An American Dinner in London.

On this day in 1863 was held in London, England, an ‘American Dinner.’ Here is what The Epicure's Year Book And Table Companion said of the event:

It has been said that canvass-back ducks cannot be eaten in perfection in London, nor in anything like perfection: but we call to mind an occasion on which, on the authority of American gourmets present, these precious birds were eaten in perfection - in perfect condition, and perfectly cooked. The dinner took place on the 29th December, 1863, and the entire menu was specially imported by the host, Mr. H. L. Bateman. The dinner was cooked admirably by Mr. Blanchard, of Beak Street, Regent Street, and was served in his establishment. The following was the menu. The Saddle Rock oysters were as they are in the States.

Saddle Rock oysters.

Oyster soup à l'Americaine.

Turbot, lobster sauce.

Canvass-back ducks; celery.

Saddle of mutton.

Diamond-back terrapin à la Maryland.

Dessert.

Wines.

Sauterne, amontillado, claret, champagne.

Recipe for the Day.

In case you should be lucky enough to find some canvas-back duck for your dinner, I give you a simple but elegant sauce recipe from Joe Tilden’s Recipes for Epicures (1907.)

Sauce for Canvas-back Duck.
melt together in a hot soup plate one ounce of butter, and an equal amount of currant jelly. Add th juice of a lime, a glass of sherry and a small cupful of finely chopped celery. Season with salt, pepper, and cayenne.

A Bite of Chocolate.

Today, September 19^th …

George Cadbury was born on this day in 1839. He was the son of John Cadbury, a Quaker who opened a modest little grocery store in Birmingham in 1824, from which he advertised and sold “'Cocoa Nibs', prepared by himself, an article affording a most nutritious beverage for breakfast.” John could hardly have realised in 1824 how spectacularly serendipitous his timing was. Huge developments in chocolate manufacture were just on the horizon.

The ancient Olmec civilisation of Central America are now credited with the cultivation of the cacao tree somewhere between 2 ½ and 3 ½ thousand years ago. The knowledge was bequeathed to the subsequent Maya and Aztec civilisations, and ultimately via the Spanish conquerors of the very early sixteenth century, it found its way to Europe. First and foremost, chocolate was a beverage, and it remained this for hundreds of years after its enthusiastic adoption by Europeans. Several steps were necessary before it developed into the chocolate bar as we know it today – and these happened all of a rush in the first half of the nineteenth century, which is why John Cadbury proved to be a man with the right ideas, in the right place, at the very right time.

A few years after John opened his shop, a man called Coenraad Van Houten in Amsterdam patented an process that resulted in a superior form of chocolate powder – superior in that the fat content was reduced by removing the some of the cocoa butter (making the ‘cakes’ easier to pulverize), and it was also less bitter and easier to dissolve (by virtue of treatment with alkaline salts). The process became known as ‘dutching’.

In 1847, another Quaker called Joseph Fry (great-grandson and name-sake of the original founder of the company) made another giant leap towards the development of eatable chocolate. He mixed some of the cocoa fat back into the ‘dutched’ cocoa powder to make a paste that could be pressed into a mould. The aim was apparently still to make a cake which was then to be used to make a drink, but it did not take long for the public to cotton onto the fact that this cake was pretty good to eat as it was.

The Cadbury family stayed firmly on the chocolate manufacturing bandwagon, and the first prettily boxed chocolates were turned out in 1868. There was a final development before chocolate perfection could be achieved. In 1879 Rudolphe Lindt invented what became known as the conching machine (because of its shell-shape), which gave chocolate the superb mouth-feel that we associate with superior chocolate today.

Chocolate does not have to be eaten out of hand of course. It is still a worthy ingredient in cooking. Here is an early eighteen century idea from the English translation of a famous French cookbook.

A Sea-duck with Chocolate in a Ragoo.
Having pick’t, cleans’d and drawn your Sea-duck, as before, let it be wash’d, broile’d a little while upon the Coals, and afterwards put in a Pot; seasoning it with Pepper, Salt, Bay-leaves and a Faggot of Herbs. Then a little Chocolate is to be made and added thereto; preparing a the same time a Ragoo with Capons-livers, Morilles, Mousserons, common Mushrooms, Truffles, and a quarter of a hundred of Chestnuts. When the Sea-duck is ready dress’d in its proper Dish, pour your Ragoo upon it; garnish it with what you please, and let it be serv’d up to Table.
[Court and Country Cook, by Francois Massialot (a.k.a Vincent La Chapelle); 1702]

Tomorrow’s Story …

Meat From The Jungle.

Quotation for the Day …

Chocolate, of course, is the stuff of which fantasies are made. Rich, dark, velvety-smooth fantasies that envelop the senses and stir the passions. Chocolate is madness; chocolate is delight. Judith Olney.

The Baron Brisse Menu 5.

Today, August 17^th

We have lost the art of setting and decorating a dinner table it seems. In return for this lost art we have the convenience of being able to eat anywhere any-time - on the run, in the car, standing at the kitchen bench, out of a take-away box, or in front of TV. It was very different in the baron’s day.

DECORATIONS OF THE DINNER TABLE.
How to lay the covers.
Formerly dinner-tables were heavily decorated with massive bronze, silver, and cut-glass ornaments, which prevented the guests from seeing each other across the table, and rendered conversation with your opposite neighbour impossible. At the present time, these ornaments have been superceded by low flower-baskets of either glass or silver. Formerly candelabra only held four or five candles, now they hold as many as fourteen or fifteen, so we require fewer and have more light.
Each guest must have a tumbler and three wine-glasses placed on his right-hand side, arranged according to the order in which the wines are served. First, Madeira; second, Bordeaux; third, Champagne. During dinner extra wines have special glasses handed with them. Finger-glasses with warm water must be handed after crayfish or prawns.
The dessert plates must always have a doiley and a finger-glass placed on them.

I do hope that little historic reminder inspires you to dust off the candelabra lurking in the back of your cupboard, and to wash and iron your doiley collection. When you have done that, here is the baron’s menu suggestion for today.

Menu for August 17.

Potage à l’ oiselle à la crème.
(Sorrel soup with cream).
Matelote savant.
(Stewed carp, pike, perch, barbel, and eel).
Canard au navets.
(Stewed duck and turnips).
Quartier d’agneau rôti.
(Roast forequarter of lamb)
Concombres farcis.
(Stuffed cucumbers)
Pêches à la Bourdaloue.
(Peaches à la Bourdaloue).

Today’s recipe choice is unequivocally, classically French:

Stewed duck and turnips.
Truss your duck and brown in a stew-pan with some fresh butter, peel and cut some young turnips into equal sizes and brown in the same butter, stir in a little powdered sugar. Reduce some stock to a thin brown sauce, season with salt, pepper, a bouquet of parsley, chives, half a head of garlic, and laurel [Bay] leaves, stew the duck in this sauce, and when half cooked add the turnips, turn the duck from time to time, and be careful not to break the turnips, cook over a slow fire. Clear the sauce of all grease, and serve.

Monday’s Story …

Advice to picnic parties.

Quotation for the Day ….

The French are sawed-off sissies who eat snails and slugs and cheese that smells like people's feet. Utter cowards who force their own children to drink wine, they gibber like baboons even when you try to speak to them in their own wimpy language. P. J. O'Rourke

The Viscount and his Turnips.

Today, April 18th …

Charles Townshend, second Viscount, was born in Norfolk England on this day in 1665. He was a Whig politician and Secretary of State for a number of years between 1714 and 1730 until he fell out with his brother-in-law Robert Walpole over foreign policy issues, and was forced to resign. Politic’s loss was Agriculture’s gain however, and he devoted the rest of his life to improving farming methods at his family home of Raynham.

He gained his nickname of “Turnip” Townshend not from introducing the turnip to England, as is often claimed (it had been grown in a smallway for half a century), but because of his interest in and enthusiasm for the vegetable. He was an enthusiastic promoter of the relatively new idea of crop rotation in which four crops (wheat, turnips, barley and clover) were rotated annually. The advantages were huge. There was no need to have land ‘wasted’ lying fallow every few years, the nitrogen-fixing ability of the clover enriched the land, as did the increased manuring by the animals grazing the fodder crops. The real advantage of the turnips however was that they stored well and enabled animals to be over-wintered rather than all but breeding stock being slaughtered sometime in November.

Townshend’s efforts revolutionised animal husbandry, but it seems he may have been a tad boring on the subject at times, for the poet Alexander Pope said rather drily of him that “he was particularly fond of that kind of rural improvement which arises from Turnips; it was the favourite subject of his conversation.”

In France baby turnips (navets) are used in several classic dishes, and the green tops can be delicious cooked as spinach, but the English generally do not consider turnips a premium vegetable for humans. The following recipe from The cook’s and confectioner’s dictionary (Fourth edition; 1733) does seem to use them in an interesting way, although as one cant seem to get good servants nowadays, I think I’ll forgo the decorative step of cutting pieces of turnip in the shape of cocks’ combs, however pretty they may be. Note also the casual suggestion of adding a roast duck, at which point it would probably sensible to offer it to your guests as Canard au Navets.

To make Turnip Soop.
Pare your Turnips, cut them into Dice, fry them brown in Hogs Lard or clarified Butter; put to them a Quart or two of Gravy, and the Crust of a French Roll or two, boil’d and strain’d; drain your Turnips from the Fat they were fry’d in; put them together, and boil them till they become tender: You may lay a roasted Duck in the middle of your Soop. Make a rim for your Soop-dish; garnish with small dic’d Turnips, boil’d in white Broth, and a Piece of fry’d Turnip, cut in the Form of a Cocks-comb, between every Piece. Let your Bread be soaked in good Fat and Gravy, and serve it up.

Tomorrow’s Story …

Garlic Day.

Last Year on this Day …

We dined with Dickens at Delmonico’s.

Quotation for the Day …

The turnip is a capricious vegetable, which seems reluctant to show itself at its best. Waverley Root.