June 30 ...
Today here in
It made me think of a financial theme for the day. I have often wondered how the classic French garnish that entitles a dish to be styled ‘à la Financière. ’ This garnish (and I am quoting Larousse here) consists of ‘cock’s combs, cock’s kidneys, quenelles, lamb’s sweetbreads, mushrooms, olives, and strips of truffles’. Methinks it sounds like a meal all on its own, not a mere garnish. An alternative gives it as including a sauce made with Madeira and Truffles, which probably explains the name - it is obviously short for ‘à la clever Financière. ’
Cookbooks authors almost always stress the necessity of economy in the kitchen (apart from the Baron Brisse, that is). Cookbooks of the Victorian era seemed to particularly delight in giving recipes whose very names suggested that they were suitable for economically distraught times. We had ‘Half Pay Pudding’ in a previous story, but there are many others – Save-All Pudding, Miser’s Sauce, Poor-Man’s Soup, for example. All quite gloomy, really. I want to assume that at least a few of you are clever, even elegant, economists. To you I dedicate this pudding, from Cassell’s Shilling Cookery (1888).
The Elegant Economist’s Pudding.
Cut the remains of any plum pudding into neat slices and lay them in a buttered pie-dish, pressing them down to make them adhere. Make as much custard as will fill the dish. Let it go cold. Pour it upon the pudding; cover the top with thin slices of pudding, and bake in a gentle oven. When the custard is set, the pudding is done enough. It will take from half an hour to an hour, depending on its size. The custard may be plain or rich, according to taste.
Any ideas (ridiculous or otherwise) as to how this pudding got its name?
Dominion Day, 1933.
Quotation for the Day.
When you give food to the poor, they call you a saint.
When you ask why the poor have no food, they call you a communist.
Archbishop Helder Camara.