red, white, and green) together, then place the custard into a soup tureen and pour a nice clear soup over it.
No. 26. Soup alla Modanese
Ingredients: Stock, spinach, butter, salt, eggs, Parmesan, nutmeg, croutons.
Ingredients: Broth, spinach, butter, salt, eggs, Parmesan cheese, nutmeg, croutons.
Wash one pound of spinach in five or six waters, then chop it very fine and mix it with three ounces of butter, salt it and warm it up. Then let it get cold, pass through a hair sieve, and add two eggs, a tablespoonful of grated Parmesan, and very little nutmeg. Add this to some boiling stock in a copper saucepan, put on the lid, and on the top put some hot coals so that the eggs may curdle and help to thicken the soup. Serve with fried croutons.
Wash one pound of spinach in five or six rinses, then chop it very finely and mix it with three ounces of butter, add some salt, and warm it up. Let it cool, then strain it through a fine sieve, and mix in two eggs, a tablespoon of grated Parmesan, and a pinch of nutmeg. Add this mixture to some boiling stock in a copper pot, cover it with a lid, and place some hot coals on top so that the eggs can curdle and help thicken the soup. Serve with fried croutons.
No. 27. Crotopo Soup
Ingredients: Clear soup, veal, ham, eggs, salt, pepper, nutmeg, rolls.
Pound half a pound of lean veal in a mortar, then add three ounces of cooked ham with some fat in it, the yolk of an egg, salt, pepper, and very little nutmeg. Pass through a sieve, cut some small French rolls into slices, spread them with the above mixture, and colour them in the oven. Then cut them in halves or quarters, put them into a tureen, and just before serving pour a very good clear soup over them.
Pound half a pound of lean veal in a mortar, then add three ounces of cooked ham with some fat, the yolk of an egg, salt, pepper, and a pinch of nutmeg. Pass it through a sieve, slice some small French rolls, spread them with the mixture, and bake them in the oven until golden. Then cut them in halves or quarters, place them in a serving dish, and just before serving, pour a very good clear soup over them.
No. 28. Soup all'Imperatrice
Ingredients: Breast of fowl, eggs, salt, pepper, ground rice, nutmeg, clear stock.
Ingredients: Chicken breast, eggs, salt, pepper, ground rice, nutmeg, clear broth.
Pound the breast of a fowl in a mortar, and add to it a teaspoonful of ground rice, the yolk of an egg, salt, pepper, and a pinch of nutmeg. Pass this through a sieve, form quenelles with it, and pour a good clear soup over them.
Pound the breast of a chicken in a mortar, then add a teaspoon of ground rice, the yolk of an egg, salt, pepper, and a pinch of nutmeg. Strain this through a sieve, shape it into quenelles, and pour some clear broth over them.
No. 29. Neapolitan Soup
Ingredients: Fowl, potato flour, eggs, Bechamel sauce, peas, asparagus, spinach, clear soup.
Ingredients: Chicken, potato flour, eggs, béchamel sauce, peas, asparagus, spinach, clear broth.
Mix a quarter pound of forcemeat of fowl with a tablespoonful of potato flour, a tablespoonful of Bechamel sauce (No. 3), and the yolk of an egg; put this into a tube about the size round of an ordinary macaroni; twenty minutes before serving squirt the forcemeat into a saucepan with boiling stock, and nip off the forcemeat as it comes through the pipe into pieces about an inch and a half long. Let it simmer, and add boiled peas and asparagus tips. If you like to have the fowl macaroni white and green, you can colour half the forcemeat with a spoonful of spinach colouring. Serve in a good clear soup.
Mix a quarter pound of ground fowl with a tablespoon of potato flour, a tablespoon of Bechamel sauce (No. 3), and the yolk of an egg. Put this mixture into a tube about the size of regular macaroni. Twenty minutes before serving, squirt the mixture into a saucepan with boiling broth, cutting off the shaped pieces as they come out of the tube, about an inch and a half long. Let it simmer, and add cooked peas and asparagus tips. If you want the fowl macaroni to be white and green, you can color half of the mixture with a spoonful of spinach coloring. Serve it in a clear soup.
No. 30. Soup with Risotto
Ingredients: Risotto (No. 189), eggs, bread crumbs, clear or brown soup.
If you have some good risotto left, you can use it up by making it into little balls the size of small nuts. Egg and bread crumb and fry them in butter; dry them and put them into a soup tureen with hot soup. The soup may be either clear or brown.
If you have some leftover risotto, you can use it by turning it into small balls about the size of nuts. Coat them in egg and bread crumbs, then fry them in butter; let them dry and place them into a soup tureen with hot soup. The soup can be either clear or brown.
No. 31. Soup alla Canavese
Ingredients: White stock, butter, onions, carrot, celery, tomato, cauliflower, fat bacon, parsley, sage, Parmesan, salt, pepper.
Ingredients: White stock, butter, onions, carrot, celery, tomato, cauliflower, fatty bacon, parsley, sage, Parmesan cheese, salt, pepper.
Chop up half an onion, half a carrot, half a stick of celery, a small bit of fat bacon, and fry them in two ounces of butter. Then cover them with good white stock, boil for a few minutes, pass through a sieve, and add two tablespoonsful of tomato puree. Then blanch half a cauliflower in salted water, let it get cold, drain all the water out of it, and break it up into little bunches and put them into a stock pot with the stock, a small leaf of dried sage, crumbled up, and a little chopped parsley, and let it all boil; add a pinch of grated cheese and some pepper. Serve with grated Parmesan handed separately.
Chop up half an onion, half a carrot, half a stick of celery, and a small piece of bacon, then fry them in two ounces of butter. Next, cover with good white stock, boil for a few minutes, strain through a sieve, and stir in two tablespoons of tomato purée. Blanch half a cauliflower in salted water, let it cool, drain it well, then break it into small florets and add them to a stock pot with the stock, a small crumbled leaf of dried sage, and some chopped parsley. Let it all boil; add a pinch of grated cheese and some pepper. Serve with grated Parmesan on the side.
No. 32. Soup alla Maria Pia
Ingredients: White stock, eggs, butter, peas, white beans, carrot, onion, leeks, celery, cream croutons.
Ingredients: White stock, eggs, butter, peas, white beans, carrot, onion, leeks, celery, cream croutons.
Soak one pound of white beans for twelve hours, then put them into a stock pot with a little salt, butter, and water, add a carrot, an onion, two leeks, and a stick of celery, and simmer until the vegetables are well cooked; then take out all the fresh vegetables, drain the beans and pass them through a sieve, but first dilute them with good stock. Put this puree into a stock pot with good white stock, and when it has boiled keep it hot in a bain-marie until you are about to serve; then mix the yolk of three eggs in a cup of cream, and add this to the soup. Pour the soup into a warm tureen, add some boiled green peas, and serve with fried croutons handed separately.
Soak one pound of white beans for twelve hours, then place them in a stockpot with a bit of salt, butter, and water. Add a carrot, an onion, two leeks, and a stick of celery, and simmer until the vegetables are cooked through. Afterward, remove all the fresh vegetables, drain the beans, and pass them through a sieve, but first mix them with good stock. Put this puree back into a stockpot with quality white stock, and once it boils, keep it warm in a bain-marie until you're ready to serve. Then, mix the yolk of three eggs in a cup of cream and add this to the soup. Pour the soup into a warm tureen, add some boiled green peas, and serve with fried croutons on the side.
No. 33. Zuppa d' Erbe (Lettuce Soup)
Ingredients: Stock, sorrel, endive, lettuce, chervil, celery, carrot, onion, French roll, Parmesan cheese.
Ingredients: Stock, sorrel, endive, lettuce, chervil, celery, carrot, onion, French roll, Parmesan cheese.
Boil the following vegetables and herbs in very good stock for an hour: Two small bunches of sorrel, a bunch of endive, a lettuce, a small bunch of chervil, a stick of celery, a carrot and an onion, all well washed and cut up. Then put some slices of toasted French roll into a tureen and pour the above soup over them. Serve with grated Parmesan handed separately.
Boil the following vegetables and herbs in high-quality stock for an hour: Two small bunches of sorrel, a bunch of endive, a lettuce, a small bunch of chervil, a stick of celery, a carrot, and an onion, all washed and chopped. Then place some slices of toasted French bread into a serving dish and pour the soup over them. Serve with grated Parmesan on the side.
No. 34. Zuppa Regina di Riso (Queen's Soup)
Ingredients: Fowl stock, ground rice, milk, butter.
Put a tablespoonful of ground rice into a saucepan and gradually add half a pint of milk, boil it gently for twelve minutes in a bainmarie, but stir the whole time, so as to get it very smooth. Just before serving add an ounce of butter, pass it through a sieve, and mix it with good fowl stock.
Put a tablespoon of ground rice into a saucepan and gradually add half a pint of milk. Gently boil it for twelve minutes in a bain-marie, stirring constantly to keep it smooth. Just before serving, add an ounce of butter, strain it through a sieve, and mix it with good chicken stock.
Minestre
Minestra is a thick broth, very much like hotch-potch, only thicker. In Italy it is often served at the beginning of dinner instead of soup; it also makes an excellent lunch dish. Two or three tablespoonsful of No. 35 will be found a great improvement to any of these minestre.
Minestra is a thick broth, similar to hotch-potch, but even thicker. In Italy, it's often served at the start of dinner instead of soup; it also makes a great lunch option. Adding two or three tablespoons of No. 35 will greatly enhance any of these minestre.
No. 35. A Condiment for Seasoning Minestre, &c.
Ingredients: Onions, celery, carrots, butter, salt, stock, tomatoes, mushrooms.
Ingredients: Onions, celery, carrots, butter, salt, broth, tomatoes, mushrooms.
Cut up an onion, a stick of celery, and a carrot; fry them in butter and salt; add a few bits of cooked ham and veal cut up, two mushrooms, and the pulp of a tomato. Cook for a quarter of an hour, and add a little stock occasionally to keep it moist. Pass through a sieve, and use for seasoning minestre, macaroni, rice, &c. It should be added when the dish is nearly cooked.
Chop an onion, a stick of celery, and a carrot; sauté them in butter and salt; add some pieces of cooked ham and veal, two mushrooms, and the flesh of a tomato. Cook for fifteen minutes, adding a little stock from time to time to keep it moist. Strain through a sieve, and use it to season minestrone, macaroni, rice, etc. It should be added when the dish is almost done cooking.
No. 36. Minestra alla Casalinga
Ingredients: Rice, butter, stock, vegetables.
All sorts of vegetables will serve for this dish. Blanch them in boiling salted water, then drain and fry them in butter. Add plenty of good stock, and put them on a slow fire. Boil four ounces of rice in stock, and when it is well done add the stock with the vegetables. Season with two or three spoonsful of No. 35, and serve with grated cheese handed separately.
Any kind of vegetables will work for this dish. Blanch them in boiling salted water, then drain and fry them in butter. Add plenty of good stock, and let it simmer on low heat. Cook four ounces of rice in the stock, and when it's fully cooked, combine it with the stock and the vegetables. Season with two or three tablespoons of No. 35, and serve with grated cheese on the side.
No. 37. Minestra of Rice and Turnips
Ingredients: Rice, turnips, butter, gravy, tomatoes.
Cut three or four young turnips into slices and put them on a dish, strew a little salt over them, cover them with another dish, and let them stand for about two hours until the water has run out of them. Then drain the slices, put them in a frying-pan and fry them slightly in butter. Add some good gravy and mashed-up tomatoes, and after having cooked this for a few minutes pour it into good boiling stock. Add three ounces of well-washed rice, and boil for half-an-hour.
Cut three or four young turnips into slices and place them on a dish. Sprinkle a little salt over them, cover with another dish, and let them sit for about two hours until they've released some moisture. Then drain the slices, put them in a frying pan, and sauté them lightly in butter. Add some good gravy and mashed tomatoes, and after cooking this for a few minutes, pour it into boiling stock. Add three ounces of well-washed rice and boil for half an hour.
Minestra loses its flavour if it is boiled too long. In Lombardy, however, rice, macaroni, &c., are rarely boiled enough for English tastes.
Minestra loses its flavor if it's boiled too long. In Lombardy, though, rice, macaroni, etc., are rarely cooked enough for English tastes.
No. 38. Minestra alla Capucina
Ingredients: Rice, anchovies, butter, stock, and onions.
Scale an anchovy, pound it, and fry it in butter together with a small onion cut across, and four ounces of boiled rice. Add a little salt, and when the rice is a golden brown, take out the onion and gradually add some good stock until the dish is of the consistency of rice pudding.
Scale an anchovy, mash it, and fry it in butter along with a small chopped onion and four ounces of boiled rice. Add a pinch of salt, and when the rice turns golden brown, remove the onion and slowly add some good stock until the dish reaches the consistency of rice pudding.
No. 39. Minestra of Semolina
Ingredients: Stock, semolina, Parmesan.
Put as much stock as you require into a saucepan, and when it begins to boil add semolina very gradually, and stir to keep it from getting lumpy Cook it until the semolina is soft, and serve with grated Parmesan handed separately. To one quart of soup use three ounces of semolina.
Put as much stock as you need into a saucepan, and when it starts to boil, slowly add semolina while stirring to prevent lumps. Cook it until the semolina is soft, and serve with grated Parmesan on the side. For one quart of soup, use three ounces of semolina.
No. 40. Minestrone alla Milanese
Ingredients: Rice or macaroni, ham, bacon, stock, all sorts of vegetables.
Ingredients: Rice or macaroni, ham, bacon, broth, all kinds of vegetables.
Minestrone is a favourite dish in Lombardy when vegetables are plentiful. Boil all sorts of vegetables in stock, and add bits of bacon, ham, onions braized in butter, chopped parsley, a clove of garlic with two cuts, and rice or macaroni. Put in those vegetables first which require most cooking, and do not make the broth too thin. Leave the garlic in for a quarter of an hour only.
Minestrone is a popular dish in Lombardy when vegetables are in abundance. Boil various types of vegetables in stock, and add pieces of bacon, ham, onions sautéed in butter, chopped parsley, and a clove of garlic with two slits cut into it, along with rice or macaroni. Start with the vegetables that take the longest to cook, and make sure the broth isn’t too watery. Remove the garlic after just fifteen minutes.
No. 41. Minestra of Rice and Cabbage
Ingredients: Rice, cabbage, stock, ham, tomato sauce.
Cut off the stalk and all the hard outside leaves of a cabbage, wash it and cut it up, but not too small, then drain and cook it in good stock and add two ounces of boiled rice. This minestre is improved by adding a little chopped ham and a few spoonsful of tomato sauce.
Cut off the stem and all the tough outer leaves of a cabbage, wash it and chop it up, but not too finely. Then drain and cook it in good broth and add two ounces of boiled rice. This soup is enhanced by adding a bit of chopped ham and a few spoonfuls of tomato sauce.
No. 42. Minestra of Rice and Celery
Ingredients: Celery, rice, stock.
Cut up a head of celery and remove all the green parts, then boil it in good stock and add two ounces of rice, and boil till it is well cooked.
Chop up a head of celery and take off all the green parts, then simmer it in good broth and add two ounces of rice, cooking until it's all well done.
Fish
No. 43. Anguilla alla Milanese (Eels).
Ingredients: Eels, butter, flour, stock, bay leaves, salt, pepper, Chablis, a macedoine of vegetables.
Ingredients: Eels, butter, flour, broth, bay leaves, salt, pepper, Chablis, a mix of diced vegetables.
Cut up a big eel and fry it in two ounces of butter, and when it is a good colour add a tablespoonful of flour, about half a pint of stock, a glass of Chablis, a bay leaf, pepper, and salt, and boil till it is well cooked. In the meantime boil separately all sorts of vegetables, such as carrots, cauliflower, celery, beans, tomatoes, &c. Take out the pieces of eel, but keep them hot, whilst you pass the liquor which forms the sauce through a sieve and add the vegetables to this. Let them boil a little longer and arrange them in a dish; place the pieces of eel on them and cover with the sauce. It is most important that the eels should be served very hot.
Cut up a large eel and fry it in two ounces of butter until it's nicely browned. Then add a tablespoon of flour, about half a pint of stock, a glass of Chablis, a bay leaf, pepper, and salt, and boil until it's fully cooked. At the same time, boil a variety of vegetables separately, such as carrots, cauliflower, celery, beans, tomatoes, etc. Remove the pieces of eel and keep them warm while you strain the sauce through a sieve and mix in the vegetables. Let it boil for a little longer and arrange everything on a dish; place the pieces of eel on top and pour the sauce over them. It's very important that the eels are served extremely hot.
Any sort of fish will do as well for this dish.
Any type of fish works just fine for this dish.
No. 44. Filletti di Pesce alla Villeroy (Fillets of Fish)
Ingredients: Fish, flour, butter, Villeroy.
Any sort of fish will do, turbot, sole, trout, &c. Cut it into fillets, flour them over and cook them in butter in a covered stewpan; then make a Villeroy (No. 18), dip the fillets into it and fry them in clarified butter.
Any kind of fish works, like turbot, sole, trout, etc. Cut it into fillets, coat them in flour, and cook them in butter in a covered pan. Then make a Villeroy (No. 18), dip the fillets into it, and fry them in clarified butter.
No. 45. Astachi all'Italiana (Lobster)
Ingredients: Lobsters, Velute sauce, Marsala, butter, forcemeat of fish, olives, anchovy butter, button mushrooms, truffles, lemon, crayfish, Italian sauce.
Ingredients: Lobsters, velouté sauce, Marsala wine, butter, fish forcemeat, olives, anchovy butter, button mushrooms, truffles, lemon, crayfish, Italian sauce.
Two boiled lobsters are necessary. Cut all the flesh of one of the lobsters into fillets and put them into a saucepan with half a cup of Velute sauce (No. 2) and half a glass of Marsala, and boil for a few minutes. Put a crouton of fried bread on an oval dish and cover it with a forcemeat of fish, and on this place the whole lobster, cover it with buttered paper, and put it in a moderate oven just long enough to cook the forcemeat. Then make some quenelles of anchovy butter, olives, and button mushrooms, mix them with Italian sauce (No. 6), and garnish the dish with them, and round the crouton arrange the fillets of lobster with a garnish of slices of truffle. Add a dessert-spoonful of crayfish butter and a good squeeze of lemon juice to the sauce, and serve.
You will need two boiled lobsters. Cut all the meat from one of the lobsters into fillets and place them in a saucepan with half a cup of Velute sauce (No. 2) and half a glass of Marsala. Bring it to a boil for a few minutes. Take a crouton of fried bread and place it on an oval dish, then cover it with a mixture of fish. Lay the whole lobster on top, cover it with buttered paper, and put it in a moderate oven just long enough to cook the fish mixture. Next, make some quenelles with anchovy butter, olives, and button mushrooms, and mix them with Italian sauce (No. 6) to garnish the dish. Arrange the lobster fillets around the crouton with some slices of truffle as a garnish. Add a dessert spoonful of crayfish butter and a good squeeze of lemon juice to the sauce, and serve.
No. 46. Baccala alla Giardiniera (Cod)
Ingredients: Cod or hake, carrots, turnips, butter, herbs.
Boil a piece of cod or hake and break it up into flakes, then cut up two carrots and a turnip; boil them gently, and when they are half boiled drain and put them into a stewpan with an ounce of butter, half a teacup of boiling water, salt, and herbs. When they are well cooked add the fish and serve. Fillets of lemon soles may also be cooked this way.
Boil a piece of cod or hake and flake it apart, then chop up two carrots and a turnip; simmer them gently, and when they’re half-cooked, drain them and put them in a pot with an ounce of butter, half a teacup of boiling water, salt, and herbs. Once they’re well cooked, add the fish and serve. You can also cook fillets of lemon sole this way.
No. 47. Triglie alla Marinara (Mullet)
Ingredients: Mullet, salt, pepper, onions, parsley, oil, water.
Cut a mullet into pieces and put it into a stewpan (with the lid on), with salt, pepper, a cut-up onion, some chopped parsley, half a wineglass of the finest olive oil and half a pint of water, and in this cook the fish gently. Arrange the fillets on a dish, pour a little of the broth over them, and add the onion and parsley. Instead of mullet you can use cod, hake, whiting, lemon sole, &c.
Cut a mullet into pieces and place it in a pot (with the lid on), along with salt, pepper, a chopped onion, some chopped parsley, half a wineglass of the best olive oil, and half a pint of water, and cook the fish gently in this mixture. Arrange the fillets on a plate, pour a little of the broth over them, and add the onion and parsley. Instead of mullet, you can use cod, hake, whiting, lemon sole, etc.
No. 48. Mullet alla Tolosa
Ingredients: Mullet, butter, salt, onions, parsley, almonds, anchovies, button mushrooms, tomatoes.
Ingredients: Mullet, butter, salt, onions, parsley, almonds, anchovies, button mushrooms, tomatoes.
Cut off the fins and gills of a mullet, put it in a fireproof dish with two ounces of butter and salt. Cut up a small bit of onion, a sprig of parsley, a few blanched almonds, one anchovy, and a few button mushrooms, previously softened in hot water, and put them over the fish and bake for twenty minutes Then add two tablespoonsful of tomato sauce or puree, and when cooked serve. If you like, use sole instead of mullet.
Cut off the fins and gills of a mullet, place it in a fireproof dish with two ounces of butter and some salt. Chop up a small piece of onion, a sprig of parsley, a few blanched almonds, one anchovy, and a few button mushrooms that have been softened in hot water, and put them on top of the fish. Bake for twenty minutes. Then add two tablespoons of tomato sauce or puree, and serve when cooked. If you prefer, you can use sole instead of mullet.
No. 49. Mullet alla Triestina
Ingredients: Mullet (or sole or turbot), butter, salt half a lemon, Chablis.
Ingredients: Mullet (or sole or turbot), butter, salt, half a lemon, Chablis.
Put the fish in a fireproof dish with one and a half ounces of butter, salt, a squeeze of lemon juice, and half a glass of Chablis. Put it on a very, slow fire and turn the fish when necessary. When it is cooked serve in the dish.
Put the fish in a fireproof dish with 1.5 ounces of butter, salt, a squeeze of lemon juice, and half a glass of Chablis. Set it on a very low heat and flip the fish when needed. Once it's cooked, serve it in the dish.
No. 50. Whiting alla Genovese
Ingredients: Whiting, butter, pepper, salt, bay leaf claret, parsley, onions, garlic capers, vinegar, Espagnole sauce, mushrooms, anchovies.
Ingredients: Whiting, butter, pepper, salt, bay leaf, red wine, parsley, onions, garlic, capers, vinegar, Espagnole sauce, mushrooms, anchovies.
Put one or two whiting into a stewpan with two ounces of butter, salt, pepper, two bay leaves, and a glass of claret or Burgundy; cook on a hot fire and turn the fish when necessary. Have ready beforehand a remoulade sauce made in the following manner: Put in a saucepan 1 1/2 ounces of butter, half a teaspoonful of chopped parsley, half an onion, a clove of garlic (with one cut), four capers, one anchovy, all chopped up except the garlic. Then add three tablespoonsful of vinegar and reduce the sauce. Add two glasses of Espagnole sauce (No. 1) and a little good stock; boil it all up (take out the garlic and bay leaves) and pass through a sieve, then pour it over the whiting. Boil it all again for a few minutes, and before serving garnish with a few button mushrooms cooked separately. The remoulade sauce will be much better if made some hours beforehand.
Put one or two whiting fish into a saucepan with two ounces of butter, salt, pepper, two bay leaves, and a glass of claret or Burgundy. Cook over a high heat, turning the fish as needed. Prepare a remoulade sauce in advance by putting 1.5 ounces of butter in a saucepan along with half a teaspoon of chopped parsley, half an onion, a clove of garlic (sliced), four capers, and one chopped anchovy. Add three tablespoons of vinegar and reduce the sauce. Then, mix in two glasses of Espagnole sauce (No. 1) and a bit of good stock; bring it to a boil (removing the garlic and bay leaves) and strain it through a sieve, then pour it over the whiting. Boil everything again for a few minutes, and before serving, garnish with a few button mushrooms cooked separately. The remoulade sauce will taste much better if made a few hours in advance.
No. 51. Merluzzo in Bianco (Cod)
Ingredients: Cod or whiting, salt, onions, parsley, cloves, turnips, marjoram, chervil, milk.
Ingredients: Cod or whiting, salt, onions, parsley, cloves, turnips, marjoram, chervil, milk.
Boil gently in a big cupful of salted water two onions, one turnip, a pinch of chopped parsley, chervil, and marjoram and four cloves. After half an hour pass this through a sieve (but first take out the cloves), and add an equal quantity of milk and a little cream, and in this cook the fish and serve with the sauce over it.
Boil gently in a large cup of salted water two onions, one turnip, a pinch of chopped parsley, chervil, and marjoram, and four cloves. After half an hour, strain this through a sieve (but first remove the cloves), and add an equal amount of milk and a little cream. Cook the fish in this mixture and serve with the sauce over it.
No. 52. Merluzzo in Salamoia (Cod)
Ingredients: Cod, hake, whiting or red mullet, onions, parsley, mint, marjoram, turnips, mushrooms, chervil, cloves, salt, milk, cream, eggs.
Ingredients: Cod, hake, whiting, or red mullet; onions, parsley, mint, marjoram, turnips, mushrooms, chervil, cloves, salt, milk, cream, and eggs.
Put a salt-spoonful of salt, two onions, a little parsley, marjoram, mint, chervil, a turnip, a mushroom, and the heads of two cloves into a stewpan and simmer in a cupful of milk for half an hour, then let all the ingredients settle at the bottom, and pass the broth through a hair sieve, and add to it an equal quantity of milk or cream, and in it cook your fish on a slow fire. When the fish is quite cooked, pour off the sauce, but leave a little on the fish to keep it warm; reduce the rest in a bain-marie; stir all the time, so that the milk may not curdle. Thicken the sauce with the yolk of an egg, and when about to serve pour it over the fish.
Put a spoonful of salt, two onions, a little parsley, marjoram, mint, chervil, a turnip, a mushroom, and the heads of two cloves into a saucepan and simmer in a cup of milk for half an hour. Then let all the ingredients settle at the bottom and strain the broth through a fine sieve, adding an equal amount of milk or cream. Cook your fish in this mixture over low heat. Once the fish is fully cooked, pour off the sauce, leaving a little on the fish to keep it warm; reduce the rest in a bain-marie, stirring constantly to prevent the milk from curdling. Thicken the sauce with the yolk of an egg, and when you're ready to serve, pour it over the fish.
No. 53. Baccala in Istufato (Haddock)
Ingredients: Haddock or lemon sole, carrots, anchovies, lemon, pepper, butter, onions, flour, white wine, stock.
Ingredients: Haddock or lemon sole, carrots, anchovies, lemon, pepper, butter, onions, flour, white wine, stock.
Stuff a haddock (or filleted lemon sole) with some slices of carrot which have been masked with a paste made of pounded anchovies, very little chopped lemon peel, salt and pepper. Then fry an onion with two cuts across it in butter. Take out the onion as soon as it has become a golden colour, flour the fish and put it in the butter, and when it has been well fried on both sides pour a glass of Marsala over it, and when it is all absorbed add a cup of fowl or veal stock and let it simmer for half an hour, then skim and reduce the sauce, pour it over the fish and serve.
Stuff a haddock (or filleted lemon sole) with some slices of carrot that have been mixed with a paste made of crushed anchovies, a bit of chopped lemon peel, salt, and pepper. Next, fry an onion that has been cut twice across in butter. Remove the onion as soon as it turns golden. Dredge the fish in flour and place it in the butter, and once it’s nicely browned on both sides, pour a glass of Marsala over it. When that’s absorbed, add a cup of chicken or veal stock and let it simmer for half an hour. Then skim and reduce the sauce, pour it over the fish, and serve.
No. 54. Naselli con Piselli (Whiting)
Ingredients: Whiting, onions, parsley, peas, tomatoes, butter, Parmesan, Bechamel sauce.
Ingredients: Whiting, onions, parsley, peas, tomatoes, butter, Parmesan, Bechamel sauce.
Cut a big whiting into two or three pieces and fry them slightly in butter, add a small bit of onion, a teaspoonful of chopped parsley and fry for a few minutes more. Then add some peas which have been cooked in salted water, three tablespoonsful of Bechamel sauce (No. 3), and three of tomato puree, and cook all together on a moderate fire.
Cut a large whiting into two or three pieces and lightly fry them in butter, add a small amount of onion, a teaspoon of chopped parsley, and fry for a few more minutes. Then add some peas that have been cooked in salted water, three tablespoons of Bechamel sauce (No. 3), and three tablespoons of tomato puree, and cook everything together over moderate heat.
No. 55. Ostriche alla Livornese (Oysters)
Ingredients: Oysters, parsley, shallot, anchovies, fennel pepper, bread crumbs, cream, lemon.
Ingredients: Oysters, parsley, shallots, anchovies, fennel seeds, bread crumbs, cream, lemon.
Detach the oysters from their shells and put then into china shells with their own liquor. Have ready a dessert-spoonful of parsley, shallot, anchovy and very little fennel, add a tablespoonful of bread crumbs and a little pepper, and mix the whole with a little cream. Put some of this mixture on each oyster, and then bake them in a moderate fire for a quarter of an hour. At the last minute add a squeeze of lemon juice to each oyster and serve on a folded napkin.
Detach the oysters from their shells and place them in china shells with their own juice. Have ready a dessert spoonful of parsley, shallot, anchovy, and just a little fennel, then add a tablespoon of bread crumbs and a pinch of pepper, and mix everything with a bit of cream. Spoon some of this mixture onto each oyster, then bake them in a moderate oven for fifteen minutes. Just before serving, add a squeeze of lemon juice to each oyster and serve on a folded napkin.
No. 56. Ostriche alla Napolitana (Oysters)
Ingredients: Oysters, parsley, celery, thyme, pepper, garlic, oil, lemon.
Ingredients: Oysters, parsley, celery, thyme, pepper, garlic, oil, lemon.
Prepare the oysters as above, but rub each shell with a little garlic. Put on each oyster a mixture made of chopped parsley, a little thyme, pepper, and bread crumbs. Then pour a few drops of oil on each shell, put them on the gridiron on an open fire, grill for a few minutes, and add a little lemon juice before serving.
Prepare the oysters as mentioned earlier, but rub each shell with a bit of garlic. Top each oyster with a mixture of chopped parsley, a little thyme, pepper, and bread crumbs. Then drizzle a few drops of oil on each shell, place them on the grill over an open fire, grill for a few minutes, and add a little lemon juice before serving.
No. 57. Ostriche alla Veneziana (Oysters)
Ingredients: Oysters, butter, shallots, truffles, lemon juice, forcemeat of fish.
Ingredients: Oysters, butter, shallots, truffles, lemon juice, and fish forcemeat.
Take several oysters out of their shells and cook them in butter, a little chopped shallot, and their own liquor, add a little lemon juice and then put in each of the deeper shells a layer of forcemeat made of fish and chopped truffles, then an oyster or two, and over this again another layer of the forcemeat, cover up with the top shell and put them in a fish kettle and steam them. Then remove the top shell and arrange the shells with the oysters on a napkin and serve.
Take several oysters out of their shells and cook them in butter with a bit of chopped shallot and their own juices. Add a splash of lemon juice, then in each of the deeper shells, layer in some fish forcemeat and chopped truffles, followed by one or two oysters, and then another layer of the forcemeat. Cover with the top shell and place them in a fish kettle to steam. After steaming, remove the top shell and arrange the shells with the oysters on a napkin to serve.
No. 58. Pesci diversi alla Casalinga (Fish)
Ingredients: Any sort of fish, celery, parsley, carrots, garlic, onion, anchovies, almonds, capers, mushrooms, butter, salt, pepper, flour, tomatoes.
Ingredients: Any type of fish, celery, parsley, carrots, garlic, onion, anchovies, almonds, capers, mushrooms, butter, salt, pepper, flour, tomatoes.
Chop up a stick of celery, a sprig of parsley, a carrot, an onion. Pound up an anchovy in brine (well cleaned, boned, and scaled), four shredded almonds, three capers and two mushrooms. Put all this into a saucepan with one ounce of butter, salt and pepper, and fry for a few minutes, then add a few spoonsful of hot water and a tablespoonful of flour and boil gently for ten minutes, put in the fish and cook it until it is done. If you like, you may add a little tomato sauce.
Chop up a stick of celery, a sprig of parsley, a carrot, and an onion. Mash an anchovy in brine (well cleaned, boned, and scaled), four crushed almonds, three capers, and two mushrooms. Put everything in a saucepan with one ounce of butter, salt, and pepper, and sauté for a few minutes. Then add a few tablespoons of hot water and a tablespoon of flour, and let it simmer gently for ten minutes. Add the fish and cook it until it’s done. If you want, you can add a little tomato sauce.
No. 59. Pesce alla Genovese (Sole or Turbot)
Ingredients: Fish (sole, mullet, or turbot), butter, salt, onion, garlic, carrots, celery, parsley, nutmeg, pepper, spice, mushrooms, tomatoes, flour, anchovies.
Ingredients: Fish (sole, mullet, or turbot), butter, salt, onion, garlic, carrots, celery, parsley, nutmeg, pepper, spices, mushrooms, tomatoes, flour, anchovies.
Fry an onion slightly in one and a half ounces of butter, add a small cut-up carrot, half a stick of celery, a sprig of parsley, and a salt anchovy (scaled), which will dissolve in the butter. Into this put the fish cut up in pieces, a pinch of spice and pepper, and let it simmer for a few minutes, then add two cut-up mushrooms, a tomato mashed up, and a little flour. Mix all together, and cook for twenty minutes.
Sauté an onion in one and a half ounces of butter, then add a chopped carrot, half a stick of celery, a sprig of parsley, and a salt-preserved anchovy (scaled) that will dissolve in the butter. Add the fish cut into pieces, a pinch of spice and pepper, and let it simmer for a few minutes. Next, incorporate two chopped mushrooms, a mashed tomato, and a bit of flour. Mix everything together and cook for twenty minutes.
No. 60. Sogliole in Zimino (Sole)
Ingredients: Sole, onion, beetroot, butter, celery, tomato sauce or white wine.
Ingredients: Sole, onion, beetroot, butter, celery, tomato sauce or white wine.
Cut up a small onion and fry it slightly in one ounce of butter, then add some slices of beetroot (well-washed and drained), and a little celery cut up; to this add fillets of sole or haddock, salt and pepper. Boil on a moderate on the fish kettle. When the beetroot is nearly cooked add two tablespoonsful of tomato puree and boil till all is well cooked. Instead of the tomato you may use half a glass of Chablis.
Chop a small onion and sauté it in one ounce of butter, then add some slices of beetroot (well-washed and drained) and some chopped celery. Next, add fillets of sole or haddock, salt, and pepper. Cook it in a fish kettle over moderate heat. When the beetroot is almost done, stir in two tablespoons of tomato puree and continue cooking until everything is well cooked. If you prefer, you can replace the tomato with half a glass of Chablis.
No. 61. Sogliole al tegame (Sole)
Ingredients: Sole (or mullet), butter, anchovies, parsley, garlic, capers, eggs.
Ingredients: Sole (or mullet), butter, anchovies, parsley, garlic, capers, eggs.
Put an ounce of butter and an anchovy in a saucepan together with a sole or mullet. Fry lightly for a few minutes, then strew a little pepper and chopped parsley over it, put in a clove of garlic with one cut, and cook for half an hour, but turn the fish over when one side is sufficiently done. A few minutes before taking it off the fire add three capers and stir in the yolk of an egg at the last minute. Do not leave the garlic in more than five minutes.
Put an ounce of butter and an anchovy in a saucepan along with a sole or mullet. Lightly fry for a few minutes, then sprinkle a little pepper and chopped parsley over it, add a clove of garlic with one cut, and cook for half an hour, flipping the fish when one side is cooked enough. A few minutes before you take it off the heat, add three capers and stir in the yolk of an egg right at the end. Don’t leave the garlic in for more than five minutes.
No. 62. Sogliole alla Livornese (Sole)
Ingredients: Sole, butter, garlic, pepper, salt, tomatoes, fennel.
Fillet a sole and put it in a saute-pan with one and a half ounces of butter and a clove of garlic with one cut in it, then sprinkle over it a little chopped fennel, salt and pepper, and let it cook for a few minutes. Turn over the fillets w hen they are sufficiently cooked on one side, take out the garlic and cover the fish with a puree of tomatoes at the last.
Fillet a sole and place it in a sauté pan with one and a half ounces of butter and a clove of garlic that's been cut in half. Then sprinkle a bit of chopped fennel, salt, and pepper on top, and let it cook for a few minutes. Flip the fillets when they're cooked on one side, remove the garlic, and top the fish with a tomato puree at the end.
No. 63. Sogliole alla Veneziana (Sole)
Ingredients: Sole, anchovies, butter, bacon, onion, stock, Chablis, salt, nutmeg, parsley, Spanish olives, one bay leaf.
Ingredients: Sole, anchovies, butter, bacon, onion, broth, Chablis, salt, nutmeg, parsley, Spanish olives, one bay leaf.
Fillet a sole and interlard each piece with a bit of anchovy. Tie up the fillets and put them in a saute-pan with two ounces of butter, a slice of bacon or ham, and a few small slices of onion. Cover half over with good stock and a glass of Chablis, and add salt, a pinch of nutmeg, a bunch of parsley, and a bay leaf. Cover with buttered paper, and cook on a slow fire for about an hour. Drain the fish, pass the liquor through a sieve, reduce it to the consistency of a thick sauce, and pour it over the fish. Garnish each fillet with a Spanish olive stuffed with anchovy.
Fillet a sole and layer each piece with a bit of anchovy. Tie the fillets together and place them in a sauté pan with two ounces of butter, a slice of bacon or ham, and a few small slices of onion. Pour in enough good stock to cover half the fillets, along with a glass of Chablis. Season with salt, a pinch of nutmeg, a bunch of parsley, and a bay leaf. Cover with buttered parchment paper and cook on low heat for about an hour. Drain the fish, strain the liquid through a sieve, reduce it to a thick sauce, and pour it over the fish. Garnish each fillet with a Spanish olive stuffed with anchovy.
No. 64. Sogliole alla Parmigiana (Sole).*
Ingredients: Sole, Parmesan, butter, cream, cayenne.
Fillet a sole and wipe each piece with a clean cloth, then place them in a fireproof dish, and put a small piece of butter on each fillet. Then make a good white sauce, and mix it with two tablespoonsful of grated Parmesan and half a gill of cream. Cover the fish well with the sauce, and bake in a moderate oven for twenty minutes.
Fillet a sole and wipe each piece with a clean cloth, then place them in a fireproof dish, and put a small piece of butter on each fillet. Then make a good white sauce and mix it with two tablespoons of grated Parmesan and half a cup of cream. Cover the fish well with the sauce and bake in a moderate oven for twenty minutes.
*Lemon soles may be used in any of the above-named dishes.
*Lemon soles can be used in any of the dishes mentioned above.*
No. 65. Salmone alla Genovese (Salmon)
Ingredients: Salmon, Genoese sauce (No. 5), butter, lemon.
Boil a bit of salmon, drain it, take off the skin, and mask it with a Genoese sauce, to which add a spoonful of the water in which the salmon has been boiled, and at the last add a pat of fresh butter and a squeeze of lemon juice.
Boil some salmon, drain it, remove the skin, and cover it with a Genoese sauce. Add a spoonful of the water used to boil the salmon, and finally, incorporate a bit of fresh butter and a squeeze of lemon juice.
No. 66. Salmone alla Perigo (Salmon)
Ingredients: Salmon, forcemeat of fish, truffles, butter, Madeira, croutons of bread, crayfish tails, anchovy butter.
Ingredients: Salmon, fish forcemeat, truffles, butter, Madeira, croutons, crayfish tails, anchovy butter.
Cut a bit of salmon into well shaped fillets, and marinate them in lemon juice and a bunch of herbs for two hours, wipe them, put a layer of forcemeat of fish over each, and decorate them with slices of truffle. When put them into a well-buttered saute-pan with half a cup of stock and a glass of Madeira or Marsala, cover with buttered paper, and put them into a moderate oven for twenty minutes. Arrange the fillets in a circle on croutons of bread, garnish the centre with crayfish tails and with truffles cut into dice, a quarter of a pint of Velute sauce (No. 2), and half a teaspoonful of anchovy butter. Glaze the fillets and serve.
Cut a piece of salmon into nicely shaped fillets and marinate them in lemon juice and a mix of herbs for two hours. Wipe them dry, spread a layer of fish paste over each one, and top with slices of truffle. Then, place them in a well-buttered sauté pan with half a cup of stock and a glass of Madeira or Marsala. Cover with buttered paper and bake in a moderate oven for twenty minutes. Arrange the fillets in a circle on toasted bread slices, and decorate the center with crayfish tails and diced truffles, along with a quarter of a pint of Veloute sauce (No. 2) and half a teaspoon of anchovy butter. Glaze the fillets and serve.
No. 67. Salmone alla giardiniera (Salmon)
Ingredients: Salmon, forcemeat of fish, vegetables, butter, Bechamel, and Espagnole sauce.
Ingredients: Salmon, fish pâté, vegetables, butter, béchamel sauce, and Espagnole sauce.
Prepare the fillets as above (No. 66), and put on each a layer of white forcemeat of fish. Cook a macedoine of vegetables separately, and garnish each fillet with some of it, then cook them in a covered stewpan Put a crouton of bread in an entree dish and garnish it with cooked peas, mixed with Bechamel sauce (No. 3), stock, and butter. Around this place the fillets of fish, leaving the centre with the peas uncovered. Pour some rich Espagnole sauce (No. 1) round the fillets and serve.
Prepare the fillets as described above (No. 66), and add a layer of white fish forcemeat on each one. Cook a mix of vegetables separately, and top each fillet with some of them. Then, cook them in a covered saucepan. Place a piece of toasted bread in an entrée dish and garnish it with cooked peas mixed with Bechamel sauce (No. 3), stock, and butter. Arrange the fillets of fish around this, leaving the center with the peas uncovered. Pour some rich Espagnole sauce (No. 1) around the fillets and serve.
No. 68. Salmone alla Farnese (Salmon)
Ingredients: Salmon, oil, lemon juice, thyme, salt, pepper, nutmeg, mayonnaise sauce, lobster butter, gelatine, Velute sauce, olives, anchovy butter, white truffles, mushrooms in oil, crayfish.
Ingredients: Salmon, oil, lemon juice, thyme, salt, pepper, nutmeg, mayonnaise sauce, lobster butter, gelatin, Velouté sauce, olives, anchovy butter, white truffles, mushrooms in oil, crayfish.
Boil a piece of salmon, and when cold cut it into fillets and marinate them for two hours in oil, lemon juice, salt, thyme pepper, and nutmeg. Then make a good mayonnaise and add to it some lobster butter mixed with a little dissolved gelatine and Velute sauce (No. 2). Wipe the fillets and arrange them in a circle on a dish, and pour the mayonnaise over them. Then decorate the border of the dish with aspic jelly, and in the centre put some stoned Spanish olives stuffed with anchovy butter, truffles, mushrooms in oil, and crayfish tails.
Boil a piece of salmon, and when it's cool, cut it into fillets and marinate them for two hours in oil, lemon juice, salt, thyme, pepper, and nutmeg. Then prepare a good mayonnaise and mix in some lobster butter combined with a little dissolved gelatin and Velouté sauce (No. 2). Pat the fillets dry and arrange them in a circle on a plate, then pour the mayonnaise over them. Next, decorate the edge of the plate with aspic jelly, and in the center, place some pitted Spanish olives stuffed with anchovy butter, truffles, mushrooms in oil, and crayfish tails.
No. 69. Salmone alla Santa Fiorentina (Salmon)
Ingredients: Salmon, eggs, mayonnaise, parsley, flour.
Marinate a piece of boiled salmon for an hour; take out the bone and cut the fish into fillets, wipe them, roll them in flour and dip them in eggs beaten up or in mayonnaise sauce, and fry them a good colour. Arrange in a circle on the dish, garnish with fried parsley, and serve with Dutch or mayonnaise sauce. Any fillets of fish may be cooked in this manner.
Marinate a piece of boiled salmon for an hour; remove the bone and cut the fish into fillets, wipe them, roll them in flour, and dip them in beaten eggs or mayonnaise sauce, then fry until golden. Arrange them in a circle on the plate, garnish with fried parsley, and serve with Dutch or mayonnaise sauce. Any fish fillets can be cooked this way.
No. 70. Salmone alla Francesca (Salmon)
Ingredients: Salmon, butter, onions, parsley, salt, pepper, nutmeg, stock, Chablis, Espagnole sauce (No.1) mushrooms, anchovy butter, lemon.
Ingredients: Salmon, butter, onions, parsley, salt, pepper, nutmeg, stock, Chablis, Espagnole sauce (No.1), mushrooms, anchovy butter, lemon.
Put a firm piece of salmon in a stewpan with one and a half ounces of butter, an onion cut up, a teaspoonful of chopped parsley (blanched), salt, pepper, very little nutmeg, a cup of stock, and a glass of Chablis. Cook for half an hour over a hot fire, turn the salmon occasionally, and if it gets dry, add a cup of Espagnole sauce. Let it boil until sufficiently cooked, and then put it on a dish. Into the sauce put four mushrooms cooked in white sauce, half a teaspoonful of anchovy butter and a little lemon juice. Pour the sauce over the salmon and serve.
Put a solid piece of salmon in a saucepan with one and a half ounces of butter, a chopped onion, a teaspoon of blanched chopped parsley, salt, pepper, a pinch of nutmeg, a cup of stock, and a glass of Chablis. Cook for half an hour over a high heat, turning the salmon occasionally, and if it gets dry, add a cup of Espagnole sauce. Let it boil until it’s cooked through, then transfer it to a plate. For the sauce, add four mushrooms cooked in white sauce, half a teaspoon of anchovy butter, and a little lemon juice. Pour the sauce over the salmon and serve.
No. 71. Fillets of Salmon in Papiliotte
Ingredients: Salmon, oil, lemon juice, salt, pepper, nutmeg, herbs.
Cut a piece of salmon into fillets, marinate them in oil, lemon juice, salt, pepper, nutmeg, and herbs for two hours. Wipe and put them into paper souffle cases with a little oil, butter, and herbs. Cook them on a gridiron, and serve with a sauce piquante made in the following manner: Half a pint of rich Espagnole sauce (No. 1) and a dessert-spoonful of New Century{*} sauce, warmed up in a bain-marie.
Cut a piece of salmon into fillets, soak them in oil, lemon juice, salt, pepper, nutmeg, and herbs for two hours. Wipe them off and place them into paper souffle cups with a bit of oil, butter, and herbs. Cook them on a grill, and serve with a spicy sauce made as follows: Half a pint of rich Espagnole sauce (No. 1) and a teaspoon of New Century{*} sauce, warmed up in a bain-marie.
*Can be obtained at Messrs Lazenby's, Wigmoree Street, W.
*Can be picked up at Lazenby's, Wigmore Street, W.
Beef, Mutton, Veal, Lamb, &C.
No. 72. Manzo alla Certosina (Fillet of Beef)
Ingredients: Fillet of beef or rump steak, bacon, olive oil, salt, nutmeg, anchovies, herbs, stock, garlic.
Ingredients: Beef fillet or rump steak, bacon, olive oil, salt, nutmeg, anchovies, herbs, stock, garlic.
Put a piece of very tender rump steak or fillet of beef into a stewpan with two slices of fat bacon and three teaspoonsful of the finest olive oil; season with salt and a tiny pinch of nutmeg; let it cook uncovered, and turn the meat over occasionally. When it is nicely browned add an anchovy minced and mixed with chopped herbs, and a small clove of garlic with one cut across it. Then cover the whole with good stock, put the cover on the stewpan, and when it is all sufficiently cooked, skim the grease off the sauce, pass it through a sieve, and pour it over the beef. Leave the garlic in for five minutes only.
Put a piece of very tender rump steak or beef fillet into a pot with two slices of fatty bacon and three teaspoons of the best olive oil; season with salt and a tiny pinch of nutmeg; let it cook uncovered, turning the meat occasionally. When it’s nicely browned, add a minced anchovy mixed with chopped herbs, and a small clove of garlic with one cut across it. Then cover everything with good stock, put the lid on the pot, and when it’s all cooked through, skim the grease off the sauce, strain it through a sieve, and pour it over the beef. Leave the garlic in for just five minutes.
No. 73. Stufato alla Florentina (Stewed Beef)
Ingredients: Beef, mutton, or veal, onions, rosemary, Burgundy, tomatoes, stock, potatoes, butter, garlic.
Ingredients: Beef, lamb, or veal, onions, rosemary, Burgundy wine, tomatoes, broth, potatoes, butter, garlic.
Cut up an onion and three leaves of rosemary, fry them slightly in an ounce of butter, then add meat (beef, mutton, or veal), cut into fair-sized pieces, salt it and fry it a little, then pour half a glass of Burgundy over it, and add two tablespoonsful of tomato conserve, or better still, fresh tomatoes in a puree. Cover up the stewpan and cook gently, stir occasionally, and add some stock if the stew gets too dry. If you like to add potatoes, cut them up, put them in the stewpan an hour before serving, and cook them with the meat. A clove of garlic with one cut may be added for five minutes.
Chop up an onion and three sprigs of rosemary, lightly fry them in an ounce of butter, then add meat (beef, lamb, or veal) cut into medium-sized pieces, season it with salt, and cook it a bit. Pour half a glass of Burgundy over it, and add two tablespoons of tomato paste, or even better, fresh tomatoes puréed. Cover the pot and simmer gently, stirring occasionally, and add some broth if the stew gets too dry. If you want to add potatoes, chop them up and put them in the pot an hour before serving, cooking them along with the meat. You can also add a clove of garlic that’s been cut in half for the last five minutes of cooking.
No. 74. Coscia di Manzo al Forno (Rump Steak)
Ingredients: Rump steak, ham, salt, pepper, spice, fat bacon, onion, stock, white wine.
Ingredients: Rump steak, ham, salt, pepper, spices, fatty bacon, onion, broth, white wine.
Lard a bit of good rump steak with bits of lean ham, and season it with salt, pepper, and a little spice, slightly brown it in butter for a few minutes, then cover it with three or four slices of fat bacon and put it into a stewpan with an onion chopped up, a cup of good stock, and half a glass of white wine; cook with the cover on the stewpan for about an hour. You may add a clove of garlic for ten minutes.
Lard a piece of good rump steak with bits of lean ham, and season it with salt, pepper, and a bit of spice. Lightly brown it in butter for a few minutes, then cover it with three or four slices of fatty bacon and put it in a stewpan with a chopped onion, a cup of good stock, and half a glass of white wine. Cook with the lid on the stewpan for about an hour. You can add a clove of garlic for the last ten minutes.
No. 75. Polpettine alla Salsa Piccante (Beef Olives)
Ingredients: Beef steak, butter, onions, stock, sausage meat.
Cut some thin slices of beef steak, and on each place a little forcemeat of fowl or veal, to which add a little sausage meat: roll up the slices of beef and cook them with butter and onions, and when they are well browned pour some stock over them, and let them absorb it. Serve with a tomato sauce (No. 10), or sauce piquante made with a quarter of a pint of rich Espagnole (No. 1), and a dessert-spoonful of New Century sauce (see No. 71 note).
Cut some thin slices of beef steak, and on each slice place a bit of ground chicken or veal, mixed with a little sausage meat. Roll up the slices of beef and cook them with butter and onions. Once they’re nicely browned, pour some stock over them and let them soak it up. Serve with a tomato sauce (No. 10) or a tangy sauce made with a quarter of a pint of rich Espagnole (No. 1) and a dessert spoonful of New Century sauce (see No. 71 note).
No. 76. Stufato alla Milanese (Stewed Beef)
Ingredients: Rump steak, bacon, ham, salt, pepper, cinnamon, cloves, butter, onions, Burgundy.
Ingredients: Rump steak, bacon, ham, salt, pepper, cinnamon, cloves, butter, onions, Burgundy.
Beat a piece of rump steak to make it tender and lard it well, cut up some bits of fat bacon and dust them over with salt, pepper, and a tiny pinch of cinnamon, and put them on the steak. Stick three cloves into the steak, then put it into a stewpan, add a little of the fat of the beef chopped up, an ounce of butter, an onion cut up, and some bits of lean ham. Put in sufficient stock to cover the steak, add a glass of Burgundy, and stew gently until it is cooked.
Pound a piece of rump steak to tenderize it and then lard it generously. Chop some bits of fatty bacon and sprinkle them with salt, pepper, and a tiny pinch of cinnamon, then place them on the steak. Insert three cloves into the steak, then put it in a stewpot, add some chopped beef fat, an ounce of butter, a chopped onion, and some pieces of lean ham. Pour in enough stock to cover the steak, add a glass of Burgundy, and simmer gently until it's cooked.
No. 77. Manzo Marinato Arrosto (Marinated Beef)
Ingredients: Beef, salt, larding bacon, Burgundy, vinegar, spices, herbs, flour.
Ingredients: Beef, salt, bacon, Burgundy wine, vinegar, spices, herbs, flour.
Beat a piece of rump steak, or fillet to make it tender; sprinkle it well with salt and some chopped herbs, and leave it for an hour; then lard it and marinate it as follows: Half a pint of red wine (Australian Harvest Burgundy is best), half a glass of vinegar, a pinch of spice, and a bouquet of herbs; leave it in this for twenty-four hours then take it out, drain it well sprinkle it with flour, and roast it for twenty minutes before a clear fire, braize it till quite tender, then press and glaze it. The thin end of a sirloin is excellent cooked this way. Serve cold.
Pound a piece of rump steak or fillet to make it tender; season it generously with salt and some chopped herbs, and let it sit for an hour. Then lard it and marinate it as follows: Half a pint of red wine (Australian Harvest Burgundy is best), half a glass of vinegar, a pinch of spice, and a bunch of herbs; leave it in this mixture for twenty-four hours. After that, take it out, drain it well, sprinkle it with flour, and roast it for twenty minutes over a hot fire, then braise it until it's completely tender, then press and glaze it. The thin end of a sirloin is excellent cooked this way. Serve it cold.
No. 78. Manzo con sugo di Barbabietole (Fillet of Beef)
Ingredients: Beef, beetroot, salt.
Cut up three raw beetroots put them into an earthen ware pot and cover them with water. Keep them in some warm place, and allow them to ferment for five, six, or eight days according to the season; the froth at the top of the water will indicate the necessary fermentation. The take out the pieces of beetroot, skim off all the froth, and into the fermented liquor put a good piece of tender rump steak or fillet with some salt. Braize for four hours and serve.
Cut up three raw beetroots, place them in a clay pot, and cover them with water. Keep the pot in a warm spot and let it ferment for five, six, or eight days, depending on the season; the froth at the top of the water will show you when fermentation is complete. Then remove the pieces of beetroot, skim off all the froth, and add a good piece of tender rump steak or fillet along with some salt to the fermented liquid. Braise for four hours and serve.
No. 79. Manzo in Insalata (Marinated Beef)
Ingredients: Beef, oil, salt, pepper, vinegar, parsley, capers, mushrooms, olives, vegetables.
Ingredients: Beef, oil, salt, pepper, vinegar, parsley, capers, mushrooms, olives, vegetables.
Cook a fillet of beef (or the thin end of a sirloin), which has been previously marinated for two days in oil, salt, pepper, vinegar, and chopped parsley. When cold press and glaze it, garnish it with capers, mushrooms preserved in vinegar or gherkins, olives, and any kind of vegetables marinated like the beef. Serve cold.
Cook a beef fillet (or the thin end of a sirloin) that has been marinated for two days in oil, salt, pepper, vinegar, and chopped parsley. Once it's cold, press and glaze it, then garnish it with capers, mushrooms preserved in vinegar or gherkins, olives, and any other vegetables marinated like the beef. Serve it cold.
No. 80. Filetto di Bue con Pistacchi (Fillets of Beef with Pistacchios)
Ingredients: Fillet of beef, oil, salt, flour, pistacchio nuts, gravy.
Cut a piece of tender beef into little fillets, and put a them in a stewpan with a tablespoonful of olive oil and salt. After they have cooked for a few minutes, powder them with flour, and strew over each fillet some chopped pistacchio nuts. Add a few spoonsful of very good boiling gravy, and cook for another half-hour.
Cut a piece of tender beef into small fillets and place them in a saucepan with a tablespoon of olive oil and salt. After they've cooked for a few minutes, sprinkle them with flour and top each fillet with some chopped pistachio nuts. Pour in a few spoonfuls of high-quality boiling gravy and cook for another half hour.
No. 81. Scalopini di Riso (Beef with Risotto)
Ingredients: Rump steak, butter, rice, truffles, tongue, stock, mushrooms.
Ingredients: Rump steak, butter, rice, truffles, tongue, broth, mushrooms.
Slightly stew a bit of rump steak with bits of tongue and mushrooms; let it get cold, and cut it into scallops. Butter a pie dish, and garnish the bottom of it with cooked tongue and slices of cooked truffle, then over this put a layer of well-cooked and seasoned risotto (No. 190), then a layer of the scallops of beef, and then another layer of risotto. Heat in a bain-marie, and turn out of the pie dish, and serve with a very good sauce poured round it.
Slightly simmer some rump steak with pieces of tongue and mushrooms; let it cool, and slice it into scallops. Grease a pie dish, and line the bottom with cooked tongue and slices of cooked truffle, then add a layer of well-cooked and seasoned risotto (No. 190), followed by a layer of the beef scallops, and then another layer of risotto. Heat it in a water bath, then turn it out onto a plate, serving it with a rich sauce poured around it.
No. 82. Tenerumi alla Piemontese (Tendons of Veal)
Ingredients: Tendons of veal, fowl forcemeat, truffles, risotto (No. 190), a cock's comb, tongue.
Ingredients: Veal tendons, poultry sausage, truffles, risotto (No. 190), a rooster's comb, tongue.
Tendons of veal are that part of the breast which lies near the ribs, and forms an opaque gristly substance. Partly braize a fine bit of this joint, and press it between two plates till cold. Cut it up into fillets, and on each spread a thin layer of fowl forcemeat, and decorate with slices of truffle. Put the fillets into a stewpan, cover them with very good stock, and boil till the forcemeat and truffles are quite cooked. Prepare a risotto all'Italiana (No. 190), put it on a dish and decorate it with bits of red tongue cut into shapes, and in the centre put a whole cooked truffle and a white cock's comb, both on a silver skewer. Place the tendons of veal round the dish. Add a good Espagnole sauce (No. 1) and serve.
Tendons of veal are the part of the breast that’s close to the ribs, creating a dense, gristly texture. Braise a nice piece of this joint until it’s partly cooked, then press it between two plates until it cools. Slice it into fillets, spread a thin layer of chicken forcemeat on each, and garnish with slices of truffle. Place the fillets in a saucepan, cover them with high-quality stock, and boil until the forcemeat and truffles are fully cooked. Prepare a risotto all'Italiana (No. 190), place it on a serving dish, and decorate it with pieces of red tongue cut into shapes. In the center, add a whole cooked truffle and a white cock's comb, both on a silver skewer. Arrange the tendons of veal around the dish. Pour on a good Espagnole sauce (No. 1) and serve.
If you like, leave out the risotto and serve the veal with Espagnole sauce mixed with cooked peas and chopped truffle.
If you want, skip the risotto and serve the veal with Espagnole sauce mixed with cooked peas and chopped truffle.
No. 83. Bragiuole di Vitello (Veal Cutlets)
Ingredients: Veal, salt, pepper, butter, bacon, carrots, flour, Chablis, water, lemon.
Ingredients: Veal, salt, pepper, butter, bacon, carrots, flour, Chablis, water, lemon.
Cut a bit of veal steak into pieces the size of small cutlets, salt and pepper them, and put them in a wide low stewpan. Add two ounces of butter, a cut-up carrot, and some bits of bacon also cut up. When they are browned, add a spoonful of flour, half a glass of Chablis, and half a glass of water, and cook on a slow fire for half an hour, then take out the cutlets, reduce the sauce, and pass it through a sieve. Put it back on the fire and add an ounce of butter and a good squeeze of lemon, and when hot pour it over the cutlets.
Cut a piece of veal steak into small cutlet-sized pieces, season them with salt and pepper, and place them in a wide, low stewpan. Add two ounces of butter, a chopped carrot, and some chopped bacon. Once they are browned, add a spoonful of flour, half a glass of Chablis, and half a glass of water, and cook on low heat for half an hour. Then, remove the cutlets, reduce the sauce, and strain it through a sieve. Put it back on the heat and add an ounce of butter and a good squeeze of lemon, and when it’s hot, pour it over the cutlets.
No. 84. Costolette alla Manza (Veal Cutlets)
Ingredients: Veal cutlets (fowl or turkey cutlets), forcemeat, truffles, mushrooms, tongue, parsley, pasta marinate (No. 17).
Ingredients: Veal cutlets (or chicken or turkey cutlets), ground meat, truffles, mushrooms, tongue, parsley, pasta marinade (No. 17).
Cut a few horizontal lines along your cutlets, and on each put a little veal or fowl forcemeat, to which add in equal quantities chopped truffles, tongue, mushrooms, and a little parsley. Over this put a thin layer of pasta marinate, and fry the cutlets on a slow fire.
Cut a few horizontal lines in your cutlets, and on each one, place a bit of veal or poultry stuffing. Mix in equal amounts of chopped truffles, tongue, mushrooms, and a bit of parsley. Spread a thin layer of marinated pasta over this, and fry the cutlets on low heat.
No. 85. Vitello alla Pellegrina (Breast of Veal)
Ingredients: Breast of veal, butter, onions, sugar, stock, red wine, mushrooms, bacon, salt, flour, bay leaf.
Ingredients: Veal breast, butter, onions, sugar, broth, red wine, mushrooms, bacon, salt, flour, bay leaf.
Roast a bit of breast of veal, then glaze over two Spanish onions with butter and a little sugar, and when they are a good colour pour a teacup of stock and a glass of Burgundy over them, and add a few mushrooms, a bay leaf, some salt, and a few bits of bacon. When the mushrooms and onions are cooked, skim off the fat and thicken the sauce with a little flour and butter fried together; pour it over the veal and put the onions and mushrooms round the dish.
Roast a piece of veal breast, then sauté two Spanish onions in butter with a little sugar until they are nicely browned. Once they’re a good color, add a teacup of stock and a glass of Burgundy. Toss in a few mushrooms, a bay leaf, some salt, and a few pieces of bacon. Once the mushrooms and onions are cooked, skim off the fat and thicken the sauce with a bit of flour and butter cooked together. Pour it over the veal and arrange the onions and mushrooms around the dish.
No. 86. Frittura Piccata al Marsala (Fillet of Veal)
Ingredients: Veal, butter, Marsala, stock, lemon, bacon.
Cut a tender bit of veal steak into small fillets, cut off all the fat and stringy parts, flour them and fry them in butter. When they are slightly browned add a glass of Marsala and a teacup of good stock, and fry on a very hot fire, so that the fillets may remain tender. Take them off the fire, put a little roll of fried bacon on each, add a squeeze of lemon juice, and serve.
Cut a tender piece of veal steak into small fillets, remove all the fat and tough bits, coat them in flour, and fry them in butter. Once they’re lightly browned, add a glass of Marsala and a teacup of good broth, and cook on a very high heat to keep the fillets tender. Remove them from the heat, place a small piece of fried bacon on each one, add a squeeze of lemon juice, and serve.
No. 87. Polpettine Distese (Veal Olives)
Ingredients: Veal steak, butter, bread, eggs, pistacchio nuts, spice, parsley.
Ingredients: Veal steak, butter, bread, eggs, pistachio nuts, spices, parsley.
Cut some slices of veal steak very thin as for veal olives, and spread them out in a well-buttered stewpan. On each slice of veal put half a spoonful of the following mixture: Pound some crumb of bread and mix it with a whole egg; add a little salt, some pistacchio nuts, herbs, and parsley chopped up, and a little butter. Roll up each slice of veal, cover with a sheet of buttered paper, put the cover on the stewpan and cook for three-quarters of an hour in two ounces of butter on a slow fire. Thicken the sauce with a dessert-spoonful of flour and butter fried together.
Cut some very thin slices of veal steak, like you would for veal olives, and lay them out in a well-buttered saucepan. On each slice of veal, place half a spoonful of the following mixture: Crush some breadcrumbs and combine them with a whole egg; add a pinch of salt, some pistachio nuts, chopped herbs, and chopped parsley, along with a little butter. Roll each slice of veal up, cover with a piece of buttered paper, put the lid on the saucepan, and cook for 45 minutes in two ounces of butter over low heat. Thicken the sauce by mixing a dessert spoonful of flour with butter that has been cooked together.
No. 88. Coste di Vitello Imboracciate (Ribs of Veal)
Ingredients: Ribs of veal, butter, eggs, Parmesan, bread crumbs, parsley.
Ingredients: Veal ribs, butter, eggs, Parmesan cheese, bread crumbs, parsley.
Cut all the sinews from a piece of neck or ribs of veal, cover the meat with plenty of butter and half cook it on a slow fire, then let it get cold. When cold, egg it over and roll it in bread crumbs mixed with a tablespoonful of grated Parmesan; fry in butter and serve with a garnish of fried parsley and a rich sauce. A dessert-spoonful of New Century sauce mixed with quarter of a pint of good thick stock makes a good sauce. (See No. 226.)
Remove all the sinews from a piece of neck or ribs of veal, coat the meat with plenty of butter, and partially cook it over low heat. After it cools, coat it in egg and roll it in bread crumbs blended with a tablespoon of grated Parmesan. Fry it in butter and serve it garnished with fried parsley and a rich sauce. A dessert spoonful of New Century sauce mixed with a quarter pint of good thick stock creates a tasty sauce. (See No. 226.)
No. 89. Costolette di Montone alla Nizzarda (Mutton Cutlets)
Ingredients: Mutton cutlets, butter, olives, mushrooms, cucumbers.
Trim as many cutlets as you require, and marinate them in vinegar, herbs, and spice for two hours. Before cooking wipe them well and then saute them in clarified butter, and when they are well coloured on both sides and resist the pressure of the finger, drain off the butter and pour four tablespoonsful of Espagnole sauce (No. 1) with a teaspoonful of vinegar and six bruised pepper corns over them. Arrange them on a dish, putting between each cutlet a crouton of fried bread, and garnish with olives stuffed with chopped mushrooms and with slices of fried cucumber.
Trim as many cutlets as you need and marinate them in vinegar, herbs, and spices for two hours. Before cooking, wipe them down well and then sauté them in clarified butter. Once they’re nice and browned on both sides and feel firm to the touch, drain off the butter and pour four tablespoons of Espagnole sauce (No. 1) mixed with a teaspoon of vinegar and six crushed peppercorns over them. Arrange the cutlets on a plate, placing a piece of fried bread between each one, and garnish with olives stuffed with chopped mushrooms and slices of fried cucumber.
No. 90. Petto di Castrato all'Italiana (Breast of Mutton)
Ingredients: Breast of mutton, veal, forcemeat, eggs, herbs, spice, Parmesan.
Ingredients: Mutton breast, veal, stuffing, eggs, herbs, spices, Parmesan.
Stuff a breast of mutton with veal forcemeat mixed with two eggs beaten up, herbs, a little spice, and a tablespoonful of grated Parmesan, braize it in stock with a bunch of herbs and two onions. Serve with Italian sauce (No. 6).
Stuff a mutton breast with veal mixture combined with two beaten eggs, herbs, a bit of spice, and a tablespoon of grated Parmesan. Braise it in broth with a bunch of herbs and two onions. Serve with Italian sauce (No. 6).
No. 91. Petto di Castrato alla Salsa piccante (Breast of Mutton)
Ingredients: Same as No. 90.
When the breast of mutton has been stuffed and cooked as above, let it get cold and then cut it into fillets, flour them over, fry in butter, and serve with tomato sauce piquante (No. 10), or one dessert-spoonful of New Century sauce in a quarter pint of good stock or gravy.
When the mutton breast has been stuffed and cooked as described, let it cool and then slice it into fillets. Coat them in flour, fry in butter, and serve with a spicy tomato sauce (No. 10), or mix one dessert spoon of New Century sauce into a quarter pint of good stock or gravy.
No. 92. Tenerumi d'Agnello alla Villeroy (Tendons of Lamb)
Ingredients: Tendons of lamb, eggs, bread crumbs, truffles, butter, stock, Villeroy sauce.
Ingredients: Lamb tendons, eggs, breadcrumbs, truffles, butter, stock, Villeroy sauce.
Slightly cook the tendons (the part of the breast near the ribs) of lamb, press them between two dishes till cold, then cut into a good shape and dip them into a Villeroy sauce (No. 18) egg and bread-crumb, and saute them in butter. When about to serve, put them in a dish with very good clear gravy. A teaspoonful of chopped mint and a tablespoonful of chopped truffles mixed with the bread crumbs will be a great improvement.
Slightly cook the tendons (the part of the breast near the ribs) of lamb, press them between two dishes until cold, then cut into a good shape and dip them into a Villeroy sauce (No. 18) with egg and breadcrumbs, and sauté them in butter. Just before serving, place them in a dish with some very good clear gravy. A teaspoon of chopped mint and a tablespoon of chopped truffles mixed with the breadcrumbs will be a great improvement.
No. 93. Tenerumi d' Agnello alla Veneziana (Tendons of Lamb)
Ingredients: Tendons of lamb, butter, parsley, onions, stock.
Fry the tendons of lamb in butter together with a teaspoonful of chopped parsley and an onion. Serve with good gravy.
Fry the lamb tendons in butter along with a teaspoon of chopped parsley and an onion. Serve with delicious gravy.
No. 94. Costolette d' Agnello alla Costanza (Lamb Cutlets)
Ingredients: Lamb cutlets, butter, stock, cocks' combs, fowl's liver, mushrooms.
Ingredients: Lamb chops, butter, broth, cocks' combs, chicken liver, mushrooms.
Fry as many lamb cutlets as you require very sharply in butter, drain off the butter and replace it with some very good stock or gravy. Make a ragout of cocks' combs, bits of fowl's liver and mushrooms all cut up; add a white sauce with half a gill of cream mixed with it, and with this mask the cutlets, and saute them for fifteen minutes.
Fry as many lamb cutlets as you need quickly in butter, then drain the butter and replace it with some really good stock or gravy. Make a ragout of chicken combs, pieces of chicken liver, and mushrooms all chopped up; add a white sauce with half a gill of cream mixed in, and use this to cover the cutlets, then sauté them for fifteen minutes.
Tongue, Sweetbread, Calf's Head, Liver, Sucking Pig, &C.
No. 95. Timballo alla Romana
Ingredients: Cold fowl, game, or sweetbread, butter, lard, flour, Parmesan, truffles, macaroni, onions, cream.
Ingredients: Cold chicken, game meat, or sweetbreads, butter, lard, flour, Parmesan cheese, truffles, macaroni, onions, cream.
Make a light paste of two ounces of butter, two of lard, and half a pound of flour, and put it in the larder for two hours. In the meantime boil a little macaroni and let it get cold, then line a plain mould with the paste, and fill it with bits of cut-up fowl, or game, or sweetbread, bits of truffle cut in small dice, grated Parmesan, and a little chopped onion. Put these ingredients in alternately, and after each layer add enough cream to moisten. Fill the mould quite full, then roll out a thin paste for the top and press it well together at the edges to keep the cream from boiling out. Bake it in a moderate oven for an hour and a half, turn it out of the mould, and serve with a rich brown sauce. Decorate the top with bits of red tongue and truffles cut into shapes or with a little chopped pistacchio nut.
Make a smooth paste with two ounces of butter, two ounces of lard, and half a pound of flour, and let it chill in the fridge for two hours. In the meantime, boil a bit of macaroni and let it cool. Then, line a regular mold with the paste and fill it with pieces of chopped chicken, game, or sweetbread, small diced truffles, grated Parmesan, and a bit of chopped onion. Layer these ingredients alternately, adding enough cream to moisten each layer. Fill the mold all the way, then roll out a thin layer of paste for the top and press the edges tightly to keep the cream from bubbling out. Bake in a moderate oven for one and a half hours, turn it out of the mold, and serve with a rich brown sauce. Decorate the top with bits of red tongue and truffles cut into shapes, or with a little chopped pistachio nut.
No. 96. Timballo alla Lombarda
Ingredients: Macaroni, fowl or game, eggs, stock, Velute sauce (No. 2), tongue, butter, truffles.
Ingredients: Macaroni, chicken or game meat, eggs, broth, Veloute sauce (No. 2), tongue, butter, truffles.
Butter a smooth mould, then boil some macaroni, but take care that it is in long pieces. When cold, take the longest bits and line the bottom of the mould, making the macaroni go in circles; and when you come to the end of one piece, join on the next as closely as possible until the whole mould is lined; paint it over now and then with white of egg beaten up; then mask the whole inside with a thin layer of forcemeat of fowl, which should also be put on with white of egg to make it adhere; then cut up the bits of macaroni which remain, warm them up in some good fowl stock and Velute sauce much reduced, a little melted butter, some bits of truffle cut into dice, tongue, fowl, or game also cut up in pieces. When the mould is full, put on another layer of forcemeat, steam for an hour, then turn out and serve with a very good brown sauce.
Butter a smooth mold, then boil some macaroni, making sure it's in long pieces. Once it's cool, take the longest pieces and line the bottom of the mold in circles; when you reach the end of one piece, join on the next as closely as possible until the entire mold is lined. Occasionally brush it with beaten egg white. Next, cover the entire inside with a thin layer of ground chicken, which should also be applied with egg white to help it stick. Then chop up the remaining macaroni, warm it in some good chicken stock and a reduced Velouté sauce, add a little melted butter, and some diced truffles, tongue, chicken, or game also cut into pieces. Once the mold is full, add another layer of ground chicken, steam it for an hour, then turn it out and serve with a good brown sauce.
No. 97. Lingua alla Visconti (Tongue)
Ingredients: Tongue, glaze, bread, spinach, white grapes, port.
Soak a smoked tongue in fresh water for forty-eight hours, then boil it till it is tender. Peel off the skin, cut the tongue in rather thick slices, and glaze them. Prepare an oval border of fried bread, cover it with spinach about two inches thick, and on this arrange the slices of tongue. Fill in the centre of the dish with white grapes cooked in port or muscat.
Soak a smoked tongue in fresh water for forty-eight hours, then boil it until it’s tender. Peel off the skin, cut the tongue into fairly thick slices, and glaze them. Prepare an oval border of fried bread, cover it with about two inches of spinach, and arrange the slices of tongue on top. Fill the center of the dish with white grapes cooked in port or muscat.
No. 98. Lingua di Manzo al Citriuoli (Tongue with Cucumber)
Ingredients: Ox tongue, salt, pepper, nutmeg, parsley, bacon, veal, carrots, onions, thyme, bay leaves, cloves, stock.
Ingredients: Ox tongue, salt, pepper, nutmeg, parsley, bacon, veal, carrots, onions, thyme, bay leaves, cloves, stock.
Gently boil an ox tongue until you can peel off the skin, then lard it, season it with salt, pepper, nutmeg, and chopped parsley, and boil it with some bits of bacon, ham, veal, a carrot, an onion, two bay leaves, thyme and two cloves. Pour some good stock over it and let it simmer gently until it is cooked. Put the tongue on a dish and garnish it with slices of fried cucumber. Boil the cucumber for five minutes before you fry it, to take away the bitter taste. Serve the tongue with a sauce piquante, made with one dessert-spoonful of New Century sauce to a quarter pint of good Espangole sauce (No. 1).
Gently boil an ox tongue until you can peel the skin off, then lard it, season it with salt, pepper, nutmeg, and chopped parsley, and boil it with some pieces of bacon, ham, veal, a carrot, an onion, two bay leaves, thyme, and two cloves. Pour some good stock over it and let it simmer gently until it’s cooked. Place the tongue on a dish and garnish it with slices of fried cucumber. Boil the cucumber for five minutes before frying it to remove the bitter taste. Serve the tongue with a spicy sauce made by mixing one dessert spoonful of New Century sauce with a quarter pint of good Espangole sauce (No. 1).
No. 99. Lingue di Castrato alla Cuciniera (Sheep's Tongues)
Ingredients: Sheep's tongues, bacon, beef, onions, herbs, spice, eggs, butter, flour.
Ingredients: Sheep tongues, bacon, beef, onions, herbs, spices, eggs, butter, flour.
Cook three or four sheep's tongues in good stock, and add some slices of bacon, bits of beef, two onions, a bunch of herbs, and a pinch of spice. Let them get cold, flour them and mask them with egg beaten up and fry quickly in butter. Serve with Italian sauce (No. 6)
Cook three or four sheep's tongues in good broth, then add some slices of bacon, pieces of beef, two onions, a bunch of herbs, and a pinch of spices. Allow them to cool, coat them in flour, dip them in beaten egg, and fry quickly in butter. Serve with Italian sauce (No. 6).
No. 100. Lingue di Vitello all'Italiana (Calves' Tongues)
Ingredients: Calves' tongues, salt, butter, stock, water, glaze, potatoes, ham, truffles, sauce piquante.
Ingredients: Calves' tongues, salt, butter, broth, water, glaze, potatoes, ham, truffles, spicy sauce.
Rub a good handful of salt into two or three calves' tongues and leave them for twenty-four hours, then wash off all the salt and soak them in fresh water for two hours. Stew them gently till tender, take them out, skin and braize them in butter and good stock for half an hour. Let them get cold and cut them into slices about half an inch thick; put the slices into a buttered saute-pan and cover them with a good thick glaze; let them get quite hot and then arrange them on a border of potatoes, and garnish each slice with round shapes of cooked ham and truffle. Fill the centre with any vegetables you like; fried cucumber is excellent, but if you use it do not forget to boil it for five minutes before you fry it to take away the bitter taste. Serve with a sauce piquante (No. 10, or No. 226).
Rub a good handful of salt into two or three calves' tongues and leave them for twenty-four hours, then wash off all the salt and soak them in fresh water for two hours. Stew them gently until tender, take them out, skin them, and braise them in butter and good stock for half an hour. Let them cool and cut them into slices about half an inch thick; put the slices into a buttered sauté pan and cover them with a nice thick glaze; let them heat up completely, then arrange them on a border of potatoes, and garnish each slice with round pieces of cooked ham and truffle. Fill the center with any vegetables you like; fried cucumber is excellent, but if you use it, don't forget to boil it for five minutes before frying to remove the bitter taste. Serve with a sauce piquante (No. 10, or No. 226).
No. 101. Porcelletto alla Corradino (Sucking Pig)
Ingredients: Sucking pig, ham, eggs, Parmesan, truffles, mushrooms, garlic, bay leaves, coriander seeds, pistacchio nuts, veal forcemeat, suet, bacon, herbs, spice.
Ingredients: Suckling pig, ham, eggs, Parmesan cheese, truffles, mushrooms, garlic, bay leaves, coriander seeds, pistachio nuts, veal forcemeat, suet, bacon, herbs, spices.
Bone a sucking pig, remove all the inside and fill it with a stuffing made of veal forcemeat mixed with a little chopped suet, ham, bacon, herbs, two tablespoonsful of finely chopped pistacchio nuts, a pinch of spice, six coriander seeds, two tablespoonsful of grated Parmesan, cuttings of truffles and mushrooms all bound together with eggs. Sew the pig up and braize it in a big stewpan with bits of bacon, a clove of garlic with two cuts, a bunch of herbs and one bay leaf, for half an hour. Then pour off the gravy, cover the pig with well-buttered paper, and finish cooking it in the oven. Garnish the top with vegetables and truffles cut into shapes, slices of lemon and sprigs of parsley. Serve with a good sauce piquante (No. 229). Do not leave the garlic in for more than ten minutes.
Bone a sucking pig, remove all the insides, and fill it with stuffing made from veal forcemeat mixed with a little chopped suet, ham, bacon, herbs, two tablespoons of finely chopped pistachio nuts, a pinch of spice, six coriander seeds, two tablespoons of grated Parmesan, pieces of truffles and mushrooms, all bound together with eggs. Sew the pig up and braise it in a large pot with bits of bacon, a clove of garlic with two cuts, a bunch of herbs, and one bay leaf for half an hour. Then pour off the gravy, cover the pig with well-buttered paper, and finish cooking it in the oven. Garnish the top with vegetables and truffles cut into shapes, slices of lemon, and sprigs of parsley. Serve with a good sauce piquante (No. 229). Do not leave the garlic in for more than ten minutes.
No. 102. Porcelletto da Latte in Galantina (Sucking Pig)
Ingredients: Sucking pig, forcemeat of fowl, bacon, truffles, pistacchio nuts, ham, lemon, veal, bay leaves, salt, carrots, onions, shallots, parsley, stock, Chablis, gravy.
Ingredients: Sucking pig, poultry stuffing, bacon, truffles, pistachio nuts, ham, lemon, veal, bay leaves, salt, carrots, onions, shallots, parsley, stock, Chablis, gravy.
Bone a sucking pig all except its feet, but be careful not to cut the skin on its back. Lay it out on a napkin and line it inside with a forcemeat of fowl and veal about an inch thick, over this put a layer of bits of marinated bacon, slices of truffle, pistacchio nuts, cooked ham, and some of the flesh of the pig, then another layer of forcemeat until the pig's skin is fairly filled. Keep its shape by sewing it lightly together, then rub it all over with lemon juice and cover it with slices of fat bacon, roll it up and stitch it in a pudding cloth. Then put the bones and cuttings into a stewpan with bits of bacon and veal steak cut up, two bay leaves, salt, a carrot, an onion, a shallot, and a bunch of parsley. Into this put the pig with a bottle of white wine and sufficient stock to cover it, and cook on a slow fire for three hours. Then take it out, and when cold take off the pudding-cloth. Pass the liquor through a hair sieve, and, if necessary, add some stock; reduce and clarify it. Decorate the dish with this jelly and serve cold.
Prepare a sucking pig by removing the bones, except for its feet, but be careful not to cut the skin on its back. Place it on a napkin and fill the inside with a mixture of ground poultry and veal about an inch thick. On top of that, add a layer of marinated bacon pieces, slices of truffle, pistachio nuts, cooked ham, and some of the pig’s flesh. Follow this with another layer of the meat mixture until the skin is reasonably filled. Keep its shape by lightly stitching it together, then rub the exterior with lemon juice and cover it with slices of fatty bacon. Roll it up and wrap it in a pudding cloth. Next, place the bones and scraps into a saucepan with bits of bacon and veal steak, two bay leaves, salt, a carrot, an onion, a shallot, and a bunch of parsley. Add the pig and a bottle of white wine, along with enough stock to cover it, and cook on low heat for three hours. Afterward, remove it and let it cool, then take off the pudding cloth. Strain the liquid through a fine sieve, and if necessary, add more stock; reduce and clarify it. Decorate the dish with this jelly and serve it cold.
No. 103. Ateletti alla Sarda
Ingredients: Veal or fowl, ox palates, stock, tongue, truffles, butter, mushrooms, sweetbread.
Ingredients: Veal or chicken, oxtails, broth, tongue, truffles, butter, mushrooms, sweetbreads.
Soak two ox palates in salted water for four hours, then boil them until the rough skin comes off, and cook them in good stock for six hours, press them between two plates and let them get cold. Roll some forcemeat of veal or fowl in flour, cut it into small pieces about the size of a cork, boil them in salted water, let them get cold and cut them into circular pieces. Cut the ox palates also into circular pieces the same size as the bits of forcemeat, then thinner circles of cooked tongue and truffles. String these pieces alternately on small silver skewers. Reduce to half its quantity a pint of Velute sauce (No. 2), and add the cuttings of the truffles, mushroom trimmings, bits of sweetbread, and a squeeze of lemon juice. Let it get cold and then mask the atelets (or skewers with the forcemeat, &c.) with it, and fry them quickly in butter. Fry a large oval crouton of bread, scoop out the centre and fill it with fried slices of cucumber and truffles boiled in a little Chablis. Stick the skewers into the crouton and pour the sauce round it.
Soak two ox palates in salted water for four hours, then boil them until the tough skin comes off, and cook them in good stock for six hours. Press them between two plates and let them cool. Roll some veal or poultry forcemeat in flour, cut it into small pieces about the size of a cork, boil them in salted water, let them cool, and cut them into circular pieces. Cut the ox palates into circular pieces the same size as the forcemeat, then thinner circles of cooked tongue and truffles. Thread these pieces alternately onto small silver skewers. Reduce a pint of Veloute sauce (No. 2) by half and add the truffle scraps, mushroom trimmings, bits of sweetbread, and a squeeze of lemon juice. Let it cool, then coat the skewers (or atelets) with it, and fry them quickly in butter. Fry a large oval crouton of bread, scoop out the center, and fill it with fried slices of cucumber and truffles cooked in a little Chablis. Insert the skewers into the crouton and pour the sauce around it.
For a maigre dish use fillets of fish, truffles, mushrooms, and Bechamel sauce (No. 3). The cucumber should be boiled for five minutes before it is fried.
For a light dish, use fish fillets, truffles, mushrooms, and Bechamel sauce (No. 3). The cucumber should be boiled for five minutes before frying it.
No. 104. Ateletti alla Genovese
Ingredients: Veal, sweetbread, calf's brains, ox palates, mushrooms, fonds d'artichauds, cocks' combs, eggs, Parmesan, bread crumbs.
Ingredients: Veal, sweetbreads, calf's brains, ox tongues, mushrooms, artichoke hearts, rooster combs, eggs, Parmesan cheese, bread crumbs.
Cook two ox palates as in the last recipe, then take equal quantities of veal steak, sweetbread, calf's brains, equal quantities of mushrooms, fonds d'artichauds, and cocks' combs. Fry them all in butter except the palates, but be careful to put the veal in first, as it requires longer cooking; the brains should go in last. Then put all these ingredients on a cutting board and add the palates (cooked separately); cut them all into pieces of equal size, either round or square, but keep the ingredients separate, and string them alternately on silver skewers, as in the last recipe. Then pound up all the cuttings and add a little crumb of bread soaked in stock, the yolks of three eggs, the whites of two well beaten up, two dessert-spoonsful of grated Parmesan, salt to taste, and chopped truffles. Mix all this well together and mask the atelets with it; egg and bread crumb them and fry in butter. When they are a good colour, serve with fried parsley.
Cook two ox palates like in the previous recipe, then take equal amounts of veal steak, sweetbread, calf's brains, mushrooms, artichoke hearts, and cocks' combs. Fry everything in butter except the palates, but make sure to add the veal first since it takes longer to cook; the brains should be added last. Then place all these ingredients on a cutting board and include the palates (cooked separately); cut everything into pieces of equal size, either round or square, but keep the ingredients separate, and thread them alternately on silver skewers, as in the previous recipe. Next, chop up all the trimmings and add a little bread crumb soaked in stock, the yolks of three eggs, the whites of two well beaten, two dessert spoons of grated Parmesan, salt to taste, and chopped truffles. Mix everything together well and coat the atelets with it; then dip them in egg and breadcrumb and fry in butter. Once they have a nice color, serve with fried parsley.
No. 105. Testa di Vitello alla Sorrentina (Calf's Head)
Ingredients: Calf's head, veal, sweetbread, truffles, mushrooms, pistacchio nuts, eggs, herbs, spice, stock, bacon, ham.
Ingredients: Calf's head, veal, sweetbreads, truffles, mushrooms, pistachio nuts, eggs, herbs, spices, broth, bacon, ham.
Boil a half calf's head well, and when it is half cold, bone it and fill it with a stuffing of veal, the calf's brains, sweetbread, truffles, mushrooms, pistacchio nuts, the yolks of two eggs, herbs, and a little spice. Then stitch it up and braize it in good stock, with some slices of bacon, ham, and a bunch of herbs. Serve with brain sauce mixed with cream.
Boil a half calf's head thoroughly, and when it’s slightly cooled, remove the bones and fill it with a stuffing made of veal, the calf's brains, sweetbread, truffles, mushrooms, pistachio nuts, the yolks of two eggs, herbs, and a bit of spice. Then sew it up and braise it in good broth, along with some slices of bacon, ham, and a bunch of herbs. Serve it with brain sauce mixed with cream.
No. 106. Testa di Vitello con Salsa Napoletana (Calf's Head)
Ingredients: Calf's head, calf's liver, bacon, suet, truffles, almonds, olives, calf's brains, capers, spice, coriander seeds, herbs, ham, stock.
Ingredients: Calf's head, calf's liver, bacon, suet, truffles, almonds, olives, calf's brains, capers, spices, coriander seeds, herbs, ham, stock.
Boil half a calf's head, bone it and fill it with a stuffing made of four ounces of calf's liver, well chopped up and pounded in a mortar; two ounces of bacon, one ounce of suet, three truffles, six almonds, three olives, six coriander seeds, six capers, the calf's brains, a pinch of spice and a teaspoonful of chopped herbs. Roll up the head, tie it up and put it into a stewpan with some bits of bacon, ham, and very good stock, and stew it slowly. Serve with Neapolitan sauce (No.12), or with tomato sauce piquante (No. 10).
Boil half a calf's head, remove the bones, and fill it with a stuffing made of four ounces of finely chopped and pounded calf's liver; two ounces of bacon; one ounce of suet; three truffles; six almonds; three olives; six coriander seeds; six capers; the calf's brains; a pinch of spice; and a teaspoonful of chopped herbs. Roll up the head, tie it closed, and place it into a pot with some pieces of bacon, ham, and quality stock, then simmer it slowly. Serve with Neapolitan sauce (No.12) or with spicy tomato sauce (No. 10).
No. 107. Testa di Vitello alla Pompadour (Calf's Head)
Ingredients: Calf's head, calf's brains, cream, eggs, truffles, cinnamon, stock, butter, Parmesan.
Ingredients: Calf's head, calf's brains, cream, eggs, truffles, cinnamon, stock, butter, Parmesan.
Boil and bone half a calf's head and fill it with a stuffing made of the calf's brains, a gill of cream, the yolks of two eggs, two truffles cut up, a little chopped ham, and a tiny pinch of cinnamon. Boil it in good stock, and when it is sufficiently cooked take it out and mask it all over with a mixture of butter, yolk of egg, and a tablespoonful of grated Parmesan, then brown it in the oven and serve hot.
Boil and debone half of a calf's head and fill it with a stuffing made from the calf's brains, a cup of cream, the yolks of two eggs, two chopped truffles, a bit of chopped ham, and a small pinch of cinnamon. Cook it in a good broth, and when it's fully cooked, take it out and coat it with a mix of butter, egg yolk, and a tablespoon of grated Parmesan, then bake it in the oven until it's browned and serve it hot.
No. 108. Testa di Vitello alla Sanseverino (Calf's Head)
Ingredients: Calf's head, sweetbread, fowl's liver, anchovies, herbs, capers, garlic, bacon, ham, Malmsey or Muscat.
Ingredients: Calf's head, sweetbreads, chicken liver, anchovies, herbs, capers, garlic, bacon, ham, Malmsey or Muscat.
Boil and bone half a calf's head, and fill it with a stuffing made of half a pound of sweetbread, a fowl's liver, two anchovies, a teaspoonful of chopped herbs, a few chopped capers, and the calf's brains. Roll the head up, stitch it together and braize it in half a tumbler of Malmsey or Australian Muscat (Burgoyne's), half a cup of very good white stock, some bits of ham and bacon, and a clove of garlic with two cuts. Cook it gently for four hours and serve it with its own sauce. Do not leave the garlic in longer than ten minutes.
Boil and clean half a calf's head, then stuff it with a mixture of half a pound of sweetbread, a chicken liver, two anchovies, a teaspoon of chopped herbs, a few chopped capers, and the calf's brains. Roll up the head, sew it closed, and braise it in half a tumbler of Malmsey or Australian Muscat (Burgoyne's), half a cup of good quality white stock, some pieces of ham and bacon, and a clove of garlic with two slits. Cook it slowly for four hours and serve it with its own sauce. Make sure not to leave the garlic in for more than ten minutes.
No. 109. Testa di Vitello in Frittata (Calf's Head)
Ingredients: Calf's head, eggs, Parmesan, ham, pepper, butter, croutons.
A good rechauffe' of calf's head may be made in the following manner: After the head has been well boiled in good stock, cut it into slices and mask these with a mixture of eggs well beaten up, grated Parmesan, pepper, and chopped ham. Fry in butter, and garnish with fried parsley and fried croutons. Serve with a sauce made of a quarter of a pint of good Bechamel (No. 3) and a dessert-spoonful of New Century sauce.
A tasty reheat of calf's head can be made like this: After boiling the head in good stock, slice it up and coat the slices with a mix of well-beaten eggs, grated Parmesan, pepper, and chopped ham. Fry them in butter, and top with fried parsley and crispy croutons. Serve it with a sauce made from a quarter pint of good Bechamel (No. 3) and a tablespoon of New Century sauce.
No. 110. Zampetti (Calves' Feet)
Ingredients: Calves' or pigs' feet, butter, leeks or small onions, parsley, salt, pepper, stock, tomatoes, eggs, cheese, cinnamon.
Ingredients: Calf or pig feet, butter, leeks or small onions, parsley, salt, pepper, broth, tomatoes, eggs, cheese, cinnamon.
Blanch and bone two or more calves' or pigs' feet and put them into a stewpan with butter, leeks, or onions, chopped parsley, salt, pepper, and a little stock. Let them boil till the liquid is somewhat reduced, then add good meat gravy and two tablespoonsful of tomato puree, and just before taking the stewpan off the fire, add the yolks of two eggs beaten up, a tablespoonful of grated cheese, and a tiny pinch of cinnamon. Mix all well together and serve very hot.
Blanch and bone two or more calves' or pigs' feet and place them in a stewpan with butter, leeks or onions, chopped parsley, salt, pepper, and a bit of stock. Allow it to boil until the liquid is somewhat reduced, then add good meat gravy and two tablespoons of tomato puree. Just before removing the stewpan from the heat, stir in the beaten yolks of two eggs, a tablespoon of grated cheese, and a small pinch of cinnamon. Mix everything together well and serve hot.
No. 111. Bodini Marinati
Ingredients: Veal forcemeat, truffles, sweetbread, mushrooms, herbs, flour, pasta marinate (No. 17), tongue, butter.
Ingredients: Veal ground meat, truffles, sweetbreads, mushrooms, herbs, flour, pasta marinade (No. 17), tongue, butter.
Make a mixture of truffles, tongue, sweetbread, mushrooms, and herbs, all chopped up, and add it to a forcemeat of veal, the proportions being two-thirds veal forcemeat and the other ingredients one third. Mix this well and form it into little balls about the size of a pigeon's egg, flour them and mask them all over with pasta marinate (No. 17). Fry them in butter over a slow fire, so that the balls may be well cooked through, and when they are the right colour dry them in a napkin and serve very hot.
Combine chopped truffles, tongue, sweetbread, mushrooms, and herbs, and mix them into a veal forcemeat, using two-thirds veal and one-third the other ingredients. Blend it thoroughly and shape it into small balls about the size of a pigeon’s egg. Dust them with flour and coat them with pasta marinate (No. 17). Fry them in butter on low heat to ensure they cook through. Once they achieve the right color, drain them on a napkin and serve hot.
These bodini may be made with various ingredients; they will be most delicate with a forcemeat of fowl and bits of brain mixed with herbs, truffle, cooked ham, or tongue. They are also excellent made with fish (sole, mullet, turbot, &c.), either cooked or raw, and marinated in lemon, salt, pepper, oil, nutmeg, and parsley.
These bodini can be made with different ingredients; they taste best with a mixture of poultry and small pieces of brain combined with herbs, truffle, cooked ham, or tongue. They are also great when made with fish (like sole, mullet, turbot, etc.), whether cooked or raw, and marinated in lemon, salt, pepper, oil, nutmeg, and parsley.
No. 112. Animelle alla Parmegiana (Sweetbread)
Ingredients: Sweetbread, bread crumbs, Parmesan, butter.
Blanch as many sweetbreads as you require, and then roll them in bread crumbs mixed with grated Parmesan, salt, and pepper; wrap them up in buttered grease-proof paper and grill them. When they are cooked, take off the paper, and serve with a good sauce in a sauce-boat.
Blanch as many sweetbreads as you need, then coat them in bread crumbs mixed with grated Parmesan, salt, and pepper. Wrap them in buttered parchment paper and grill them. Once they're cooked, remove the paper and serve with a nice sauce in a sauceboat.
No. 113. Animelle in Cartoccio (Sweetbread)
Ingredients: Sweetbread, butter, herbs, salt, pepper, bread crumbs, Parmesan, lemons, gravy, tomatoes.
Ingredients: Sweetbread, butter, herbs, salt, pepper, bread crumbs, Parmesan, lemons, gravy, tomatoes.
Blanch a pound of sweetbread cuttings, mix it with two ounces of melted butter, chopped herbs, salt, and pepper, and put it into paper souffle cases. Then strew over each some bread crumbs mixed with grated Parmesan, put the cases in the oven, and when they are browned serve either with good gravy and lemon juice or with tomato sauce (No. 9).
Blanch a pound of sweetbread cuttings, mix it with two ounces of melted butter, chopped herbs, salt, and pepper, and put it into paper souffle cases. Then sprinkle some bread crumbs mixed with grated Parmesan on top of each one, place the cases in the oven, and when they are browned, serve them with either good gravy and lemon juice or with tomato sauce (No. 9).
No. 114. Animelle all'Italiana (Sweetbread)
Ingredients: Sweetbread, butter, onions, salt, herbs, eggs, glaze, Risotto (No. 190), truffles, quenelles of fowl, Espagnole sauce, white sauce.
Ingredients: Sweetbread, butter, onions, salt, herbs, eggs, glaze, Risotto (No. 190), truffles, fowl quenelles, Espagnole sauce, white sauce.
Blanch as many sweetbreads as you require, cut them into quarters and saute them in butter with a small onion cut up, salt, and a bunch of herbs. Then pour over them two cups of white sauce and cook gently for twenty minutes; take out the sweetbreads and put them in a stewpan. Reduce the sauce, and add to it a mixture made of the yolks of four eggs, one and a half ounce of butter and a teaspoonful of glaze; pass it through a sieve, pour it over the sweetbreads, and keep them warm in a bain-marie. Have ready a good Risotto all'Italiana (No. 190), and put it into a border mould (but first decorate the inside of the mould with slices of truffle), put it in a moderate oven, and when it is warm turn it out on a dish. Place the sweetbreads on the risotto and fill in the centre with quenelles of fowl and Espagnole sauce (No. 1).
Blanch as many sweetbreads as you need, cut them into quarters, and sauté them in butter with a chopped small onion, salt, and a bunch of herbs. Then pour two cups of white sauce over them and cook gently for twenty minutes; remove the sweetbreads and place them in a stewpan. Reduce the sauce, and add a mixture made with the yolks of four eggs, one and a half ounces of butter, and a teaspoon of glaze; strain it through a sieve, pour it over the sweetbreads, and keep them warm in a bain-marie. Prepare a good Risotto all'Italiana (No. 190) and put it into a border mold (but first decorate the inside of the mold with slices of truffle), place it in a moderate oven, and when it’s warm, turn it out onto a dish. Arrange the sweetbreads on the risotto and fill the center with quenelles of fowl and Espagnole sauce (No. 1).
No. 115. Animelle Lardellate (Sweetbread)
Ingredients: Sweetbreads, larding, bacon, stock, a macedoine of vegetables.
Ingredients: Sweetbreads, larding, bacon, stock, a mix of diced vegetables.
Blanch two sweetbreads, lard them, and cook them very slowly in good stock. Skim the stock and reduce it to a glaze to cover the sweetbreads. Then cut them into three or four pieces and arrange them round a dish, but see that the larding is well glazed over. In the centre of the dish place a piece of bread in the shape of a cup and fill this with a macedoine of vegetables.
Blanch two sweetbreads, lard them, and cook them very slowly in good stock. Skim the stock and reduce it to a glaze to cover the sweetbreads. Then cut them into three or four pieces and arrange them around a dish, making sure the larding is well glazed. In the center of the dish, place a piece of bread shaped like a cup and fill it with diced vegetables.
No. 116. Frittura di Bottoni e di Animelle (Sweetbread and Mushrooms)
Ingredients: Sweetbread, fresh button mushrooms, flour, bread crumbs, salt, pepper, parsley, butter, lemons.
Ingredients: Sweetbread, fresh button mushrooms, flour, bread crumbs, salt, pepper, parsley, butter, lemons.
Peel some button mushrooms and cut them in halves. Boil a sweetbread, and cut it into pieces about the same size as the mushrooms, flour, egg, and bread crumb them, and fry in butter; then serve with a garnish of fried parsley. Hand cut lemons with this dish.
Peel some button mushrooms and cut them in half. Boil sweetbread, and cut it into pieces about the same size as the mushrooms. Coat them in flour, egg, and breadcrumbs, and fry in butter. Then serve with a garnish of fried parsley. Serve cut lemons with this dish.
No. 117. Cervello in Fili serbe (Calf's Brains)
Ingredients: Calf's brains, stock, butter, parsley, lemon.
Boil half a calf's brain in good stock for ten minutes then drain and pour a little melted butter and the juice of half a lemon over the brain; add some chopped parsley fried for one minute in butter, and serve as hot as possible.
Boil half a calf's brain in good broth for ten minutes, then drain it and pour a little melted butter and the juice of half a lemon over the brain. Add some chopped parsley that has been sautéed for one minute in butter, and serve it as hot as you can.
No. 118. Cervello alla Milanese (Calf's Brains)
Ingredients: Calf s brains, eggs, bread crumbs, butter.
Scald a calf's brain and let it get cold. Wipe it on a cloth, and get it as dry as possible, then cut it into pieces about the size of a walnut, egg and bread crumb them, fry in butter, and strew a little salt over them.
Scald a calf's brain and let it cool down. Wipe it with a cloth to make it as dry as possible, then cut it into pieces the size of a walnut. Dip them in egg and breadcrumbs, fry in butter, and sprinkle a little salt on top.
No. 119. Cervello alla Villeroy (Calf's Brains)
Ingredients: Calf's brains, eggs, flour, mushrooms, Velute sauce.
Scald a calf's brain, and when cold cut it up and mask each piece with a thick sauce made of well-reduced Velute (No. 2), mixed with chopped cooked mushrooms; flour them over and dip them into the yolk of an egg, and fry as quickly as possible.
Scald a calf's brain, and when it's cool, chop it into pieces and cover each piece with a thick sauce made from well-reduced Veloute (No. 2), mixed with chopped cooked mushrooms; dust them with flour, dip them in egg yolk, and fry them as quickly as possible.
No. 120. Frittura of Liver and Brains
Ingredients: Calf's liver and brains (or lamb's or pig's fry), butter, ham, flour, puff pastry.
Ingredients: Calf's liver and brains (or lamb's or pig's fry), butter, ham, flour, puff pastry.
Cut up half a pound of liver in small slices, flour and fry them in butter or dripping, together with a calf's or pig's or sheep's brain, previously scalded and also cut up. Serve with bits of fried ham and little diamond-shaped pieces of puff pastry.
Cut half a pound of liver into small slices, coat them in flour, and fry them in butter or animal fat, along with a calf's, pig's, or sheep's brain that has been scalded and chopped. Serve with pieces of fried ham and small diamond-shaped pieces of puff pastry.
No. 121. Cervello in Frittata Montano (Calf's Brains)
Ingredients: Calf's brains, stock, cream, eggs, spice, Parmesan, butter.
Boil a calf's brain in good stock for ten minutes, let it get cold, cut it up into little balls, and mask each piece with a mixture made of half a gill of cream, the yolks of two eggs, a little spice, a tablespoonful of grated Parmesan, and the whites of two eggs well beaten up. Fry the balls in butter, and serve as hot as possible. You may mask and cook the calf's brain without cutting it up, if you prefer it so.
Boil a calf's brain in good broth for ten minutes, let it cool, cut it into small balls, and coat each piece with a mixture of half a gill of cream, the yolks of two eggs, a bit of spice, a tablespoonful of grated Parmesan, and the whites of two eggs beaten until fluffy. Fry the balls in butter and serve them as hot as you can. You can coat and cook the calf's brain whole if you prefer that.
No. 122. Marinata di Cervello alla Villeroy (Calf's Brains)
Ingredients: Calf's brains, stock, Bechamel sauce, eggs, butter, lemon, forcemeat of fowl, flour.
Ingredients: Calf's brains, broth, creamy white sauce, eggs, butter, lemon, ground poultry, flour.
Boil a calf's or sheep's brain in good stock, wipe it well, and cut it up. Reduce a pint of Bechamel (No. 3), and add to it the yolks of three eggs, an ounce of butter, and the juice of a lemon. When it boils throw in the cut-up brain; let it cool, then take out the brain and form it into little balls about the size of a small walnut. Make a forcemeat of fowl, and add a dessert-spoonful of flour to it, and spread it out very thin on a paste-board, and into this wrap the balls of brain, each separately. Dip them into a pasta marinate (No. 17), and fry them a golden brown.
Boil a calf's or sheep's brain in good stock, wipe it clean, and chop it up. Reduce a pint of Bechamel (No. 3), then add the yolks of three eggs, an ounce of butter, and the juice of a lemon. When it starts to boil, add the chopped brain; let it cool, then remove the brain and form it into small balls about the size of a small walnut. Make a forcemeat of chicken, add a dessert spoonful of flour to it, and roll it out very thin on a cutting board. Wrap each brain ball separately in this mixture. Dip them into a pasta marinate (No. 17), and fry until golden brown.
No. 123. Minuta alla Milanese (Lamb's Sweetbread)
Ingredients: Lamb's sweetbread, butter, onions, stock, Chablis, salt, lemon, herbs, cocks' combs, fowls' livers.
Ingredients: Lamb sweetbreads, butter, onions, stock, Chablis, salt, lemon, herbs, chicken combs, chicken livers.
Cut up equal quantities of lamb's sweetbreads, cocks' combs, fowls' livers in pieces about the size of a filbert, flour and fry them slightly in butter and a small bit of onion, add half a glass of Chablis, a cup of good stock, and a bunch of herbs. Reduce the sauce, and thicken it with a tablespoonful of butter and flour fried together. Make a border of Risotto all'Italiana (No. 190), and put the sweetbread, &c., together with the sauce in the centre.
Cut equal amounts of lamb’s sweetbreads, chicken combs, and chicken livers into pieces roughly the size of a hazelnut. Coat them in flour and lightly fry them in butter with a small bit of onion. Then add half a glass of Chablis, a cup of good stock, and a bunch of herbs. Reduce the sauce and thicken it with a tablespoon of butter and flour that have been fried together. Create a border of Risotto all'Italiana (No. 190) and place the sweetbreads and sauce in the center.
No. 124. Animelle al Sapor di Targone (Lamb's Fry)
Ingredients: Lamb's fry, ham, garlic, larding bacon, spice, herbs, butter, flour, stock.
Ingredients: Lamb fry, ham, garlic, larding bacon, spices, herbs, butter, flour, stock.
The lamb's fry should be nearly all sweetbread, and very little liver. Lard each piece with bacon and ham, and roll it in chopped herbs and a pinch of pounded spice. Then dip it in flour and braize in good stock, to which add three ounces of butter, some bits of bacon, ham, a bay leaf, herbs, and a clove of garlic with two cuts. Cook until the fry is well glazed over, and serve with Tarragon sauce (No. 8). Do not leave the garlic in longer than ten minutes.
The lamb's fry should mainly consist of sweetbread, with very little liver. Lard each piece with bacon and ham, then roll it in chopped herbs and a pinch of ground spice. Next, dip it in flour and braise in good stock, to which you should add three ounces of butter, some pieces of bacon, ham, a bay leaf, herbs, and a clove of garlic with two slits cut in it. Cook until the fry is well glazed, and serve with Tarragon sauce (No. 8). Don’t leave the garlic in for more than ten minutes.
No. 125. Fritto Misto alla Villeroy
Ingredients: Cocks' combs, calf's brains, sweetbread, stock, truffles, mushrooms, Villeroy, eggs, bread crumbs.
Ingredients: Chicken combs, calf brains, sweetbreads, broth, truffles, mushrooms, Villeroy sauce, eggs, bread crumbs.
Cook some big cocks' combs, bits of calf s brains, and sweetbread in good stock, then drain them and marinate them slightly in lemon juice and herbs. Prepare a Villeroy (No. 18), and add to it cuttings of sweetbread, brains, truffles, mushrooms, &c. When it is cold, mask the cocks' combs and other ingredients with it, egg and bread-crumb them, and fry them a golden brown.
Cook some large rooster combs, pieces of calf's brains, and sweetbread in good stock, then drain them and lightly marinate them in lemon juice and herbs. Prepare a Villeroy (No. 18), and add to it pieces of sweetbread, brains, truffles, mushrooms, etc. When it's cold, coat the rooster combs and other ingredients with it, dip them in egg and breadcrumbs, and fry them until golden brown.
No. 126. Fritto Misto alla Piemontese
Ingredients: Sweetbread, calf s brains, ox palate, flour, eggs, Chablis, salt, herbs butter.
Ingredients: Sweetbreads, calf's brains, ox palate, flour, eggs, Chablis, salt, and herb butter.
Make a thin paste with a tablespoonful of flour, the yolks of two eggs, two Spoonsful of Chablis, and a little salt. Mix this up well, and if it is too thick add a little water. Beat up the whites of the two eggs into a snow. In the meantime blanch a sweetbread, half a calf's brain, and a few bits of cooked ox palate; boil them all up with a bunch of herbs; cut them into pieces about the size of a walnut, and dip them into the paste so that each piece is well covered, then dip them into the beaten-up whites of egg, and fry them very quickly in butter. This fry is generally served with a garnish of French beans, which should not be cut up, but half boiled, then dried, floured over and fried together with the other ingredients. The ox palates should be boiled for at least six hours before you use them in this dish.
Make a thin paste using a tablespoon of flour, the yolks of two eggs, two tablespoons of Chablis, and a little salt. Mix it well, and if it's too thick, add a bit of water. Whip the egg whites from the two eggs until they're fluffy. Meanwhile, blanch a sweetbread, half a calf's brain, and a few pieces of cooked ox tongue; boil them all with a bunch of herbs, then chop them into pieces about the size of a walnut. Dip each piece into the paste to coat it well, then dip them into the whipped egg whites, and quickly fry them in butter. This dish is typically served with whole French beans, which shouldn’t be cut up, but should be parboiled, then dried, floured, and fried along with the other ingredients. The ox tongues should be boiled for at least six hours before using them in this dish.
No. 127. Minuta di Fegatini (Ragout of Fowls' Livers)
Ingredients: Fowls' or turkeys' livers, flour, butter, parsley, onions, salt, pepper, stock, Chablis.
Ingredients: Chicken or turkey livers, flour, butter, parsley, onions, salt, pepper, stock, Chablis.
Cut the livers in half, flour them, and fry lightly in butter with chopped parsley, very little chopped onion, salt and pepper, then add a quarter pint of boiling stock and half a glass of Chablis, and cook until the sauce is somewhat reduced. You can also cook the livers simply in good meat gravy, but in this case they should not be floured. Serve with a border of macaroni (No. 183), or Risotto (No. 190), or Polenta (No. 187).
Cut the livers in half, coat them in flour, and lightly fry in butter with chopped parsley, a bit of chopped onion, salt, and pepper. Then, add a quarter pint of boiling stock and half a glass of Chablis, and cook until the sauce reduces a bit. You can also cook the livers in good meat gravy, but don’t flour them in that case. Serve with a border of macaroni (No. 183), or Risotto (No. 190), or Polenta (No. 187).
No. 128. Minuta alla Visconti (Chickens' Livers)
Ingredients: Fowls' livers, eggs, cheese, butter, cream, cayenne pepper.
Braize two fowls' livers in butter, then pound them up, and mix with a little cream, a tablespoonful of grated cheese and a dust of cayenne.
Sauté two chicken livers in butter, then mash them up and mix in a little cream, a tablespoon of grated cheese, and a sprinkle of cayenne.
Spread this rather thickly over small squares of toast, and keep them hot whilst you make a custard with half an ounce of butter, an egg well beaten up, and a tablespoonful of cheese. Stir it over the fire till thick and then spread it on the hot toast. Serve very hot. This makes a good savoury.
Spread this generously over small squares of toast and keep them warm while you prepare a custard with half an ounce of butter, a well-beaten egg, and a tablespoon of cheese. Stir it over the heat until thickened, then spread it on the hot toast. Serve very hot. This makes a nice savory dish.
No. 129. Croutons alla Principesca
Ingredients: Croutons, tongue, sweetbread, truffles, fowl or game, Velute sauce, stock, eggs, butter.
Ingredients: Croutons, tongue, sweetbread, truffles, chicken or game, velouté sauce, broth, eggs, butter.
Fry a bit of bread in butter till it is a light brown colour, then cut it into heart-shaped pieces. Prepare a ragout with bits of tongue, sweetbread, fowl or game, truffles, two or three spoonsful of well-reduced Velute sauce (No. 2), and two or three of reduced gravy. Put a spoonful of the ragout in each crouton, and over it a layer of fowl forcemeat half an inch thick; trim the edges neatly, glaze them with the yolk of eggs beaten up, and put them in a buttered fireproof dish in the oven for twenty minutes. Then glaze them with reduced stock and serve hot.
Fry some bread in butter until it turns light brown, then cut it into heart shapes. Make a ragout with chunks of tongue, sweetbread, chicken or game, truffles, and two or three spoonfuls of well-reduced Veloute sauce (No. 2), along with two or three spoonfuls of reduced gravy. Place a spoonful of the ragout on each crouton, and top it with a half-inch thick layer of chicken forcemeat; trim the edges neatly, glaze them with beaten egg yolk, and place them in a buttered oven-safe dish for twenty minutes. Then, glaze them with reduced stock and serve hot.
For a maigre dish use fish for the ragout and forcemeat.
For a lean dish, use fish for the stew and stuffing.
No. 130. Croutons alla Romana
Ingredients: Bread, fowl forcemeat, tongue, truffles, herbs, cream, stock, butter, flour, eggs.
Ingredients: Bread, ground chicken or turkey, tongue, truffles, herbs, cream, broth, butter, flour, eggs.
Cut a bit of crumb of bread into round or square shapes, and on each put a spoonful of fowl or rabbit forcemeat, a little chopped tongue, and a slight flavouring of chopped herbs; cover with a slice of bread the same shape as the underneath piece, put them in a buttered fireproof dish, and moisten them well with cream, butter, and stock. Cook until all the liquor is absorbed, but turn them over so that both sides may be well cooked, then flour and dip them into beaten-up eggs; fry them a good colour and serve very hot.
Cut small rounds or squares of bread, and on each, place a spoonful of ground fowl or rabbit, a bit of chopped tongue, and a slight hint of chopped herbs; cover with a slice of bread of the same shape as the bottom piece. Put them in a buttered oven-safe dish and moisten them well with cream, butter, and broth. Cook until all the liquid is absorbed, but flip them over to ensure both sides are well cooked. Then, dust them with flour and dip them in beaten eggs; fry until golden brown and serve very hot.
For a maigre dish use forcemeat of fish or lobster, and more cream instead of stock.
For a light dish, use fish or lobster mousse, and add more cream instead of broth.
Fowl, Duck, Game, Hare, Rabbit, &c.
No. 131. Soffiato di Cappone (Fowl Souffle)
Ingredients: Fowl, Bechamel, stock, semolina flour, potatoes, salt, eggs, butter, smoked tongue or ham.
Ingredients: Chicken, béchamel sauce, broth, semolina flour, potatoes, salt, eggs, butter, smoked tongue or ham.
Prepare a puree of fowl or turkey and a small quantity of grated tongue or ham, and whilst you are pounding the meat add some good gravy or stock. Then make a Bechamel sauce (No. 3) and add two table-spoonsful of semolina flour, a boiled potato and salt to taste, boil it up and add the puree of fowl, then let it get nearly cold, add yolks of eggs and the white beaten up into a snow. (For one pint of the puree use the yolks of three eggs.) Pour the whole into a buttered souffle case, and half an hour before serving put it in a moderate oven and serve hot. You can use game instead of fowl, and serve in little souffle cases.
Prepare a puree of chicken or turkey along with a small amount of grated tongue or ham. While you're mashing the meat, add some good gravy or stock. Then make a Bechamel sauce (No. 3) and mix in two tablespoons of semolina flour, a boiled potato, and salt to taste. Bring it to a boil and then stir in the meat puree. Let it cool slightly before adding the egg yolks and the whipped egg white. (For every pint of puree, use the yolks of three eggs.) Pour the mixture into a buttered souffle dish, and about half an hour before serving, place it in a moderate oven and serve hot. You can use game instead of chicken and serve it in small souffle dishes.
No. 132. Pollo alla Fiorentina (Chicken)
Ingredients: Fowl, butter, vegetables, rice or macaroni, peppercorns, stock, ham, tomatoes, bay leaves, onions, cloves, Liebig.
Ingredients: Chicken, butter, vegetables, rice or pasta, peppercorns, broth, ham, tomatoes, bay leaves, onions, cloves, Liebig.
Roll up a fowl in buttered paper and put it in the oven in a fireproof dish with all kinds of vegetables and a few peppercorns. Leave it there for about two hours, then put the fowl and vegetables into two quarts of good stock and let it simmer for one hour; serve on well-boiled rice or macaroni and pour the following sauce over it. Sauce: Two pounds tomatoes, one big cup of good stock, a quarter pound of chopped ham, three bay leaves, one onion stuck with cloves, one teaspoonful of Liebig. Simmer an hour and a half.
Wrap a chicken in buttered paper and place it in the oven in a fireproof dish along with various vegetables and a few peppercorns. Let it cook for about two hours, then transfer the chicken and vegetables to two quarts of good stock and let it simmer for one hour; serve it over well-cooked rice or macaroni and drizzle the following sauce on top. Sauce: Two pounds of tomatoes, one large cup of good stock, a quarter pound of chopped ham, three bay leaves, one onion studded with cloves, one teaspoon of Liebig. Simmer for an hour and a half.
No. 133. Pollo all'Oliva (Chicken)
Ingredients: Fowl, onions, celery, salt, parsley, carrots, butter, stock, olives, tomatoes.
Ingredients: Chicken, onions, celery, salt, parsley, carrots, butter, broth, olives, tomatoes.
Cut up half an onion, a stick of celery, a sprig of parsley, a carrot, and cook them all in a quarter pound of butter. Into this put a fowl cut up and let it act brown all over, turn when necessary and then baste it with boiling stock. Add four Spanish olives cut up and four others pounded in a mortar, eight whole olives and three tablespoonsful of tomato puree reduced, and when the fowl is well cooked pour the sauce over it.
Chop up half an onion, a stick of celery, a sprig of parsley, and a carrot, then cook them all in a quarter pound of butter. Add a cut-up chicken and let it brown all over, turning as needed and basting it with hot stock. Stir in four chopped Spanish olives and four others mashed in a mortar, along with eight whole olives and three tablespoons of reduced tomato puree. Once the chicken is fully cooked, pour the sauce over it.
No. 134. Pollo alla Villereccia (Chicken)
Ingredients: Fowl, butter, flour, stock, bacon, ham, mushrooms, onions, cloves, eggs, cream, lemons.
Ingredients: Chicken, butter, flour, broth, bacon, ham, mushrooms, onions, cloves, eggs, cream, lemons.
Cut up a fowl into quarters and put it into a saucepan with three ounces of butter and a tablespoonful of flour Put it on the fire, and when it is well browned add half a pint of stock, bits of bacon and ham, butter, three mushrooms (previously boiled), an onion stuck with three cloves. When this is cooked skim off the grease, pass the sauce through a sieve, and add the yolks of two eggs mixed with two tablespoonsful of cream. Lastly, add a squeeze of lemon juice to the sauce and pour it over the fowl.
Cut up a chicken into quarters and place it in a saucepan with three ounces of butter and a tablespoon of flour. Put it on the heat, and when it’s nicely browned, add half a pint of stock, pieces of bacon and ham, more butter, three mushrooms (previously boiled), and an onion stuck with three cloves. Once this is cooked, skim off the grease, strain the sauce through a sieve, and mix in the yolks of two eggs combined with two tablespoons of cream. Finally, add a squeeze of lemon juice to the sauce and pour it over the chicken.
No. 135. Pollo alla Cacciatora (Chicken)
Ingredients: The same as No. 134 and tomatoes.
Cook the fowl exactly as above, but add either a puree of tomatoes or tomato sauce.
Cook the chicken just like before, but add either a tomato puree or tomato sauce.
No. 136. Pollastro alla Lorenese (Fowl)
Ingredients: Fowl, butter, parsley, lemon, small onions, bread crumbs.
Cut up a fowl and put it into a frying pan with two ounces of butter, one onion cut up and a sprig of chopped parsley, salt and pepper; put it on the fire and cook it, but turn the pieces several times: then take them out and roll them whilst hot in bread crumbs, and fry them. Serve with cut lemons.
Cut up a chicken and put it in a frying pan with two ounces of butter, one chopped onion, a sprig of chopped parsley, salt, and pepper; place it over the heat and cook it, turning the pieces several times. Then remove them and roll them in breadcrumbs while hot, and fry them. Serve with sliced lemons.
No. 137. Pollastro in Fricassea al Burro (Fowl)
Ingredients: Fowl, butter, fat bacon, ham, mushrooms, truffles, herbs, spice, gravy.
Ingredients: Chicken, butter, fatty bacon, ham, mushrooms, truffles, herbs, spices, gravy.
Cut up a fowl and cook it in a fricassee of butter, bacon, ham, herbs, mushrooms, truffles, spice, and good gravy or stock. Serve in its own gravy.
Cut up a chicken and cook it in a fricassee with butter, bacon, ham, herbs, mushrooms, truffles, spices, and good gravy or stock. Serve it in its own gravy.
No. 138. Pollastro in istufa di Pomidoro (Braized Fowl)
Ingredients: Fowl, bacon, ham, bay leaf, spice, garlic, Burgundy, tomatoes.
Ingredients: Chicken, bacon, ham, bay leaf, spices, garlic, Burgundy wine, tomatoes.
Braize a fowl with bits of fat bacon, ham, a bay leaf, a clove of garlic with one cut in it, a pinch of spice, and a glass of Burgundy. Only leave the garlic in for five minutes. When cooked serve with tomato sauce (No. 9).
Braise a chicken with pieces of fatty bacon, ham, a bay leaf, a clove of garlic (with one cut in it), a pinch of spice, and a glass of Burgundy. Just leave the garlic in for five minutes. When it's done, serve it with tomato sauce (No. 9).
No. 139. Cappone con Riso (Capon with Rice)
Ingredients: Capon, veal forcemeat, fat bacon, stock, rice, truffles, mushrooms, cocks' combs, kidneys or fowls' liver, supreme sauce, milk, Chablis.
Ingredients: Capon, veal stuffing, fatty bacon, broth, rice, truffles, mushrooms, chicken combs, kidneys or chicken liver, supreme sauce, milk, Chablis.
Stuff a fine capon with a good firm forcemeat made of veal, tongue, ham, and chopped truffles; cover it with larding bacon; tie it up in buttered paper, and cook it in very good white stock. In the meantime boil four ounces of rice in milk till quite stiff, mix in some chopped truffles, and make ten little timbales of it. Take out the capon when it is sufficiently cooked and place it on a dish; garnish it with cooked mushrooms, cocks' combs, kidneys, or fowls' livers, and pour a sauce supreme (No. 16) over it; round the dish place the timbales of rice, and between each put a whole truffle cooked in white wine. Serve a sauce supreme in a sauce bowl.
Stuff a nice capon with a solid filling made from veal, tongue, ham, and chopped truffles; cover it with larding bacon; wrap it in buttered paper, and cook it in high-quality white stock. Meanwhile, boil four ounces of rice in milk until it’s quite thick, mix in some chopped truffles, and form ten little timbales from it. Once the capon is cooked, take it out and place it on a serving dish; garnish it with cooked mushrooms, cocks' combs, kidneys, or chicken livers, and pour a sauce supreme (No. 16) over it; arrange the rice timbales around the dish, placing a whole truffle cooked in white wine between each. Serve additional sauce supreme in a sauce bowl.
No. 140. Dindo Arrosto alla Milanese (Roast Turkey)
Ingredients: Turkey, sausage meat, prunes, chestnuts, a pear, butter, Marsala, salt, rosemary, bacon, carrot, onion, turnip, garlic.
Ingredients: Turkey, sausage meat, prunes, chestnuts, a pear, butter, Marsala, salt, rosemary, bacon, carrot, onion, turnip, garlic.
Blanch for seven or eight minutes three prunes, quarter of a pound of sausage meat, three tablespoonsful of chestnut puree, two small slices of bacon, half a cooked pear, and saute them in butter; chop up the liver and gizzard of the turkey, mix them with the other ingredients, and add half a glass of Marsala; use this as a stuffing for the turkey, and first braize it for three quarters of an hour with salt, butter, a blade of rosemary, bits of fat bacon, a carrot, a turnip, an onion, three cloves, and a clove of garlic with a cut; then roast it before a clear fire for about twenty minutes; put it back into the sauce till it is ready to serve. Only leave the garlic in ten minutes.
Blanch three prunes, a quarter pound of sausage meat, three tablespoons of chestnut puree, two small slices of bacon, and half a cooked pear for seven or eight minutes, then sauté them in butter. Chop up the liver and gizzard of the turkey, mix them with the other ingredients, and add half a glass of Marsala. Use this mixture as stuffing for the turkey. First, braise it for three-quarters of an hour with salt, butter, a sprig of rosemary, pieces of fat bacon, a carrot, a turnip, an onion, three cloves, and a clove of garlic that’s been split. Then roast it over a clear fire for about twenty minutes, and put it back into the sauce until it's ready to serve. Just remember to leave the garlic in for only ten minutes.
No. 141. Tacchinotto all'Istrione (Turkey Poult)
Ingredients: A turkey poult, ham, mace, bay leaves, lemons, water, salt, onions, parsley, celery, carrots, Chablis.
Ingredients: A young turkey, ham, mace, bay leaves, lemons, water, salt, onions, parsley, celery, carrots, Chablis.
Truss a turkey poult, and cover it all over with slices of ham or bacon, put two bay leaves and four slices of lemon on it, and sprinkle with a small pinch of mace, then sew it up tight in a dishcloth, and stew it in good stock, salt, an onion, parsley, a stick of celery, a carrot, and a pint of Chablis; cook for an hour, take it out of the cloth, and pour a good rich sauce over it. It is also good cold with aspic jelly.
Truss a young turkey and wrap it completely in slices of ham or bacon. Add two bay leaves and four slices of lemon on top, and sprinkle it with a small pinch of mace. Then, tightly sew it up in a dishcloth and simmer it in good stock, salt, an onion, parsley, a stick of celery, a carrot, and a pint of Chablis. Cook for an hour, remove it from the cloth, and pour a rich sauce over it. It also tastes great cold with aspic jelly.
No. 142. Fagiano alla Napoletana (Pheasant)
Ingredients: Pheasant, macaroni, gravy, butter, Parmesan, tomatoes.
Lard a pheasant, roast it, and serve it on a layer of macaroni cooked with good reduced gravy, two ounces of butter, a tablespoonful of grated Parmesan, and a puree of tomatoes. Serve with Neapolitan sauce (No. 12) in a sauce bowl.
Lard a pheasant, roast it, and serve it on a layer of macaroni cooked with good reduced gravy, two ounces of butter, a tablespoon of grated Parmesan, and a tomato puree. Serve with Neapolitan sauce (No. 12) in a sauce bowl.
No. 143. Fagiano alla Perigo (Pheasant)
Ingredients: Pheasant, butter, truffles, larding bacon, Madeira.
Make a mixture of three tablespoonsful of chopped truffles, three ounces of butter and a little salt, and with this stuff a pheasant. Then cover it with slices of fat bacon and keep it in a cool place till next day. A few hours before serving, roast the pheasant and baste it well with melted butter and a wine-glass of Madeira or Marsala. Make a crouton of fried bread the shape of your dish, and over this put a Layer of forcemeat of fowl and a number of small fowl quenelles; cover them with buttered paper, then put the dish in the oven for a few minutes so as to settle the forcemeat. When the pheasant is cooked, place it on the crouton and garnish it with slices of truffle which have been previously cooked in Madeira, and serve with a Perigord sauce.
Combine three tablespoons of chopped truffles, three ounces of butter, and a pinch of salt, and use this mixture to stuff a pheasant. Then cover it with slices of fatty bacon and keep it in a cool place until the next day. A few hours before serving, roast the pheasant, basting it generously with melted butter and a glass of Madeira or Marsala wine. Make a crouton from fried bread in the shape of your dish, and place a layer of fowl forcemeat and some small fowl quenelles on top. Cover them with buttered paper, then put the dish in the oven for a few minutes to set the forcemeat. Once the pheasant is cooked, place it on the crouton and garnish it with slices of truffle that have been cooked in Madeira, then serve it with a Perigord sauce.
No. 144. Anitra Selvatica (Wild Duck)
Ingredients: Wild duck, butter, fowls' livers, Marsala, gravy, turnips, carrots, parsley, mushrooms.
Ingredients: Wild duck, butter, chicken livers, Marsala wine, gravy, turnips, carrots, parsley, mushrooms.
Cut a wild duck into quarters and put it into a stewpan with two fowls' livers cut up and fried in butter. When the pieces of duck are coloured on both sides, pour off the butter, and in its place pour a glass of Marsala, a cup of stock, and a cup of Espagnole sauce (No.1), and cook gently for ten minutes. In the meantime shape and blanch six young turnips and as many young carrots, put them into a stewpan, and on the top of them put the pieces of wild duck, liver, &c. Pass the liquor through a sieve and pour it over the wild duck, add a bunch of parsley and other herbs and five little mushrooms cut up, and cook on a slow fire for half an hour. Skim the sauce, pass it through a sieve and add a pinch of sugar. Put the pieces of wild duck in an entree dish, add the vegetables, &c., pour the sauce over and serve.
Cut a wild duck into quarters and place it in a saucepan with two chopped poultry livers that have been fried in butter. Once the duck pieces are browned on both sides, drain the butter, then add a glass of Marsala, a cup of stock, and a cup of Espagnole sauce (No.1), and let it simmer gently for ten minutes. Meanwhile, prepare and blanch six young turnips and the same number of young carrots, place them in a saucepan, and arrange the pieces of wild duck and liver on top. Strain the liquid through a sieve and pour it over the wild duck, adding a bunch of parsley and other herbs, along with five small chopped mushrooms, and cook on low heat for half an hour. Skim the sauce, strain it again, and add a pinch of sugar. Arrange the pieces of wild duck on a serving dish, add the vegetables, pour the sauce over, and serve.
No. 145. Perniciotti alla Gastalda (Partridges)
Ingredients: Partridges, cauliflower, bacon, sausage, fowls' livers, carrots, onions herbs, stock, gravy, butter, Madeira.
Ingredients: Partridges, cauliflower, bacon, sausage, chicken livers, carrots, onions, herbs, stock, gravy, butter, Madeira.
Cut a cauliflower into quarters, blanch for a few minutes, drain, and put it into a saucepan with some bits of bacon. Let it drain on paper till dry, then arrange the bits in a circle in a deep stewpan, and in the centre put a small bit of sausage, the livers of the partridges, a fowl's liver cut up, a carrot, an onion, and a bunch of herbs. Cover about three-quarters high with good stock and gravy, put butter on the top and boil gently for an hour; then take out the sausage, replace it by two or three partridges, and simmer for three-quarters of an hour. In the meantime cut a sausage in thin slices and line a mould with it. When the birds are cooked, take them out, drain and cut them up, and fill the mould with alternate layers of partridge and cauliflower, and steam for half an hour. Five minutes before serving turn the mould over on a plate, but do not take it off, so as to let all the grease drain off. Cut up the fowls' and partridges' livers, make them into scallops and glaze them. Wipe off all the grease round the mould; take it off, garnish the dish with the scallops of liver and serve hot with an Espagnole sauce (No. 1) reduced, and add a glass of Madeira or Marsala, and a glass of essence of game to it. This is an excellent way of cooking an old partridge or pheasant.
Cut a cauliflower into quarters, blanch for a few minutes, drain, and put it into a saucepan with some bits of bacon. Let it drain on paper until dry, then arrange the bits in a circle in a deep pan, and in the center place a small piece of sausage, the livers of the partridges, a chopped fowl's liver, a carrot, an onion, and a bunch of herbs. Cover about three-quarters high with good stock and gravy, put butter on top, and simmer gently for an hour. Then take out the sausage and replace it with two or three partridges, and simmer for another forty-five minutes. In the meantime, slice a sausage thinly and line a mold with it. When the birds are cooked, take them out, drain and chop them up, and fill the mold with alternating layers of partridge and cauliflower, then steam for half an hour. Five minutes before serving, turn the mold over onto a plate but don’t take it off, so all the grease can drain off. Chop up the livers of the fowls and partridges, shape them into scallops, and glaze them. Wipe off any grease around the mold; take it off, garnish the dish with the liver scallops, and serve hot with a reduced Espagnole sauce (No. 1), adding a glass of Madeira or Marsala, along with a glass of game essence. This is a fantastic way to cook an old partridge or pheasant.
No. 146. Beccaccini alla Diplomatica (Snipe)
Ingredients: Snipe, ham, larding bacon, herbs, Marsala, croutons, truffles, cocks' combs, mushrooms, sweetbread, tongue.
Ingredients: Snipe, ham, larding bacon, herbs, Marsala wine, croutons, truffles, chicken combs, mushrooms, sweetbread, tongue.
Truss fourteen snipe and cook them in a mirepoix made with plenty of ham, fat bacon, herbs, and a wine glass of Marsala. When they are cooked pour off the sauce, skim off the grease and reduce it. Take the two smallest snipe and make a forcemeat of them by pounding them in a mortar with the livers of all the snipe, then dilute this with reduced Espagnole sauce (No. 1) and add it to the first sauce. Cut twelve croutons of bread just large enough to hold a snipe each, and fry them in butter. Add some chopped herbs and truffles to the forcemeat, spread it on the croutons, and on each place a snipe and cover it with a bit of fat bacon and buttered paper. Put them in a moderate oven for a few minutes, arrange them on a dish, and pour some of their own sauce over them. Garnish the spaces between the croutons with white cocks' combs, mushrooms, and truffles. The truffles should be scooped out and filled with a little stuffing of sweetbread, tongue, and truffles mixed with a little of the sauce of the snipe. Serve the rest of the sauce in a sauce-boat.
Truss fourteen snipe and cook them in a mixture of chopped vegetables made with plenty of ham, fatty bacon, herbs, and a glass of Marsala wine. Once they’re cooked, pour off the sauce, skim off the fat, and reduce it. Take the two smallest snipe and make a forcemeat by grinding them in a mortar with the livers of all the snipe, then mix this with the reduced Espagnole sauce (No. 1) and add it to the first sauce. Cut twelve small croutons of bread just big enough to hold one snipe each, and fry them in butter. Add some chopped herbs and truffles to the forcemeat, spread it on the croutons, place a snipe on each, and cover with a piece of fatty bacon and a sheet of buttered paper. Bake them in a moderate oven for a few minutes, arrange them on a plate, and drizzle some of their own sauce over them. Garnish the spaces between the croutons with white chicken combs, mushrooms, and truffles. The truffles should be hollowed out and filled with a little stuffing made from sweetbreads, tongue, and truffles mixed with some of the snipe sauce. Serve the rest of the sauce in a sauceboat.
No. 147. Piccioni alla minute (Pigeons)
Ingredients: Pigeons, butter, truffles, herbs, fowls' livers, sweetbread, salt, flour, stock, Burgundy.
Ingredients: Pigeons, butter, truffles, herbs, chicken livers, sweetbreads, salt, flour, broth, Burgundy.
Prepare two pigeons and put them into a stewpan with two ounces of butter, two truffles cut up, two fowls' livers, half-pound of sweetbread cuttings (boiled), a bunch of herbs and salt. Let them brown a little, then add a dessert-spoonful of flour mixed with stock, and half a glass of Burgundy, and stew gently for half an hour.
Prepare two pigeons and place them in a pot with two ounces of butter, two chopped truffles, two chicken livers, half a pound of boiled sweetbread pieces, a bunch of herbs, and salt. Let them brown slightly, then add a tablespoon of flour mixed with stock and half a glass of Burgundy, and simmer gently for half an hour.
No. 148. Piccioni in Ripieno (Stuffed Pigeons)
Ingredients: Pigeons, sweetbread, parsley, onions, carrots, salt, pepper, bacon, stock, Chablis, fowls' livers, and gizzards.
Ingredients: Pigeons, sweetbreads, parsley, onions, carrots, salt, pepper, bacon, stock, Chablis, chicken livers, and gizzards.
Cut up a sweetbread, a fowl's liver and gizzard, an onion, a sprig of parsley, and add salt and pepper. Put this stuffing into two pigeons, tie larding bacon over them, and put them into a stewpan with a glass of Chablis, a cup of stock, an onion, and a carrot. When cooked pass the sauce through a sieve, skim it, add a little more sauce, and pour it over the pigeons.
Chop up a sweetbread, a chicken liver and gizzard, an onion, a sprig of parsley, and add salt and pepper. Stuff this mixture into two pigeons, tie some larding bacon over them, and place them in a stew pan with a glass of Chablis, a cup of stock, an onion, and a carrot. Once cooked, strain the sauce through a sieve, skim off the fat, add a little more sauce, and pour it over the pigeons.
No. 149. Lepre in istufato (Stewed Hare)
Ingredients: Hare, butter, onions, garlic, marjoram, celery, ham, salt, Chablis, stock, mushrooms, spice, tomatoes.
Ingredients: Hare, butter, onions, garlic, marjoram, celery, ham, salt, Chablis, broth, mushrooms, spices, tomatoes.
Put into a stewpan three ounces of butter, an onion cut up, a clove of garlic with a cut across it, a sprig of marjoram, and a little cut-up ham. Fry these slightly, put the hare cut up into the same stewpan, and let it get brown. Then pour a glass of Chablis and a glass of stock over it; add a little tomato sauce or a mashed-up tomato, a pinch of spice, and a few mushrooms; take out the garlic and let the rest stew gently for an hour or more. Keep the cover on the stewpan, but stir the stew occasionally.
In a saucepan, melt three ounces of butter and add a chopped onion, a clove of garlic with a cut in it, a sprig of marjoram, and some diced ham. Sauté these lightly, then add the chopped hare to the same saucepan and let it brown. Next, pour in a glass of Chablis and a glass of stock. Add a bit of tomato sauce or a mashed tomato, a pinch of spice, and a few mushrooms. Remove the garlic and let everything simmer gently for an hour or more. Keep the lid on the saucepan, but stir the stew occasionally.
No. 150. Lepre Agro-dolce (Hare)
Ingredients: Hare, vinegar butter, onion, ham, stock salt, sugar, chocolate, almonds, raisins.
Ingredients: Hare, vinegar butter, onion, ham, stock salt, sugar, chocolate, almonds, raisins.
Cut up a hare and wash the pieces in vinegar, then cook them in butter, chopped onion, some bits of ham stock and a little salt. Half fill a wine-glass with sugar and add vinegar until the glass is three-quarters full mix the vinegar and sugar well together, and when the hare is browned all over and nearly cooked, pour the vinegar over it and add a dessert spoonful of grated chocolate a few shredded almonds and stoned raisins. Mix all well together and cook for a few minutes more. This is a favourite Roman dish.
Cut up a hare and wash the pieces in vinegar, then cook them in butter, chopped onion, some bits of ham stock, and a little salt. Fill half a wine glass with sugar and add vinegar until the glass is three-quarters full. Mix the vinegar and sugar well together, and when the hare is browned all over and nearly cooked, pour the vinegar mixture over it and add a dessert spoonful of grated chocolate, a few shredded almonds, and pitted raisins. Mix everything well and cook for a few more minutes. This is a favorite Roman dish.
No. 151. Coniglio alla Provenzale (Rabbit)
Ingredients: Rabbit, flour butter, stock, Chablis, parsley onion, spice, mushrooms.
Ingredients: Rabbit, flour, butter, stock, Chablis, parsley, onion, spices, mushrooms.
Cut up a rabbit, wipe the pieces, flour them over, and fry them in butter until they are coloured all over. Then pour a glass of Chablis over them, add some chopped parsley, half an onion, three mushrooms, salt, and a cup of good stock. Cover the stewpan and cook on a moderate fire for about three-quarters of an hour. Should the stew act too dry, add a spoonful of stock occasionally.
Cut up a rabbit, wipe the pieces, coat them in flour, and fry them in butter until they're browned all over. Then pour a glass of Chablis over them, add some chopped parsley, half an onion, three mushrooms, salt, and a cup of good stock. Cover the pot and cook on moderate heat for about 45 minutes. If the stew gets too dry, add a spoonful of stock as needed.
No. 152. Coniglio arrostito alla Corradino (Roast Rabbit)
Ingredients: Rabbit, pig's fry, butter, salt, pepper, fennel, bay leaf, onions.
Ingredients: Rabbit, pig's liver, butter, salt, pepper, fennel, bay leaf, onions.
Make a stuffing of pig's fry (previously cooked in butter), salt, pepper, fennel, an onion, all chopped up, and a bay leaf. With this stuff a rabbit well and braize it for half an hour, then roast it before a brisk fire and baste it well with good gravy. If you like, put in a clove of garlic with one cut whilst it is being braized, but only leave it in for five minutes. Serve with ham sauce (Salsa di prosciutto, No. 7.) A fowl may be cooked in this way.
Make a stuffing with pork kidneys (previously cooked in butter), salt, pepper, fennel, and an onion, all chopped up, with a bay leaf. Use this mixture to stuff a rabbit, braise it for half an hour, and then roast it over a strong fire, basting it frequently with good gravy. If you’d like, add a clove of garlic with a cut in it while it's being braised, but only leave it in for five minutes. Serve with ham sauce (Salsa di prosciutto, No. 7). You can also cook a chicken this way.
No. 153. Coniglio in salsa Piccante (Rabbit)
Ingredients: Rabbit, butter, flour, celery, parsley, onion, carrot, mushrooms, cloves, spices, Burgundy, stock, capers, anchovies.
Ingredients: Rabbit, butter, flour, celery, parsley, onion, carrot, mushrooms, cloves, spices, Burgundy wine, stock, capers, anchovies.
Cut up a rabbit, wipe the pieces well on a dishcloth, flour them over and put them into a frying-pan with two ounces of butter and fry for about ten minutes. Then add half a stick of celery, parsley, an onion, half a carrot, and three mushrooms, all cut up, three cloves, a pinch of spice and salt, a glass of Burgundy, and the same quantity of stock; cover the stewpan and cook for half an hour, then put the pieces of rabbit into another stewpan and pass the liquor through a sieve; press it well with a wooden spoon, so as to get as much through as possible, pour this over the rabbit and add four capers and an anchovy in brine pounded in a mortar, mix all well together, let it simmer for a few minutes, then serve hot with a garnish of croutons fried in butter.
Cut up a rabbit, wipe the pieces well with a dishcloth, coat them in flour, and put them in a frying pan with two ounces of butter. Fry for about ten minutes. Then add half a stick of celery, parsley, an onion, half a carrot, and three mushrooms, all chopped up, three cloves, a pinch of spice and salt, a glass of Burgundy, and the same amount of stock. Cover the stewpan and cook for half an hour. After that, put the pieces of rabbit into another stewpan and strain the liquid through a sieve, pressing it well with a wooden spoon to get as much through as possible. Pour this over the rabbit and add four capers and a brined anchovy, pounded in a mortar. Mix everything well together, let it simmer for a few minutes, and then serve hot with a garnish of croutons fried in butter.
Vegetables
No. 154. Asparagi alla salsa Suprema (Asparagus)
Ingredients: Asparagus, butter, nutmeg, salt, supreme sauce (No. 16) gravy, lemon, Parmesan.
Ingredients: Asparagus, butter, nutmeg, salt, supreme sauce (No. 16), gravy, lemon, Parmesan.
Cut some asparagus into pieces about an inch long and cook them in boiling water with salt, then drain and put them into a saute pan with one and a half ounce of melted butter and sautez for a few minutes, but first add salt, a pinch of nutmeg, and a dust of grated cheese. Pour a little supreme sauce over them, and at the last add a little gravy, one ounce of fresh butter, and a squeeze of lemon juice.
Cut some asparagus into pieces about an inch long and cook them in boiling water with salt. Then drain them and put them in a sauté pan with one and a half ounces of melted butter and sauté for a few minutes. First, add salt, a pinch of nutmeg, and a sprinkle of grated cheese. Pour a little supreme sauce over them, and at the end, add a bit of gravy, one ounce of fresh butter, and a squeeze of lemon juice.
No. 155. Cavoli di Bruxelles alla Savoiarda (Brussels Sprouts)
Ingredients: Brussels sprouts, butter, pepper, stock, Bechamel sauce, Parmesan, croutons.
Ingredients: Brussels sprouts, butter, pepper, stock, béchamel sauce, Parmesan, croutons.
Take off the outside leaves of half a pound of Brussels sprouts, wash and boil them in salted water. Let them get cool, drain, and put them in a pie-dish with two ounces of fresh butter, a quarter pint of very good stock, a little pepper, and a dust of grated Parmesan. When they are well glazed over, pour off the sauce, season with three tablespoonsful of boiling Bechamel sauce (No. 3), and serve with croutons fried in butter.
Remove the outer leaves from half a pound of Brussels sprouts, wash them, and boil them in salted water. Allow them to cool, drain, and place them in a pie dish with two ounces of fresh butter, a quarter pint of good stock, a bit of pepper, and a sprinkle of grated Parmesan. Once they’re nicely glazed, pour off the sauce, season with three tablespoons of hot Bechamel sauce (No. 3), and serve with croutons fried in butter.
No. 156. Barbabietola alla Parmigiana (Beetroot)
Ingredients: Beetroot, white sauce, Parmesan, Cheddar.
Boil a beetroot till it is quite tender, peel it, cut into slices, put it in a fireproof dish, and cover it with a thick white sauce. Strew a little grated Parmesan and Cheddar over it. Put it in the oven for a few minutes, and serve very hot in the dish.
Boil a beet until it's very tender, peel it, slice it, place it in an oven-safe dish, and cover it with a thick white sauce. Sprinkle a bit of grated Parmesan and Cheddar on top. Bake it in the oven for a few minutes, and serve it hot in the dish.
No. 157. Fave alla Savoiarda (Beans)
Ingredients: Beans, stock, a bunch of herbs, Bechamel sauce.
Boil one pound of broad beans in salt and water, skin and cook them in a saucepan with a quarter pint of reduced stock and a hunch of herbs. Drain them, take out the herbs, and season with two glasses of Bechamel sauce (No. 3).
Boil one pound of broad beans in salted water, peel and cook them in a saucepan with a quarter pint of reduced stock and a handful of herbs. Drain them, remove the herbs, and season with two glasses of Bechamel sauce (No. 3).
No. 158. Verze alla Capuccina (Cabbage)
Ingredients: Cabbage or greens, anchovies, salt, butter, parsley, gravy, Parmesan.
Ingredients: Cabbage or greens, anchovies, salt, butter, parsley, gravy, Parmesan.
Boil two cabbages in a good deal of water, and cut them into quarters. Fry two anchovies slightly in butter and chopped parsley, add the cabbages, and at the last three tablespoonsful of good gravy, two tablespoonsful of grated Parmesan, salt and pepper, and when cooked, serve.
Boil two cabbages in plenty of water and cut them into quarters. Sauté two anchovies lightly in butter with chopped parsley, then add the cabbages. Finally, mix in three tablespoons of good gravy, two tablespoons of grated Parmesan, salt, and pepper, and serve when cooked.
No. 159. Cavoli fiodi alla Lionese (Cauliflower)
Ingredients: Cauliflower, butter, onions, parsley, lemon, Espagnole sauce.
Ingredients: Cauliflower, butter, onions, parsley, lemon, Espagnole sauce.
Blanch a cauliflower and boil it, but not too much. Cut up a small onion, fry it slightly in butter and chopped parsley, and when it is well coloured, add the cauliflower and finish cooking it, then take it out, put it in a dish, pour a good Espagnole sauce (No. 1) over it, and add a squeeze of lemon juice.
Blanch a cauliflower and boil it, but don’t overdo it. Chop a small onion, sauté it lightly in butter with some chopped parsley, and when it’s nicely browned, add the cauliflower and finish cooking it. Then take it out, place it on a plate, pour a nice Espagnole sauce (No. 1) on top, and add a squeeze of lemon juice.
No. 160. Cavoli fiodi fritti (Cauliflower)
Ingredients: Cauliflower or broccoli, gravy, lemon, salt, eggs, butter.
Break up a broccoli or cauliflower into little bunches, blanch them, and put them on the fire in a saucepan with good gravy for a few minutes, then marinate them with lemon juice and salt, let them get cold, egg them over, and fry in butter.
Break up a broccoli or cauliflower into small florets, blanch them, and put them in a saucepan with good gravy for a few minutes. Then, marinate them with lemon juice and salt, let them cool, coat them in egg, and fry in butter.
No. 161. Cauliflower alla Parmigiana
Ingredients: Cauliflower, butter, Parmesan, Cheddar, Espagnole, stock.
Boil a cauliflower in salted water, then sautez it in butter, but be careful not to cook it too much. Take it off the fire and strew grated Parmesan and Cheddar over it then put in a fireproof dish and add a good spoonful of stock and one of Espagnole (No. 1), and put it in the oven for ten minutes.
Boil a cauliflower in salted water, then sauté it in butter, but be careful not to cook it too much. Remove it from the heat and sprinkle grated Parmesan and Cheddar over it, then place it in an oven-safe dish and add a generous spoonful of stock and one of Espagnole (No. 1), and put it in the oven for ten minutes.
No. 162. Cavoli Fiori Ripieni
Ingredients: Cauliflower, butter, stock, forcemeat of fowl, tongue, truffles, mushrooms, parsley, Espagnole, eggs.
Ingredients: Cauliflower, butter, broth, ground poultry, tongue, truffles, mushrooms, parsley, Espagnole sauce, eggs.
Break up a cauliflower into separate little bunches, blanch them, and put them in butter, and a quarter pint of reduced stock. Make a forcemeat of fowl, add bits of tongue, truffles, mushrooms, and parsley, all cut up small and mixed with butter. With this mask the pieces of cauliflower, egg and breadcrumb them, fry like croquettes, and serve with a good Espagnole sauce (No. 1).
Break a cauliflower into small florets, blanch them, and put them in butter and a quarter pint of reduced stock. Make a filling with chicken, adding chopped tongue, truffles, mushrooms, and parsley, all finely diced and mixed with butter. Use this to coat the cauliflower pieces, dip them in egg and breadcrumbs, fry them like croquettes, and serve with a good Espagnole sauce (No. 1).
No. 163. Sedani alla Parmigiana (Celery)
Ingredients: Celery, stock, ham, salt, pepper, Cheddar, Parmesan, butter, gravy.
Ingredients: Celery, broth, ham, salt, pepper, Cheddar cheese, Parmesan cheese, butter, gravy.
Cut all the green off a head of celery, trim the rest. Cut it into pieces about four inches long, blanch and braize them in good stock, ham, salt, and pepper. When cooked, drain and arrange them on a dish, sprinkle with grated Parmesan and Cheddar, and add one and a half ounce of butter, then put them in the oven till they have taken a good colour, pour a little good gravy over them and serve.
Cut off all the green from a head of celery and trim the rest. Slice it into pieces about four inches long, blanch and braise them in good stock, ham, salt, and pepper. Once cooked, drain and place them on a dish, sprinkle with grated Parmesan and Cheddar, and add one and a half ounces of butter. Then, put them in the oven until they develop a nice color, pour a little good gravy over them, and serve.
No. 164. Sedani fritti all'Italiana (Celery)
Ingredients: Same as No. 163, eggs, bread crumbs, tomatoes.
Prepare a head of celery as above, and cut it up into equal pieces. Blanch and braize as above, and when cold egg and breadcrumb and sautez in butter. Serve with tomato sauce.
Prepare a head of celery as described above, and chop it into even pieces. Blanch and braise as mentioned, and when cool, coat with egg and breadcrumbs, then sauté in butter. Serve with tomato sauce.
No. 165. Cetriuoli alla Parmigiana (Cucumber)
Ingredients: Cucumber, butter, cheese, gravy, salt, cayenne.
Cut a cucumber into slices about half an inch thick, boil for five minutes in salted water, drain in a sieve, and fry slightly in melted butter, then strew a little grated Parmesan over it, and add a good thick gravy, put it into the oven for ten minutes to brown, and serve as hot as possible.
Slice a cucumber into pieces about half an inch thick, boil them for five minutes in salted water, drain in a colander, and lightly fry in melted butter. Then sprinkle some grated Parmesan over it, add a thick gravy, place it in the oven for ten minutes to brown, and serve as hot as possible.
No. 166. Cetriuoli alla Borghese (Cucumber)
Ingredients: Cucumber, cream, salt, Bechamel sauce, butter, Parmesan, cayenne pepper.
Ingredients: Cucumber, cream, salt, béchamel sauce, butter, Parmesan, cayenne pepper.
Cook a cucumber as in No. 165, braize it for five minutes, add to it a good rich Bechamel (No. 3), mixed with cream and grated Parmesan Spread this well over the cucumber, and put it into the oven for ten minutes keeping the rounds of cucumber separate, so as to arrange them in a circle on a very hot dish. Care should be taken not to cook the cucumber too long, or it will break in pieces and spoil the look of the dish.
Cook a cucumber like in No. 165, braise it for five minutes, then add a rich Bechamel (No. 3) mixed with cream and grated Parmesan. Spread this mixture over the cucumber and place it in the oven for ten minutes, keeping the cucumber rounds separate so you can arrange them in a circle on a very hot dish. Be careful not to overcook the cucumber, or it will fall apart and ruin the presentation of the dish.
No. 167. Carote al sughillo (Carrots)
Ingredients: Carrots, stock, butter, sausage, pepper.
Boil some young carrots in stock, slice them up, and put them in a stewpan with a sausage cut up; cook for quarter of an hour on a slow fire, then stir up the fire, and when the carrots and sausage are a good colour add a good Espagnole sauce (No. 1), and serve.
Boil some young carrots in broth, slice them, and put them in a pot with sliced sausage; cook for 15 minutes on low heat, then increase the heat, and when the carrots and sausage are nicely browned, add a good Espagnole sauce (No. 1), and serve.
No. 168. Carote e piselli alla panna (Carrots and Peas)
Ingredients: Young carrots, peas, cream, salt.
Half cook equal quantities of peas and young carrots (the carrots should be cut in dice, and will require a little longer cooking), then put them together in a stewpan with three or four tablespoonsful of cream, and cook till quite tender. Serve hot.
Half cook equal amounts of peas and young carrots (the carrots should be diced, which will need a bit longer to cook), then combine them in a saucepan with three or four tablespoons of cream, and cook until fully tender. Serve hot.
No. 169. Verze alla Certosine (Cabbage)
Ingredients: Cabbage, butter, salt, leeks or shallots, sardines, cheese.
Any vegetable may be cooked in the following simple manner: Boil them well, then slightly fry a little bit of leek or shallot and a sardine in butter; drain the vegetables, put them in the butter, and cook gently so that they may absorb all the flavour, and at the last add a dust of grated cheese and a tiny pinch of spice.
Any vegetable can be cooked in this simple way: Boil them thoroughly, then lightly fry some leek or shallot and a sardine in butter. Drain the vegetables, add them to the butter, and cook gently so they can absorb all the flavor. Finally, sprinkle on some grated cheese and a tiny pinch of spice.
No. 170. Lattughe al sugo (Lettuce)
Ingredients: Lettuce, Parmesan, bacon, stock, butter, croutons of bread, gravy.
Ingredients: Lettuce, Parmesan cheese, bacon, broth, butter, bread croutons, gravy.
Take off the outside leaves of a lettuce, blanch and drain them well. Put on each leaf a mixture of grated Parmesan, salt, little bits of chopped bacon or ham, add a little good stock, cover over with buttered paper, and cook in a hot oven for five minutes. Then drain off the stock and roll up each leaf with the bacon, &c., put them on croutons of fried bread and pour some good thick gravy over them.
Remove the outer leaves of a lettuce, blanch them, and drain them well. On each leaf, spread a mixture of grated Parmesan, salt, small pieces of chopped bacon or ham, add a bit of good stock, cover with buttered paper, and cook in a hot oven for five minutes. Then, drain off the stock and roll up each leaf with the bacon, etc., place them on croutons of fried bread, and pour some thick gravy over them.
No. 171 Lattughe farcite alla Genovese (Lettuce)
Ingredients: Lettuce, forcemeat of fowl or veal, ham, Espagnole sauce.
Prepare a lettuce as above, and spread on each leaf a spoonful of forcemeat of fowl or veal, add a little cooked ham chopped up, roll up the leaves, and cook as above. Drain them on a cloth, arrange them neatly on a dish, and pour some good Espagnole sauce (No. 1) over them.
Prepare the lettuce as mentioned above, and spread a spoonful of finely minced chicken or veal on each leaf. Add some chopped cooked ham, roll the leaves up, and cook them as described earlier. Drain them on a cloth, arrange them neatly on a plate, and drizzle some good Espagnole sauce (No. 1) over them.
No. 172. Funghi cappelle infarcite (Stuffed Mushrooms)
Ingredients: Mushrooms, bread, stock, garlic, parsley, salt, Parmesan, butter, eggs, cream.
Ingredients: Mushrooms, bread, broth, garlic, parsley, salt, Parmesan cheese, butter, eggs, cream.
Choose a dozen good fresh mushrooms, take off the stalks and put the tops into a saucepan with a little butter. See that they lie bottom upwards. Then cut up and mix together half the stalks of the mushrooms, a little bread crumb soaked in gravy, the merest scrap of garlic and a little chopped parsley. Put this into a separate saucepan and add to it two eggs, half a gill of cream, salt, and two tablespoonsful of grated Parmesan. Mix well so as to get a smooth paste and fill in the cavities of the mushrooms with it. Then add a little more butter, strew some bread crumbs over each mushroom, and cook in the oven for ten to fifteen minutes.
Choose a dozen fresh mushrooms, remove the stems, and place the caps in a saucepan with a bit of butter, making sure they are facing up. Next, chop up half of the mushroom stems and mix them with some bread crumbs soaked in gravy, a small amount of garlic, and some chopped parsley. Transfer this mixture to another saucepan, then add two eggs, half a cup of cream, salt, and two tablespoons of grated Parmesan. Stir well to create a smooth paste and fill the cavities of the mushroom caps with this mixture. Then add a little more butter, sprinkle some bread crumbs on top of each mushroom, and bake in the oven for ten to fifteen minutes.
No. 173. Verdure miste (Macedoine of Vegetables)
Ingredients: Cauliflower, carrots, celery, spinach, butter, cream, pepper, Parmesan.
Ingredients: Cauliflower, carrots, celery, spinach, butter, cream, pepper, Parmesan.
Boil some carrots, cauliflower, spinach, and celery (all cut up) in water. Then put them in layers in a buttered china mould, and between each layer add a little cream, pepper, and a little grated Parmesan and Cheddar. Fill the mould in this manner, and put it in the oven for half an hour, so that the vegetables may cook without adhering to the mould. Turn out and serve.
Boil some chopped carrots, cauliflower, spinach, and celery in water. Then layer them in a buttered dish, adding a bit of cream, pepper, and some grated Parmesan and Cheddar between each layer. Fill the dish this way and put it in the oven for half an hour, so the vegetables cook without sticking to the dish. Turn it out and serve.
No. 174. Patate alla crema (Potatoes in cream)
Ingredients: Potatoes, butter, Parmesan, white stock, cream, pepper, salt.
Ingredients: Potatoes, butter, Parmesan cheese, chicken stock, cream, pepper, salt.
Boil two pounds of potatoes in salted water for a quarter of an hour, peel and cut them into slices about the size of a penny, then arrange them in layers in a very deep fireproof dish (with a lid), and on each layer pour a little melted butter, a little good white stock and a dust of grated Parmesan. Reduce a pint and a half of cream to half its quantity, add a little pepper, and pour it over the potatoes. Put the dish in the oven for twenty minutes. Serve as hot as possible.
Boil two pounds of potatoes in salted water for 15 minutes, peel them, and cut them into slices about the size of a penny. Then, layer them in a deep oven-safe dish (with a lid), adding a little melted butter, some good white stock, and a sprinkle of grated Parmesan on each layer. Reduce a pint and a half of cream by half, add a bit of pepper, and pour it over the potatoes. Place the dish in the oven for 20 minutes. Serve it as hot as possible.
No. 175. Cestelline di patate alla giardiniera (Potatoes)
Ingredients: Potatoes, white stock, salt, butter, peas, asparagus, sprouts, beans, &c.
Ingredients: Potatoes, white stock, salt, butter, peas, asparagus, sprouts, beans, etc.
Choose some big sound potatoes, cut them in half and scoop out a little of the centre so as to form a cavity, blanch them in salted water and cook for a quarter of an hour in good white stock and a little butter. Then fill in the cavities with a macedoine of cooked vegetables and add a little cream to each.
Choose some large, firm potatoes, cut them in half, and scoop out a bit of the center to create a hollow. Blanch them in salted water and cook for 15 minutes in good white stock with a bit of butter. Then, fill the hollows with a mix of cooked vegetables and add a little cream to each one.
No. 176. Patate al Pomidoro (Potatoes with Tomato Sauce)
Ingredients: Potatoes, butter, salt, tomatoes, lemon, stock.
Peel three or four raw potatoes, cut them in slices about the size of a five-shilling piece, then put them into a stewpan with two ounces of melted butter, and cook them gently until they are a good colour, add salt, drain off the butter, then glaze them by adding half a glass of good stock. Arrange them on a dish, pour some good tomato sauce over them, and add a little butter and a squeeze of lemon juice.
Peel three or four raw potatoes, cut them into slices about the size of a quarter, then put them in a pan with two ounces of melted butter, and cook them gently until they're nicely colored. Add salt, drain off the butter, then glaze them by adding half a glass of good stock. Arrange them on a dish, pour some good tomato sauce over them, and add a little butter and a squeeze of lemon juice.
No. 177. Spinaci alla Milanese (Spinach)
Ingredients: Spinach, butter, Velute sauce, salt, pepper, flour, stock.
Wash three pounds of spinach at least six times, boil it in a pint of water, then mince it up very fine, pass it through a hair-sieve, and put it in a saucepan with one and a half ounces of butter, add a cupful of reduced Velute sauce (No. 2) with cream, salt, and pepper, add a dessert-spoonful of flour and butter mixed, and boil until the spinach is firm enough to make into a shape, garnish with hardboiled eggs cut into quarters, and pour a good Espagnole sauce (No. 1) round the dish.
Wash three pounds of spinach at least six times, boil it in a pint of water, then chop it very finely, strain it through a fine sieve, and place it in a saucepan with one and a half ounces of butter. Add a cup of reduced Velute sauce (No. 2) mixed with cream, salt, and pepper, then add a spoonful of flour and butter mixed together, and cook until the spinach is firm enough to shape. Garnish with hardboiled eggs cut into quarters, and pour a good Espagnole sauce (No. 1) around the dish.
No. 178. Insalata di patate (Potato salad)
Ingredients: New potatoes, oil, white vinegar, onions, parsley, tarragon, chervil, celery, cream, salt, pepper, tarragon vinegar, watercress, cucumber, truffles.
Ingredients: New potatoes, oil, white vinegar, onions, parsley, tarragon, chervil, celery, cream, salt, pepper, tarragon vinegar, watercress, cucumber, truffles.
Steam as many new potatoes as you require until they are well cooked, let them get cold, cut them into slices and pour three teaspoonsful of salad oil and one of white vinegar over them. Then rub a salad bowl with onion, put in a layer of the potato slices, and sprinkle with chopped parsley, tarragon, chervil, and celery, then another layer of potatoes until you have used all the potatoes; cover them with whipped cream seasoned with salt, pepper, and a little tarragon vinegar, and garnish the top with watercress, a few thin slices of truffle cooked in white wine, and some slices of cooked cucumber.
Steam as many new potatoes as you need until they’re cooked through, let them cool, slice them up, and drizzle three teaspoons of salad oil and one of white vinegar over them. Then, rub a salad bowl with onion, add a layer of potato slices, and sprinkle with chopped parsley, tarragon, chervil, and celery, followed by another layer of potatoes until you've used them all. Top it off with whipped cream seasoned with salt, pepper, and a bit of tarragon vinegar, and garnish with watercress, a few thin slices of truffle cooked in white wine, and some slices of cooked cucumber.
No. 179. Insalata alla Navarino (Salad)
Ingredients: Peas, bean onions, potatoes, tarragon, chives, parsley, tomatoes, anchovies, oil, vinegar, ham.
Ingredients: Peas, green onions, potatoes, tarragon, chives, parsley, tomatoes, anchovies, oil, vinegar, ham.
Mix a tablespoonful of chopped parsley, a teaspoonful of chopped onion, a teaspoonful of tarragon and chopped chives with half a gill of oil and half a gill of vinegar. Put this into a salad bowl with all sorts of cooked vegetables: peas, haricot beans, small onions, and potatoes cut up, and mix them w ell but gently, so as not to break the vegetables. Then add two or three anchovies in oil, and on the top place three or four ripe tomatoes cut in slices. A little cooked smoked ham cut in dice added to this salad is a great improvement.
Mix a tablespoon of chopped parsley, a teaspoon of chopped onion, a teaspoon of tarragon, and chopped chives with half a cup of oil and half a cup of vinegar. Put this into a salad bowl with a variety of cooked vegetables: peas, green beans, small onions, and diced potatoes, and mix them well but gently, so as not to break the vegetables. Then add two or three anchovies in oil, and on top, place three or four ripe tomatoes sliced. A little cooked smoked ham diced and added to this salad is a great improvement.
No. 180. Insalata di pomidoro (Tomato Salad)
Ingredients: Tomatoes, mayonnaise, shallot, horseradish, gherkin, anchovies, fish, cucumber, lettuce, chervil, tarragon, eggs.
Ingredients: Tomatoes, mayonnaise, shallot, horseradish, gherkin, anchovies, fish, cucumber, lettuce, chervil, tarragon, eggs.
Mix the following ingredients: two anchovies in oil boned and minced, a gill of mayonnaise sauce, a little grated horseradish, very little chopped shallot, a little cold salmon or trout, and a small gherkin chopped. With this mixture stuff some ripe tomatoes. Then make a good salad of endive or lettuce, a teaspoonful of chopped tarragon and chervil, season it with oil, vinegar, salt, and pepper (the proportions should be three of oil to one of vinegar), put a layer of slices of cucumber in the salad, place the tomatoes on the top of these, and decorate them with hard-boiled eggs passed through a wire sieve.
Mix the following ingredients: two anchovies in oil, boned and minced, a cup of mayonnaise, a bit of grated horseradish, a small amount of chopped shallot, some cold salmon or trout, and a diced gherkin. Use this mixture to stuff some ripe tomatoes. Then prepare a nice salad with endive or lettuce, a teaspoon of chopped tarragon and chervil, and dress it with oil, vinegar, salt, and pepper (the ratio should be three parts oil to one part vinegar). Layer slices of cucumber in the salad, place the tomatoes on top, and garnish them with hard-boiled eggs that have been passed through a fine sieve.
No. 181. Tartufi alla Dino (Truffles)
Ingredients: Truffles, fowl forcemeat, champagne.
Allow one truffle for each person, scoop out the inside, chop it up fine and mix with a good forcemeat of fowl. With this fill up the truffles, place a thin layer of truffle on the top of each, and cook them in champagne in a stewpan for about half an hour. Then take them out, make a rich sauce, to which add the champagne you have used and some of the chopped truffle, put the truffles in this sauce and keep hot for ten minutes. Serve in paper souffle cases.
Take one truffle for each person, scoop out the insides, chop them finely, and mix with a good ground fowl mixture. Use this to fill the truffles, add a thin layer of truffle on top of each, and cook them in champagne in a saucepan for about half an hour. Then, take them out, make a rich sauce, adding the champagne you used and some of the chopped truffle. Place the truffles in this sauce and keep them warm for ten minutes. Serve in paper souffle cups.
Macaroni, Rice, Polenta, and Other Italian Pastes{*}
* Italian pastes of the best quality can be obtained at
Cosenza's, Wigmore Street, NW. For the following dishes,
tagliarelle and spaghetti are recommended.
* You can get top-quality Italian pasta at Cosenza's on Wigmore Street, NW. For the following dishes, tagliatelle and spaghetti are recommended.
No. 182. Macaroni with Tomatoes
Ingredients: Macaroni, tomatoes, butter, onion, basil, pepper, salt.
Fry half an onion slightly in butter, and as soon as it is coloured add a puree of two big cooked tomatoes. Then boil quarter of a pound of macaroni separately, drain it and put it in a deep fireproof dish, add the tomato puree and three tablespoonsful of grated Parmesan and Cheddar mixed, and cook gently for a quarter of an hour before serving. This dish may be made with vermicelli, spaghetti, or any other Italian paste.
Sauté half an onion in butter until it's slightly browned, then stir in a puree made from two large cooked tomatoes. Next, cook a quarter of a pound of macaroni separately, drain it, and place it in a deep oven-safe dish. Add the tomato puree and three tablespoons of a mix of grated Parmesan and Cheddar cheese, and cook gently for 15 minutes before serving. You can also make this dish with vermicelli, spaghetti, or any other type of pasta.
No. 183. Macaroni alla Casalinga
Ingredients: Macaroni, butter, stock, cheese, water, salt, nutmeg.
Cut up a quarter pound of macaroni in small pieces and put it in boiling salted water. When sufficiently cooked, drain and put it into a saucepan with two ounces of butter, add good gravy or stock, three tablespoonsful of grated Parmesan and Cheddar mixed, and a tiny pinch of nutmeg. Stir over a brisk fire, and serve very hot.
Cut a quarter pound of macaroni into small pieces and put it in boiling salted water. Once it's cooked, drain it and place it in a saucepan with two ounces of butter. Add some good gravy or stock, three tablespoons of mixed grated Parmesan and Cheddar, and a tiny pinch of nutmeg. Stir over a medium heat and serve very hot.
No. 184. Macaroni al Sughillo
Ingredients: Macaroni, stock, tomatoes, sausage, cheese.
Half cook four ounces of macaroni, drain it and put it in layers in a fireproof dish, and gradually add good beef gravy, four tablespoonsful of tomato puree, and thin slices of sausage. Sprinkle with grated Parmesan and Cheddar, and cook for about twenty minutes. Before serving pass the salamander over the top to brown the macaroni.
Cook four ounces of macaroni until it's halfway done, drain it, and layer it in a fireproof dish. Gradually add good beef gravy, four tablespoons of tomato puree, and thin slices of sausage. Sprinkle with grated Parmesan and Cheddar, and cook for about twenty minutes. Before serving, use a salamander to brown the macaroni on top.
No. 185. Macaroni alla Livornese
Ingredients: Macaroni, mushrooms, tomatoes, Parmesan, butter, pepper, salt, milk.
Ingredients: Macaroni, mushrooms, tomatoes, Parmesan cheese, butter, pepper, salt, milk.
Boil about four ounces of macaroni, and stew four or five mushrooms in milk with pepper and salt. Put a layer of the macaroni in a buttered fireproof dish, then a layer of tomato puree, then a layer of the mushrooms and another layer of macaroni. Dust it all over with grated Parmesan and Cheddar, put it in the oven for half an hour, and serve very hot.
Boil about four ounces of macaroni, and simmer four or five mushrooms in milk with pepper and salt. Place a layer of macaroni in a buttered oven-safe dish, then add a layer of tomato puree, followed by a layer of mushrooms and another layer of macaroni. Sprinkle the top with grated Parmesan and Cheddar, put it in the oven for half an hour, and serve very hot.
No. 186. Tagliarelle and Lobster
Ingredients: Tagliarelle, lobster, cheese, butter.
Boil half a pound of tagliarelle, and cut up a quarter of a pound of lobster. Butter a fireproof dish, and strew it well with grated Parmesan and Cheddar mixed, then put in the tagliarelle and lobster in layers, and between each layer add a little butter. Strew grated cheese over the top, put it in the oven for twenty minutes, and brown the top with a salamander.
Boil half a pound of tagliatelle and chop up a quarter of a pound of lobster. Butter a fireproof dish and generously sprinkle it with a mix of grated Parmesan and Cheddar. Then layer the tagliatelle and lobster, adding a bit of butter between each layer. Sprinkle grated cheese on top, place it in the oven for twenty minutes, and then use a salamander to brown the top.
No. 187. Polenta
Polenta is made of ground Indian-corn, and may be used either as a separate dish or as a garnish for roast meat, pigeons, fowl, &c. It is made like porridge; gradually drop the meal with one hand into boiling stock or water, and stir continually with a wooden spoon with the other hand. In about a quarter of an hour it will be quite thick and smooth, then add a little butter and grated Parmesan, and one egg beaten up. Let it get cold, then put it in layers in a baking-dish, add a little butter to each layer, sprinkle with plenty of Parmesan, and bake it for about an hour in a slow oven. Serve hot.
Polenta is made from ground corn and can be used either as a standalone dish or as a side for roasted meats, pigeons, poultry, etc. It's made like porridge; slowly sprinkle the cornmeal into boiling broth or water with one hand while stirring continuously with a wooden spoon in the other. After about 15 minutes, it will be thick and smooth. Then, mix in a little butter, grated Parmesan, and one beaten egg. Let it cool, then layer it in a baking dish, adding a bit of butter to each layer and sprinkling plenty of Parmesan on top. Bake it in a slow oven for about an hour. Serve hot.
No. 188. Polenta Pasticciata
Ingredients: Polenta, butter, cheese, mushrooms, tomatoes.
Prepare a good polenta as above, put it in layers in a fireproof dish, and add by degrees one and a half ounces of melted butter, two cooked mushrooms cut up, and two tablespoonsful of grated cheese. (If you like, you may add a good-sized tomato mashed up.) Put the dish in the oven, and before serving brown it over with salamander.
Prepare a good polenta as mentioned above, layer it in a heatproof dish, and gradually add one and a half ounces of melted butter, two cooked mushrooms chopped up, and two tablespoons of grated cheese. (If you prefer, you can add a large mashed tomato.) Place the dish in the oven, and before serving, brown the top with a salamander.
No. 189. Battuffoli
Ingredients: Polenta, onion, butter, salt, stock, Parmesan.
Make a somewhat firm polenta (No. 187) with half a pound of ground maize and a pint and a half of salted water, add a small onion cut up and fried in butter, and stir the polenta until it is sufficiently cooked. Then take it off the fire and arrange it by spoonsful in a large fireproof dish, and give each spoonful the shape and size of an egg. Place them one against the other, and when the first layer is done, pour over it some very good gravy or stock, and plenty of grated Parmesan. Arrange it thus layer by layer. Put it into the oven for twenty minutes, and serve very hot.
Make a fairly firm polenta (No. 187) using half a pound of cornmeal and a pint and a half of salted water. Add a small onion that’s been chopped and sautéed in butter, and stir the polenta until it’s cooked through. Then, take it off the heat and spoon it into a large ovenproof dish, shaping each spoonful like an egg. Place them next to each other, and once the first layer is complete, pour some really good gravy or stock over it, along with plenty of grated Parmesan. Layer it this way. Bake it in the oven for twenty minutes and serve very hot.
No. 190. Risotto all'Italiana
Ingredients: Rice, an onion, butter, stock, tomatoes, cheese.
Fry a small onion slightly in butter, then add half a pint of very good stock. Boil four ounces of rice, but do not let it get pulpy, add it to the above with three medium-sized tomatoes in a puree. Mix it all up well, add more stock, and two tablespoonsful of grated Parmesan and Cheddar mixed, and serve hot.
Sauté a small onion in butter until it's slightly soft, then pour in half a pint of high-quality stock. Cook four ounces of rice, making sure it doesn't turn mushy, then add it to the mixture along with a puree of three medium-sized tomatoes. Stir everything together well, add more stock, and mix in two tablespoons of grated Parmesan and Cheddar cheese. Serve hot.
No. 191. Risotto alla Genovese
Ingredients: Rice, beef or veal, onions, parsley, butter, stock, Parmesan, sweetbread or sheep's brains.
Ingredients: Rice, beef or veal, onions, parsley, butter, broth, Parmesan, sweetbreads or sheep's brains.
Cut up a small onion and fry it slightly in butter with some chopped parsley, add to this a little veal, also chopped up, and a little suet. Cook for ten minutes and then add two ounces of rice to it. Mix all with a wooden spoon, and after a few minutes begin to add boiling stock gradually; stir with the spoon, so that the rice whilst cooking may absorb the stock; when it is half cooked add a few spoonsful of good gravy and a sweetbread or sheep's brains (previously scalded and cut up in pieces), and, if you like, a little powdered saffron dissolved in a spoonful of stock and three tablespoonsful of grated Parmesan and Cheddar mixed. Stir well until the rice is quite cooked, but take care not to get it into a pulp.
Chop a small onion and lightly sauté it in butter with some chopped parsley. Add a little chopped veal and a bit of suet. Cook for ten minutes, then add two ounces of rice. Mix everything with a wooden spoon, and after a few minutes, gradually add boiling stock while stirring with the spoon so that the rice absorbs the stock as it cooks. When the rice is half-cooked, add a few spoonfuls of good gravy and some sweetbread or sheep's brains (previously scalded and chopped into pieces). If you want, you can also add a little powdered saffron dissolved in a spoonful of stock and three tablespoons of grated Parmesan and Cheddar mixed. Stir well until the rice is fully cooked, but be careful not to turn it into mush.
No. 192. Risotto alla Spagnuola
Ingredients: Rice, pork, ham, onions, tomatoes, butter, stock, vegetables, Parmesan.
Ingredients: Rice, pork, ham, onions, tomatoes, butter, broth, veggies, Parmesan.
Put a small bit of onion and an ounce of butter into a saucepan, add half a pound of tomatoes cut up and fry for a few minutes. Then put in some bits of loin of pork cut into dice and some bits of lean ham. After a time add four ounces of rice and good stock, and as soon as it begins to boil put on the cover and put the saucepan on a moderate fire. When the rice is half cooked add any sort of vegetable, by preference peas, asparagus cut up, beans, and cucumber cut up, cook for another quarter of an hour, and serve with grated Parmesan and Cheddar mixed and good gravy.
Put a small amount of onion and an ounce of butter in a saucepan, add half a pound of chopped tomatoes, and fry for a few minutes. Then add diced pieces of pork loin and some lean ham. After a while, add four ounces of rice and good stock, and as soon as it starts to boil, cover it and place the saucepan over moderate heat. When the rice is halfway cooked, add any kind of vegetable, preferably peas, chopped asparagus, beans, and chopped cucumber. Cook for another fifteen minutes, and serve with a mix of grated Parmesan and Cheddar cheese and good gravy.
No. 193. Risotto alla Capuccina
Ingredients: Risotto (No. 190) eggs, truffles, smoked tongue, butter.
Make a good risotto, and when cooked put it into a fireproof dish. When cold cut into shapes with a dariole mould and fry for a few minutes in butter, then turn the darioles out, scoop out a little of each and fill it with eggs beaten up, cover each with a slice of truffle and garnish with a little chopped tongue. Put them in the oven for ten minutes.
Make a good risotto, and when it’s cooked, transfer it to a fireproof dish. Once it's cool, cut it into shapes with a dariole mold and fry for a few minutes in butter. Then, turn out the darioles, scoop out a little from each, and fill them with beaten eggs. Top each one with a slice of truffle and garnish with a bit of chopped tongue. Bake them in the oven for ten minutes.
No. 194. Risotto alla Parigina
Ingredients: Risotto (No. 190), game, sauce, butter.
Make a good risotto, and when cooked pour it into a fireproof dish, let it get cold, and then cut it out with a dariole mould, or else form it into little balls about the size of a pigeon's egg. Fry these in butter and serve with a rich game sauce poured over them.
Make a good risotto, and when it’s cooked, pour it into a fireproof dish. Let it cool, then cut it out with a dariole mold, or shape it into small balls about the size of a pigeon’s egg. Fry these in butter and serve them with a rich game sauce drizzled over them.
No. 195. Ravioli
Ingredients: Flour, eggs, butter, salt, forcemeat, Parmesan, gravy or stock.
Ingredients: Flour, eggs, butter, salt, ground meat, Parmesan, gravy or stock.
Make a paste with a quarter pound of flour, the yolk of two eggs, a little salt and two ounces of butter. Knead this into a firm smooth paste and wrap it up in a damp cloth for half an hour, then roll it out as thin as possible, moisten it with a paste-brush dipped in water, and cut it into circular pieces about three inches in diameter. On each piece put about a teaspoonful of forcemeat of fowl, game, or fish mixed with a little grated Parmesan and the yolks of one or two eggs. Fold the paste over the forcemeat and pinch the edges together, so as to give them the shape of little puffs; let them dry in the larder, then blanch by boiling them in stock for quarter of an hour and drain them in a napkin. Butter a fireproof dish, put in a layer of the ravioli, powder them over with grated Parmesan, then another layer of ravioli and more Parmesan. Then add enough very good gravy to cover them, put the dish in the oven for about twenty-five minutes, and serve in the dish.
Make a paste with a quarter pound of flour, the yolk of two eggs, a little salt, and two ounces of butter. Knead this into a firm, smooth paste and wrap it in a damp cloth for half an hour. Then roll it out as thin as possible, moisten it with a brush dipped in water, and cut it into circular pieces about three inches in diameter. On each piece, place about a teaspoon of minced meat of chicken, game, or fish mixed with a little grated Parmesan and the yolks of one or two eggs. Fold the paste over the filling and pinch the edges together to shape them like little puffs. Let them dry in the fridge, then blanch them by boiling in stock for fifteen minutes and drain them in a towel. Grease a fireproof dish, add a layer of ravioli, sprinkle them with grated Parmesan, then add another layer of ravioli and more Parmesan. Pour enough good gravy over them to cover, place the dish in the oven for about twenty-five minutes, and serve right in the dish.
No. 196. Ravioli alla Fiorentina
Ingredients: Beetroot, eggs, Parmesan, milk or cream, nutmeg, spices, salt, flour, gravy.
Ingredients: Beetroot, eggs, Parmesan cheese, milk or cream, nutmeg, spices, salt, flour, gravy.
Wash a beetroot and boil it, and when it is sufficiently cooked throw it into cold water for a few minutes, then drain it, chop it up and add to it four eggs, one ounce of grated Parmesan, one ounce of grated Cheddar, two and a half ounces of boiled cream or milk, a small pinch of nutmeg and a little salt. Mix all well together into a smooth firm paste, then roll into balls about the size of a walnut, flour them over well, let them dry for half an hour, then drop them very carefully one by one into boiling stock and when they float on the top take them out with a perforated ladle, put them in a deep dish, dust them over with Parmesan and pour good meat or game gravy over them.
Wash a beetroot and boil it. Once it’s cooked, throw it into cold water for a few minutes. Drain it, chop it up, and then mix in four eggs, one ounce of grated Parmesan, one ounce of grated Cheddar, two and a half ounces of boiled cream or milk, a small pinch of nutmeg, and a little salt. Combine everything well into a smooth, firm paste, then roll it into balls about the size of a walnut. Coat them well in flour and let them dry for half an hour. Then, drop each ball carefully into boiling stock, and when they float to the top, remove them with a slotted spoon. Place them in a deep dish, sprinkle with Parmesan, and pour good meat or game gravy over them.
No. 197. Gnocchi alla Romana
Ingredients: Semolina, butter, Parmesan, eggs, nutmeg, milk, cream.
Boil half a pint of milk in a saucepan, then add two ounces of butter, four ounces of semolina, two tablespoonsful of grated Parmesan, the yolks of three eggs, and a tiny pinch of nutmeg. Mix all well together, then let it cool, and spread out the paste so that it is about the thickness of a finger. Put a little butter and grated Parmesan and two tablespoonsful of cream in a fireproof dish, cut out the semolina paste with a small dariole mould and put it in the dish. Dust a little more Parmesan over it, put it in the oven for five minutes and serve in the dish.
Boil half a pint of milk in a saucepan, then add two ounces of butter, four ounces of semolina, two tablespoons of grated Parmesan, the yolks of three eggs, and a pinch of nutmeg. Mix everything well, let it cool, and spread the mixture out to about the thickness of a finger. Put a little butter, grated Parmesan, and two tablespoons of cream in a heatproof dish, cut out the semolina mixture with a small dariole mold, and place it in the dish. Sprinkle a little more Parmesan on top, put it in the oven for five minutes, and serve it in the dish.
No. 198. Gnocchi alla Lombarda
Ingredients: Potatoes, flour, salt, Parmesan and Gruyere cheese, butter, milk, eggs.
Ingredients: Potatoes, flour, salt, Parmesan cheese, Gruyere cheese, butter, milk, eggs.
Boil two or three big potatoes, and pass them through a hair sieve, mix in two tablespoonsful of flour, an egg beaten up, and enough milk to form a rather firm paste; stir until it is quite smooth. Roll it into the shape of a German sausage, cut it into rounds about three quarters of an inch thick, and put it into the larder to dry for about half an hour. Then drop the gnocchi one by one into boiling salted water and boil for ten minutes. Take them out with a slice, and put them in a well-buttered fireproof dish, add butter between each layer, and strew plenty of grated Parmesan and Cheddar over them. Put them in the oven for ten minutes, brown the top with a salamander, and serve very hot.
Boil two or three large potatoes and push them through a fine sieve. Mix in two tablespoons of flour, a beaten egg, and enough milk to create a fairly firm paste; stir until it's completely smooth. Shape it into a log similar to a German sausage, cut it into pieces about three-quarters of an inch thick, and leave them in the fridge to dry for about half an hour. Then, drop the gnocchi one by one into boiling salted water and cook for ten minutes. Remove them with a slotted spoon and place them in a well-buttered oven-safe dish, adding butter between each layer and sprinkling a generous amount of grated Parmesan and Cheddar on top. Bake them in the oven for ten minutes, brown the top with a broiler, and serve very hot.
No. 199. Frittata di Riso (Savoury Rice Pancake)
Ingredients: Rice, milk, salt, butter, cinnamon, eggs, Parmesan.
Boil quarter of a pound of rice in milk until it is quite soft and pulpy, drain off the milk and add to the rice an ounce of butter, two tablespoonsful of grated Parmesan, and a pinch of cinnamon, and when it has got rather cold, the yolks of four eggs beaten up. Mix all well together, and with this make a pancake with butter in a frying pan.
Boil a quarter of a pound of rice in milk until it's soft and mushy. Drain the milk, then add an ounce of butter, two tablespoons of grated Parmesan, and a pinch of cinnamon to the rice. Once it cools down a bit, mix in the yolks of four beaten eggs. Combine everything thoroughly and use this mixture to make a pancake in a frying pan with some butter.
Omelettes And Other Egg Dishes
No. 200. Uova al Tartufi (Eggs with Truffles)
Ingredients: Eggs, butter, cream, truffles, Velute sauce, croutons.
Beat up six eggs, pass them through a sieve, and put them into a saucepan with two ounces of butter and two tablespoonsful of cream. Put the saucepan in a bain-marie, and stir so that the eggs may not adhere. Sautez some slices of truffle in butter, cover them with Velute sauce (No. 2) and a glass of Marsala, and add them to the eggs. Serve very hot with fried and glazed croutons. Instead of truffles you can use asparagus tips, peas, or cooked ham.
Whisk six eggs, strain them through a sieve, and pour them into a saucepan with two ounces of butter and two tablespoons of cream. Place the saucepan in a bain-marie and stir so that the eggs don’t stick. Sauté some sliced truffles in butter, cover them with Velouté sauce (No. 2) and a glass of Marsala, then mix them into the eggs. Serve very hot with fried and glazed croutons. Instead of truffles, you can use asparagus tips, peas, or cooked ham.
No. 201. Uova al Pomidoro (Eggs and Tomatoes)
Ingredients: Eggs, salt, tomatoes, onion, parsley, butter, pepper.
Cut up three or four tomatoes, and put them into a stewpan with a piece of butter the size of a walnut and a clove of garlic with a cut in it. Put the lid on the stewpan and cook till quite soft, then take out the garlic, strain the tomatoes through a fine strainer into a bain-marie, beat up two eggs and add them to the tomatoes, and stir till quite thick, then put in two tablespoonsful of grated cheese, and serve on toast.
Chop up three or four tomatoes and add them to a saucepan with a piece of butter the size of a walnut and a clove of garlic that’s been sliced. Cover the saucepan and cook until everything is very soft, then remove the garlic. Strain the tomatoes through a fine strainer into a double boiler, beat two eggs, and mix them into the tomatoes, stirring until it thickens. Finally, add two tablespoons of grated cheese and serve it on toast.
No. 202. Uova ripiene (Canapes of Egg)
Ingredients: Eggs, butter, salt, pepper, nutmeg, cheese, parsley, mushrooms, Bechamel and Espagnole sauce, stock.
Ingredients: Eggs, butter, salt, pepper, nutmeg, cheese, parsley, mushrooms, Bechamel sauce, Espagnole sauce, stock.
Boil as many eggs as you want hard, and cut them in half lengthwise; take out the yolks and mix them with some fresh butter, salt, pepper, very little nutmeg, grated cheese, a little chopped parsley, and cooked mushrooms also chopped. Then mix two tablespoonsful of good Bechamel sauce (No. 3) with the raw yolk of one or two eggs and add it to the rest. Put all in a saucepan with an ounce of butter and good stock, then fill up the white halves with the mixture, giving them a good shape; heat them in a bain-marie, and serve with a very good clear Espagnole sauce (No. 1).
Boil as many eggs as you want hard, and cut them in half lengthwise; take out the yolks and mix them with some fresh butter, salt, pepper, just a pinch of nutmeg, grated cheese, a bit of chopped parsley, and some chopped cooked mushrooms. Then mix two tablespoons of good Bechamel sauce (No. 3) with the raw yolk of one or two eggs and add it to the rest. Put everything in a saucepan with an ounce of butter and some good stock, then fill the white halves with the mixture, shaping them nicely; heat them in a bain-marie, and serve with a very good clear Espagnole sauce (No. 1).
No. 203. Uova alla Fiorentina (Eggs)
Ingredients: Eggs, butter, Parmesan, cream, flour, salt, pepper, curds.
Boil as many eggs as you require hard, then cut them in half and take out the yolks and pound them in a mortar with equal quantities of butter and curds, a tablespoonful of grated Parmesan, salt and pepper. Put this in a saucepan and add the yolks of eight eggs and the white of one (this is for twelve people), mix all well together and reduce a little. With this mixture fill the hard whites of the eggs and spread the rest of the sauce on the bottom of the dish, and on this place the whites. Then in another saucepan mix half a gill of cream and an ounce of butter, a dessert-spoonful of flour, salt, and pepper; let this boil for a minute, and then glaze over the eggs in the dish with it, and on the top of each egg put a little bit of butter, and over all a powdering of grated cheese. Put this in the oven, pass the salamander over the top, and when the cheese is coloured serve at once.
Boil as many eggs as you need until they're hard, then cut them in half and remove the yolks. Mash the yolks in a bowl with equal amounts of butter and cheese, a tablespoon of grated Parmesan, salt, and pepper. Transfer this to a saucepan and add the yolks of eight eggs and the white of one (this is for twelve people). Mix everything well and let it reduce a bit. Use this mixture to fill the hard egg whites, then spread the remaining sauce on the bottom of a dish and place the filled whites on top. In another saucepan, mix half a cup of cream and an ounce of butter, a dessert spoon of flour, salt, and pepper; bring this to a boil for a minute, then pour it over the eggs in the dish. Top each egg with a small piece of butter and sprinkle everything with grated cheese. Place this in the oven, broil the top until the cheese is browned, and serve immediately.
No. 204. Uova in fili (Egg Canapes)
Ingredients: Eggs, butter, mushrooms, onions, flour, white wine, fish or meat stock, salt, pepper, croutons of bread.
Ingredients: Eggs, butter, mushrooms, onions, flour, white wine, fish or meat broth, salt, pepper, and bread croutons.
Put into a saucepan two ounces of butter, three large fresh mushrooms cut into slices, and an onion cut up, fry them slightly, and when the onion begins to colour add a spoonful of flour, a quarter of a glass of Chablis, salt and pepper, and occasionally add a spoonful of either fish or meat stock. Let this simmer for half an hour, so as to reduce it to a thick sauce. Then boil as many eggs as you want hard; take out the yolks, but keep them whole. Cut up the whites into slices, and add them to the above sauce, pour the sauce into a dish, and on the top of it place the whole yolks of egg, each on a crouton of bread.
In a saucepan, melt two ounces of butter, then add three large fresh mushrooms sliced and a chopped onion. Sauté them lightly, and when the onion starts to brown, stir in a spoonful of flour, a quarter glass of Chablis, salt, and pepper. Occasionally add a spoonful of either fish or meat stock. Let this simmer for half an hour until it reduces to a thick sauce. Next, hard boil as many eggs as you need; remove the yolks but keep them whole. Slice the egg whites and add them to the sauce. Pour the sauce into a dish and place the whole egg yolks on top, each on a crouton of bread.
No. 205. Frittata di funghi (Mushroom Omelette)
Ingredients: Mushrooms, butter, eggs, bread crumbs, Parmesan, marjoram, garlic.
Ingredients: Mushrooms, butter, eggs, breadcrumbs, Parmesan cheese, marjoram, garlic.
Clean four or five mushrooms, cut them up, and put them into a frying-pan with one and a half ounces of butter, a clove of garlic with two cuts in it, and a little salt; fry them lightly till the mushrooms are nearly cooked, and then take out the garlic. In the meantime beat up separately the yolks and the whites of two or three eggs, add a little crumb of bread soaked in water, a tablespoonful of grated Parmesan, and two leaves of marjoram; go on beating all up until the crumb of bread has become entirely absorbed by the eggs, then pour this mixture into the frying-pan with the mushrooms, mix all well together and make an omelette in the usual way.
Clean four or five mushrooms, chop them up, and put them in a frying pan with one and a half ounces of butter, a clove of garlic with two slits in it, and a bit of salt; fry them lightly until the mushrooms are almost cooked, and then remove the garlic. Meanwhile, beat the yolks and whites of two or three eggs separately, add a small piece of bread soaked in water, a tablespoon of grated Parmesan, and two leaves of marjoram; keep beating until the bread is completely absorbed by the eggs, then pour this mixture into the frying pan with the mushrooms, mix everything well, and make an omelette as usual.
No. 206. Frittata con Pomidoro (Tomato Omelette)
Ingredients: Eggs, tomatoes, butter, marjoram, parsley, spice.
Peel two tomatoes and take out the seeds; then mix them with an ounce of butter, chopped marjoram, parsley, and a tiny pinch of spice. Add three eggs beaten up (the yolks and whites separately), and make an omelette.
Peel two tomatoes and remove the seeds; then mix them with an ounce of butter, chopped marjoram, parsley, and a small pinch of spice. Add three eggs beaten separately (the yolks and whites), and make an omelet.
No. 207. Frittata con Asparagi (Asparagus Omelette)
Ingredients: Eggs, asparagus, butter, ham, herbs, cheese.
Blanch a dozen heads of asparagus and cook them slightly, then cut them up and mix with two ounces of butter, bits of cut-up ham, herbs, and a tablespoonful of grated Parmesan. Add them to three beaten-up eggs and make an omelette.
Blanch a dozen heads of asparagus and cook them just a bit, then chop them up and mix with two ounces of butter, pieces of chopped ham, herbs, and a tablespoon of grated Parmesan. Add this to three beaten eggs and make an omelette.
No. 208. Frittata con erbe (Omelette with Herbs)
Ingredients: Eggs, onions, sorrel, mint, parsley, asparagus, marjoram, salt, pepper, butter.
Ingredients: Eggs, onions, sorrel, mint, parsley, asparagus, marjoram, salt, pepper, butter.
Chop a little sorrel, a small bit of onion, mint, parsley, marjoram, and fry in two ounces of butter, add some cut-up asparagus, salt, and pepper. Then add three eggs beaten up and a little grated cheese, and make your omelette.
Chop some sorrel, a small onion, mint, parsley, marjoram, and fry them in two ounces of butter. Add some chopped asparagus, salt, and pepper. Then stir in three beaten eggs and a bit of grated cheese, and cook your omelette.
No. 209. Frittata Montata (Omelette Souffle)
Ingredients: Eggs, Parmesan, pepper, parsley.
Beat up the whites of three eggs to a froth and the yolks separately with a tablespoonful of grated Parmesan, chopped parsley, and a little pepper. Then mix them and make a light omelette.
Beat the whites of three eggs until frothy and mix the yolks separately with a tablespoon of grated Parmesan, chopped parsley, and a little pepper. Then combine them to create a light omelet.
No. 210. Frittata di Prosciutto (Ham Omelette)
Ingredients: Eggs, ham, Parmesan, mint, pepper, clotted cream.
Beat up three eggs and add to them two tablespoonsful of clotted cream, one tablespoonful of chopped ham, one of grated Parmesan, chopped mint and a little pepper, and make the omelette in the usual way.
Beat three eggs and add two tablespoons of clotted cream, one tablespoon of chopped ham, one of grated Parmesan, chopped mint, and a little pepper. Make the omelette the usual way.
Sweets and Cakes
No. 211. Bodino of Semolina
Ingredients: Semolina, milk, eggs, castor sugar, lemon, sultanas, rum, butter, cream, or Zabajone (No. 222).
Ingredients: Semolina, milk, eggs, caster sugar, lemon, sultanas, rum, butter, cream, or Zabaglione (No. 222).
Boil one and a half pints of milk with four ounces of castor sugar, and gradually add five ounces of semolina, boil for a quarter of an hour more and stir continually with a wooden spoon, then take the saucepan off the fire, and when it is cooled a little, add the yolks of six and the whites of two eggs well beaten up, a little grated lemon peel, three-quarters of an ounce of sultanas and two small glasses of rum. Mix well, so as to get it very smooth, pour it into a buttered mould and serve either hot or cold. If cold, put whipped cream flavoured with stick vanilla round the dish; if hot, a Zabajone (No. 222).
Boil one and a half pints of milk with four ounces of caster sugar, then gradually add five ounces of semolina. Boil for another fifteen minutes while stirring continuously with a wooden spoon. Remove the saucepan from the heat, and once it's cooled slightly, add the beaten yolks of six eggs and the beaten whites of two eggs, a bit of grated lemon peel, three-quarters of an ounce of sultanas, and two small glasses of rum. Mix everything well until it’s very smooth, then pour it into a buttered mold and serve it either hot or cold. If serving cold, add whipped cream flavored with vanilla around the dish; if serving hot, accompany it with a Zabajone (No. 222).
No. 212. Crema rappresa (Coffee Cream)
Ingredients: Coffee, cream, eggs, sugar, butter.
Bruise five ounces of freshly roasted Mocha coffee, and add it to three-quarters of a pint of boiling cream; cover the saucepan, let it simmer for twenty minutes, then pass through a bit of fine muslin. In the meantime mix the yolks of ten eggs and two whole eggs with eight ounces of castor sugar and a glass of cream; add the coffee cream to this and pass the whole through a fine sieve into a buttered mould. Steam in a bain-marie for rather more than an hour, but do not let the water boil; then put the cream on ice for about an hour, and before serving turn it out on a dish and pour some cream flavoured with stick vanilla round it.
Bruise five ounces of freshly roasted Mocha coffee and add it to three-quarters of a pint of boiling cream. Cover the saucepan and let it simmer for twenty minutes, then strain through a fine muslin cloth. Meanwhile, mix the yolks of ten eggs and two whole eggs with eight ounces of caster sugar and a cup of cream. Add the coffee cream to this mixture and strain everything through a fine sieve into a buttered mold. Steam in a bain-marie for just over an hour, but make sure the water doesn’t boil. After that, cool the cream in the fridge for about an hour. Before serving, turn it out onto a dish and pour some cream flavored with vanilla around it.
No. 213. Crema Montata alle Fragole (Strawberry Cream)
Ingredients: Cream, castor sugar, Maraschino, strawberries or strawberry jam.
Ingredients: Cream, caster sugar, Maraschino liqueur, strawberries or strawberry jam.
Put a pint of cream on ice, and after two hours whip it up. Pass three tablespoonsful of strawberry jam through a sieve and add two tablespoonsful of Maraschino; mix this with the cream and build it up into a pyramid. Garnish with meringue biscuits and serve quickly. You may use fresh strawberries when in season, but then add castor sugar to taste.
Put a pint of cream on ice, and after two hours whip it up. Pass three tablespoons of strawberry jam through a sieve and add two tablespoons of Maraschino; mix this with the cream and shape it into a pyramid. Garnish with meringue cookies and serve right away. You can use fresh strawberries when they're in season, but be sure to add caster sugar to taste.
No. 214. Croccante di Mandorle (Cream Nougat)
Ingredients: Almonds, sugar, lemon juice, butter, castor sugar, pistachios, preserved fruits.
Ingredients: Almonds, sugar, lemon juice, butter, powdered sugar, pistachios, candied fruits.
Blanch half a pound of almonds, cut them into shreds and dry them in a slow oven until they are a light brown colour; then put a quarter pound of lump sugar into a saucepan and caramel it lightly; stir well with a wooden spoon. When the sugar is dissolved, throw the hot almonds into it and also a little lemon juice. Take the saucepan off the fire and mix the almonds with the sugar, pour it into a buttered mould and press it against the sides of the mould with a lemon, but remember that the casing of sugar must be very thin. (You may, if you like, spread out the mixture on a flat dish and line the mould with your hands, but the sugar must be kept hot.) Then take it out of the mould and decorate it with castor sugar, pistacchio nuts, and preserved fruits. Fill this case with whipped cream and preserved fruits or fresh strawberries.
Blanch half a pound of almonds, chop them into small pieces, and dry them in a low oven until they turn a light brown color. Next, put a quarter pound of lump sugar in a saucepan and caramelize it lightly, stirring well with a wooden spoon. Once the sugar has melted, add the hot almonds and a little lemon juice. Remove the saucepan from the heat and mix the almonds with the sugar, then pour it into a buttered mold and press it against the sides of the mold with a lemon, but keep in mind that the sugar coating should be very thin. (If you prefer, you can spread the mixture on a flat plate and shape the mold with your hands, but the sugar should stay hot.) After that, remove it from the mold and decorate it with powdered sugar, pistachio nuts, and preserved fruits. Fill this base with whipped cream and either preserved fruits or fresh strawberries.
No. 215. Crema tartara alla Caramella (Caramel Cream)
Ingredients: Cream, eggs, caramel sugar, vanilla or lemon flavouring.
Boil a pint of cream and give it any flavour you like. When cold, add the yolks of eight eggs and two tablespoonsful of castor sugar, mix well and pass it through a sieve; then burn some sugar to a caramel, line a smooth mould with it and pour the cream into it. Boil in a bain-marie for an hour and serve hot or cold.
Boil a pint of cream and add any flavor you want. Once it’s cool, mix in the yolks of eight eggs and two tablespoons of castor sugar, then strain it through a sieve. Next, caramelize some sugar, coat a smooth mold with it, and pour the cream mixture inside. Cook it in a bain-marie for an hour and serve it hot or cold.
No. 216. Cremona Cake
Ingredients: Ground rice, ground maize, sugar, one orange, eggs, salt, cream, Maraschino, almonds, preserved cherries.
Ingredients: Ground rice, ground corn, sugar, one orange, eggs, salt, cream, Maraschino, almonds, preserved cherries.
Weigh three eggs, and take equal quantities of castor sugar, butter, ground rice and maize (the last two together); make a light paste with them, but only use one whole egg and the yolks of the two others, add the scraped peel of an orange and a pinch of salt. Roll this paste out to the thickness of a five-shilling piece, colour it with the yolk of an egg and bake it in a cake tin in a hot oven until it is a good colour, then take it out and cut it into four equal circular pieces. Have ready some well-whipped cream and flavour it with Maraschino, put a thick layer of this on one of the rounds of pastry, then cover it with: the next round, on which also put a layer of cream, and so on until you come to the last round, which forms the top of the cake. Then split some almonds and colour them in the oven, cover the top of the cake with icing sugar flavoured with orange, and decorate the top with the almonds and preserved cherries.
Weigh three eggs and take equal amounts of caster sugar, butter, ground rice, and cornmeal (the last two combined); make a light dough with them, but only use one whole egg and the yolks of the other two. Add the grated peel of an orange and a pinch of salt. Roll this dough out to the thickness of a five-shilling coin, brush it with the yolk of an egg, and bake it in a cake tin in a hot oven until it gets a nice color. Then take it out and cut it into four equal circular pieces. Prepare some well-whipped cream and flavor it with Maraschino, then spread a thick layer of this on one of the pastry rounds, and cover it with the next round. Repeat this with a layer of cream on each round until you reach the last round, which will be the top of the cake. Next, slice some almonds and toast them in the oven, cover the top of the cake with icing sugar flavored with orange, and decorate with the almonds and preserved cherries.
No. 217. Cake alla Tolentina
Ingredients: Sponge-cake, jam, brandy or Maraschino, cream, pine-apple.
Make a medium-sized sponge-cake; when cold cut off the top and scoop out all the middle and leave only the brown case; cover the outside with a good coating of jam or red currant jelly, and decorate it with some of the white of the cake cut into fancy shapes. Soak the rest of the crumb in brandy or Maraschino and mix it with quarter of a pint of whipped cream and bits of pineapple cut into small dice; fill the cake with this; pile it up high in the centre and decorate the top with the brown top cut into fancy shapes.
Make a medium-sized sponge cake. Once it's cool, cut off the top and scoop out all the inside, leaving just the brown shell. Coat the outside with a good layer of jam or red currant jelly, and decorate it with some of the white cake that's been cut into fancy shapes. Soak the remaining crumbs in brandy or Maraschino, then mix them with a quarter of a pint of whipped cream and small diced pieces of pineapple. Fill the cake with this mixture, mound it up high in the center, and decorate the top with the brown top cut into fancy shapes.
No. 218. Riso all'Imperatrice
Ingredients: Rice, sugar, milk, ice, preserved fruits, blanc-mange, Maraschino, cream.
Ingredients: Rice, sugar, milk, ice, preserved fruits, pudding, Maraschino cherries, cream.
Boil two dessert-spoonsful of rice and one of sugar in milk. When sufficiently boiled, drain the rice and let it get cold. In the meantime place a mould on ice, and decorate it with slices of preserved fruit, and fix them to the mould with just enough nearly cold dissolved isinglass to keep them in place. Also put half a pint of blanc-mange on the ice, and stir it till it is the right consistency, gradually add the boiled rice, half a glass of Maraschino, some bits of pineapple cut in dice, and last of all half a pint of whipped cream. Fill the mould with this, and when it is sufficiently cold, turn it out and serve with a garnish of glace fruits or a few brandy cherries.
Boil two tablespoons of rice and one tablespoon of sugar in milk. Once it's cooked, drain the rice and let it cool. Meanwhile, place a mold on ice and decorate it with slices of preserved fruit, securing them to the mold with just enough nearly cold dissolved gelatin to keep them in place. Also, put half a pint of blancmange on the ice and stir it until it reaches the right consistency. Gradually add the boiled rice, half a glass of Maraschino, some diced pineapple, and finally, half a pint of whipped cream. Fill the mold with this mixture, and once it's cold enough, turn it out and serve it with a garnish of candied fruits or a few brandy cherries.
No. 219. Amaretti leggieri (Almond Cakes)
Ingredients: Almonds (sweet and bitter), eggs, castor sugar.
Blanch equal quantities of sweet and bitter almonds, and dry them a little in the oven, then pound them in a mortar, and add nearly double their quantity of castor sugar. Mix with the white of an egg well beaten up into a snow, and shape into little balls about the size of a pigeon's egg. Put them on a piece of stout white paper, and bake them in a very slow oven. They should be very light and delicate in flavour.
Blanch equal amounts of sweet and bitter almonds, then dry them a bit in the oven. Next, grind them in a mortar and add almost double their weight in caster sugar. Combine this with a well-beaten egg white whipped until frothy, and shape the mixture into small balls about the size of a pigeon’s egg. Place them on a sturdy piece of white paper and bake them in a very low oven. They should be light and delicately flavored.
No. 220. Cakes alla Livornese
Ingredients: Almonds, eggs, sugar, salt, potato flour, butter.
Pound two ounces of almonds, and mix them with the yolks of two eggs and a spoonful of castor sugar flavoured with orange juice. Then mix two ounces of sugar with an egg, and to this add the almonds, a pinch of salt, and gradually strew in one and a half ounces of potato flour. When it is all well mixed, add one ounce of melted butter, shape the cakes and bake them in a slow oven.
Pound two ounces of almonds and mix them with the yolks of two eggs and a spoonful of castor sugar flavored with orange juice. Then mix two ounces of sugar with an egg, and add the almonds, a pinch of salt, and gradually stir in one and a half ounces of potato flour. Once everything is well combined, add one ounce of melted butter, shape the cakes, and bake them in a slow oven.
No. 221. Genoese Pastry
Ingredients: Eggs, sugar, butter, flour, almonds, orange or lemon, brandy.
Ingredients: Eggs, sugar, butter, flour, almonds, orange or lemon, brandy.
Weigh four eggs, and take equal weights of castor sugar, butter, and flour. Pound three ounces of almonds, and mix them with an egg, melt the butter, and mix all the ingredients with a wooden spoon in a pudding basin for ten minutes, then add a little scraped orange or lemon peel, and a dessert-spoonful of brandy. Spread out the paste in thin layers on a copper baking sheet, cover them with buttered paper, and bake in a moderately hot oven.
Weigh four eggs, and use the same weight of caster sugar, butter, and flour. Grind three ounces of almonds, mix them with an egg, melt the butter, and stir all the ingredients together with a wooden spoon in a mixing bowl for ten minutes. Then add a little grated orange or lemon peel and a dessert spoonful of brandy. Spread the mixture in thin layers on a copper baking sheet, cover them with greased paper, and bake in a moderately hot oven.
These cakes must be cut into shapes when they are hot, as otherwise they will break.
These cakes need to be cut into shapes while they're hot; otherwise, they'll break.
No. 222. Zabajone
Ingredients: Eggs, sugar, Marsala, Maraschino or other light-coloured liqueur, sponge fingers.
Ingredients: Eggs, sugar, Marsala, Maraschino or another light-colored liqueur, sponge fingers.
Zabajone is a kind of syllabub. It is made with Marsala and Maraschino, or Marsala and yellow Chartreuse. Reckon the quantities as follows: for each person the yolks of three eggs, one teaspoonful of castor sugar to each egg, and a wine-glass of wine and liqueur mixed. Whip up the yolks of the eggs with the sugar, then gradually add the wine. Put this in a bain-marie, and stir until it has thickened to the consistency of a custard. Take care, however, that it does not boil. Serve hot in custard glasses, and hand sponge fingers with it.
Zabajone is a type of syllabub. It’s made with Marsala and Maraschino, or Marsala and yellow Chartreuse. Here’s how to measure the ingredients: for each person, use the yolks of three eggs, one teaspoon of castor sugar for each egg, and a wine glass of mixed wine and liqueur. Whip the egg yolks with the sugar, then slowly add the wine. Place this mixture in a bain-marie and stir until it thickens to a custard-like consistency. Just make sure it doesn’t boil. Serve it hot in custard glasses and offer it with sponge fingers.
No. 223. Iced Zabajone
Ingredients: Eggs, castor sugar, Marsala, cinnamon, lemon, stick vanilla, rum, Maraschino, butter, ice.
Ingredients: Eggs, caster sugar, Marsala wine, cinnamon, lemon, vanilla stick, rum, Maraschino liqueur, butter, ice.
Mix the yolks of ten eggs, two dessert-spoonsful of castor sugar, and three wine-glasses of Marsala, add half a stick of vanilla, a small bit of whole cinnamon, and the peel of half a lemon cut into slices.
Mix the yolks of ten eggs, two tablespoons of caster sugar, and three glasses of Marsala wine, then add half a stick of vanilla, a small piece of whole cinnamon, and the peel of half a lemon cut into slices.
Whip this up lightly over a slow fire until it is nearly boiling and slightly frothy; then remove it, take out the cinnamon, vanilla, and lemon pool, and whip up the rest for a minute or two away from the fire. Add a tablespoonful of Maraschino and one of rum, and, if you like, a small quantity of dissolved isinglass. Stir up the whole, pour it into a silver souffle dish, and put it on ice. Serve with sponge cakes or iced wafers.
Whip this together gently over low heat until it's almost boiling and slightly frothy; then take it off the heat, remove the cinnamon, vanilla, and lemon, and whip the rest for a minute or two off the heat. Add a tablespoon of Maraschino and one of rum, and, if you'd like, a small amount of dissolved gelatin. Mix everything together, pour it into a silver souffle dish, and chill it. Serve with sponge cakes or iced wafers.
No. 224. Pan-forte di Siena (Sienese Hardbake)
Ingredients: Honey, almonds, filberts, candied lemon peel, pepper, cinnamon, chocolate, corn flour, large wafers.
Ingredients: Honey, almonds, hazelnuts, candied lemon peel, pepper, cinnamon, chocolate, corn flour, large wafers.
Boil half a pound of honey in a copper vessel, and then add to it a few blanched almonds and filberts cut in halves or quarters and slightly browned, a little candied lemon peel, a dust of pepper and powdered cinnamon and a quarter pound of grated chocolate. Mix all well together, and gradually add a tablespoonful of corn flour end two of ground almonds to thicken it. Then take the vessel off the fire, spread the mixture on large wafers, and make each cake about an inch thick. Garnish them on the top with almonds cut in half, and dust over a little powdered sugar and cinnamon, then put them in a very slow oven for an hour.
Boil half a pound of honey in a copper pot, then add some blanched almonds and hazelnuts cut in halves or quarters and lightly browned, a bit of candied lemon peel, a pinch of pepper, powdered cinnamon, and a quarter pound of grated chocolate. Mix everything together well, then gradually add a tablespoon of cornstarch and two tablespoons of ground almonds to thicken it. Next, remove the pot from the heat, spread the mixture onto large wafers, and shape each cake to about an inch thick. Top them with almonds cut in half, sprinkle some powdered sugar and cinnamon on top, then place them in a very low oven for an hour.
NEW CENTURY SAUCE * * The New Century Sauce may be bought at Messrs. Lazenby's, Wigmore Street, W
NEW CENTURY SAUCE * * You can buy the New Century Sauce at Messrs. Lazenby's, Wigmore Street, W
No. 225. Fish Sauce
Add one dessert-spoonful of the sauce to a quarter pint of melted butter sauce.
Add one dessert spoonful of the sauce to a quarter pint of melted butter sauce.
No. 226. Sauce Piquante (for Meat, Fowl, Game, Rabbit, &c.)
One dessert-spoonful to a quarter pint of ordinary brown or white stock. It may be thickened by a roux made by frying two ounces of butter with two ounces of flour.
One dessert spoonful to a quarter pint of regular brown or white stock. It can be thickened with a roux made by cooking two ounces of butter with two ounces of flour.
No. 227. Sauce for Venison, Hare, &c.
Two dessert-spoonsful of New Century Sauce to half a pint of game gravy or sauce, and a small teaspoonful of red currant jelly.
Two dessert spoons of New Century Sauce to half a pint of game gravy or sauce, and a small teaspoon of red currant jelly.
No. 228. Tomato Sauce Piquante
Fry three medium-sized tomatoes in one and a half ounce of butter. Pass this through a sieve, then boil it up in a bain-marie till it thickens, and add one dessertspoonful of New Century Sauce.
Fry three medium tomatoes in one and a half ounces of butter. Strain this through a sieve, then heat it in a bain-marie until it thickens, and add one dessert spoon of New Century Sauce.
No. 229. Sauce for Roast Pork, Ham, &c.
Add to any ordinary white or brown sauce one dessert-spoonful of New Century Sauce and two of port or Burgundy if the sauce is brown, two of Chablis if white.
Add one dessert spoonful of New Century Sauce to any regular white or brown sauce, along with two spoonfuls of port or Burgundy for brown sauce, or two spoonfuls of Chablis for white sauce.
No. 230. For masking Cutlets, &c.
Making a roux by frying two ounces of butter with two ounces of flour, and add two tablespoonsful of boiling stock. Stir in one dessert-spoonful of New Century Sauce. Let it get cold, and it will then be quite firm and ready for masking cutlets, &c.
Making a roux by frying two ounces of butter with two ounces of flour, and add two tablespoons of boiling stock. Stir in one dessert spoon of New Century Sauce. Let it cool, and it will then be firm and ready for coating cutlets, etc.
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