Friday, November 19, 2010

Mark Twain's 1906 Players Club Dinner, Part 2



Another reason to recreate a 1906 Mark Twain dinner to mark my anniversary was to celebrate his autobiography -- published this week, 100 years after his death, just as he had stipulated.  How’s that for a good stunt (and it’s #5 on the Amazon list, not bad for someone celebrating his 165th birthday this year)!


Sassy, ornery and funny - it sticks pins in the rich and powerful in a way he felt would be best appreciated after the characters were long dead. Robert Hirst, curator of the Mark Twain papers said: “He liked to say nasty things-he’s really good at it-but he didn’t like the idea of being there when the person heard them and was hurt by them!”  I can’t wait to read it.  Dictated the last 4 years of his life, it is sure to be full of tales of many nights like this 1906 dinner at the Players.

Player’s Private Dining Room, 1905

Player’s Private Dining Room today

Twain attended many dinners at the Players.  The lucky tradition of guests signing the menus puts Twain at quite a few, his ‘John Hancock’ prominent on each menu, including that of the Delmonico’s lunch that launched the Player’s Club in 1887.   I’d like to think that this menu consisted of Twain’s favorite dishes since so much effort was spent organizing suitable quotations for the occasion.




You’d think they would be exhausted by the time they got to the punch, but the dinners were as much about fellowship and conversation as they were about food… and don’t forget the alcohol!  There would have been wonderful wines to go with the food and every good men’s club of that era kept a well stocked cellar. 

Taking my cue from a list that Ranhofer compiled in The Epicurean  , the caviar and oysters would have seen Sauternes, Barzac ( a slightly drier Sauterne) and Montrachets.  The turtle soup would have had a Madeira or sherry.  The frog’s legs would probably have seen a Rhine wine and sweetbreads Moulin-á-vent, Macon or Clos de Vougeot.  The squab would be paired with a Medoc or St Emilion or St Julien.  The dessert would probably be taken with champagne --Pommery, Cliquot, Perrier Jouet, Moet and Mum. It’s fascinating that so many of the brands we have today were around then!  With coffee the Otard cognac of course - as the menu specified, followed by cordials and beer at the end! 


The Epicurean


I was curious how a modern wine professional would feel about this list so I asked my friend, Dan Perrelli at The Wine Hotel in L.A.  He responded:

“Written records of 19th century food and wine pairings often surprise with recognizable names, yet confuse the modern palate in their seemingly kaleidoscopic nature.  There are two points to remember.  One, the very nature of the named libation has likely changed in the intervening century.  Two, lists like this were prepared for diners possessing a deep love and knowledge of wine and food; they are artifacts of an era's highest culture.

The challenge is to compose a harmonious progression from the proffered wines. Completely dependent on each dish's flavors, I can't hazard a guess.  I will say that the most expansive, iconoclastic choice here is the sweetbreads: wines based on Gamay, Chardonnay, or Pinot Noir.  I guess covering the Burgundy waterfront is the ideology.”

Dan continued, “My friend, Chef Octavio Becerra, introduced me to the felicitous practice of the evening-ending beer.  Calms the stomach.”  So beer to finish isn’t as peculiar a nightcap as I had thought!
But wait, there are 2 more dishes left to share with you, and squab is next up on the menu.  I never knew that the word ‘squab’ could be a sofa or a way to “fall heavily plump and fat,” words have taken strange turns, haven’t they?  For our purposes, a squab is a young pigeon that is dispatched just as its feathers are starting to come in and therefore is less darkly flavored than the adult version.  Then as now, squab was a fancy dish for a well-heeled audience. 

I decided since I had 2 beautiful little D’Artagnan  squabs to play with, I would try them 2 ways, split and fried and roasted whole to see which I preferred. I used 2 different sauces as well – one tangy with tarragon vinegar and the other sweet and rich with port and currant jelly.  Both are excellent and would work with duck admirably.  Remember, like its grown-up version, squab does not like being over-cooked… it turns liverish… go for medium for best results.  Squab aren't large as the Twain quote noted 

"It is as sweet an outfit as ever I saw, what there is of it."  Too true,  but as Spencer Tracy once observed "what's there is choice" (actually, he said cherse, in his inimitable tough guy way).



Squabs with Tarragon

2 D'Artagnan squabs, split in half 
S&P
2 oz butter
1 t flour
1/2 cup reduced stock*
1 T tarragon vinegar (I put tarragon in ww vinegar a few days before)
1T Madeira


Sauté the squabs in butter till cooked and brown, about 12 minutes (do not overcook, it will make the meat taste liverish... go for medium!).  Pour off half the butter (if the butter has gotten too brown, toss it and add 2 T fresh butter) and add the flour.  Pour in the stock, madeira and the vinegar and adjust the seasoning.  Plate and pour sauce over the squabs and serve.




Roasted Squab with Currant Port Wine Sauce

2 D'Artagnan squabs

carrot sticks (optional)
¼ cup currant jelly
¼ c port
3 T demiglace
S&P to taste


Place a cast iron skillet inside the oven. Pre-heat the oven to 500 degrees and heat skillet for 15 minutes after it had come up to temperature Season the squabs inside and out with salt and pepper. Pull out skillet and set the birds on it and return to oven. Roast for 15-18 minutes, until squab reaches about 120 degrees. I tossed a few oiled carrot sticks on the bottom first as I read in a Ming Tsai recipe, it keeps the bottom of the bird from burning. Let rest for 10 minutes. The bird was perfect!



Warm the jelly and add the port and demiglace. Reduce till slightly thickened and glaze the bird.Brush the sauce on the bird after it's cooked and serve the rest of the sauce on the side.

Ice Cream Heaven from The Epicurean

The last dish on the Twain menu is Nesselrode Pudding.  This is my 3rd effort making this and I think my most successful.  I cooked the chestnuts in their sugar bath till the sugar caramelized a little and that made for a sublimely decadent flavor and texture.  Soaking the fruit in maraschino didn’t hurt either… it cuts through the luxurious ice cream in a lovely way.

What I discovered making lemon ice months ago was too much sugar means ice will not freeze completely.  This is why the original recipe calls for soaking the raisins and currants in syrup so they will not be hard frozen nuggets in the cream.  Using alcohol accomplishes the same thing.  Having the maraschino-marinated sour cherries as a foil to the sweetness finishes the dish perfectly. 

And what’s the history of this killer ice cream dessert?  Who was Nesselrode?

Nesselrode Pudding was invented by the king of chefs, Antonin Carême (1784-1833) in 1814 and named for the Russian diplomat Count Karl von Nesselrode (1780- 1862) who was astonishingly multicultural for his time.  Born aboard a Russian ship in port in Portugal, educated in Berlin and a Naval aide-de-camp to Tsar Paul at the age of 16, he went on to guide world politics as a statesman for the Holy Alliance (even intervening in territorial issues between the US and Russia over the “Oregon Country” boundaries in 1824) and one of the richest men in Europe thanks to his reward from a grateful French government for his successful negotiations to reduce the penalties imposed on France after Waterloo.

Ivan Day of Historical Food, felt that the pudding was originally molded to look like the classic English boiled puddings as a visual joke since it would be cold and light instead of warm and heavy.  I wrote about the dessert and the wonderful Maraschino liqueur that gives it punch in my first post HERE.

 It seems appropriate to have this at the end of a great dinner… and it will make you smile with pleasure when you dip your spoon into the sinful chestnut cream and boozy custard as Mr. Twain must have done. The quote used for the dish was:" His motto was, 'Meat first and spoon vittles to top off on.' " You can definitely be topped off with this!


Nesselrode Pudding based on Jules Gouffé ‘s 1874 recipe

¾ c sugar
1/3 c water
1 c heavy cream
1 cup milk
2 egg yolks, beaten
1 t vanilla
1 oz raisins
1 oz currants
1/3 c whipped cream


Nesselrode Sauce

1 egg yolk
1 t sugar
½ c cream
12 marrons glacés *
12 frozen sour cherries marinated in 2 T maraschino liqueur


Put currents and raisins in a bowl with the maraschino liqueur and let sit... overnight is best.

Take the chestnuts, sugar and water and put in a saucepan on low heat for 10 – 15 minutes until sugar thickens and caramelizes slightly.  Let cool to lukewarm and puree with the cream and milk then strain.  Put in a saucepan with egg yolks and bring to 160º over low heat.  Remove, add vanilla and  strain again and cool.

When it has cooled, prepare in you ice cream maker and at the end put in the fruit and marinade.  Freeze in 1 large or individual molds. This makes 4 small, very very rich servings!

While the ice cream is freezing, prepare the sauce.

Stir sugar together with egg and add cream.  Put over a low frame, stirring constantly until thickened add the maraschino.  Refrigerate.

Plate ice cream, drizzle sauce on plate and place cherries and marrons glacés around plate.  ~~~Word to the wise… CHILL the plate and don’t walk away from the mold… it will droop (see the photo below)!

*To make them, take some cooked and peeled chestnuts and put in sugar syrup for 5-10 minutes over a low flame.  Drain them and set aside.






Next, the menu quotes Twain:

”That Otard if you please.  Never take an inferior liquor, gentlemen, not in the evening in this climate.  That’s the stuff, My respects!” Evidently Twain thought highly enough of the cognac to ask for it by name.  There are reasons for this allegiance beginning with a fine long pedigree.



The Otard family came from the Viking Ottar who arrived in Scotland to burn and pillage 1200 years ago and ended up staying, collecting a title and building a Castle – DunnOttar -- built between the 13th and 17th centuries (but an early dark ages fortress would have been there before the existing ruins).



The Ottars followed the Stuart cause with James II to France in 1688 (and their lovely castle was pulled down for scrap as a punishment for their politics) and were made Barons Otard in 1701 by a grateful French king.  


They bought the 1000-year old Chateau de Cognac in 1763 and founded a cognac firm in 1795 after return from exile during the revolution (his neighbors released the Baron from certain death and he escaped to England).  Their product is still considered one of the premier examples of cognac and an Otard still owns the business,  making it one of the oldest family-owned companies in the world.


The quote, “Westward the Jug of Empire makes its way” marks the closing of the dinner, with whisky.  We know this was a favorite beverage of Mr Twain and the line is an allusion to Twain’s “Life on the Mississippi” wherein he relays his theory of whisky’s role in the advance of civilization:

“How solemn and beautiful is the thought that the earliest pioneer of civilization, the van-leader of civilization, is never the steamboat, never the railroad, never the newspaper, never the Sabbath-school, never the missionary -- but always whiskey! …But whiskey, you see, was the van-leader in this beneficent work. It always is. It was like a foreigner -- and excusable in a foreigner -- to be ignorant of this great truth, and wander off into astronomy to borrow a symbol. But if he had been conversant with the facts, he would have said: Westward the Jug of Empire takes its way.” 
- Life on the Mississippi



And so dinner draws to its conclusion: “They continued to fetch and pour until I was well soaked and thoroughly comfortable.” Twain would have retired downstairs to play billiards with the other gentlemen in his party… smoking his cigars and perhaps walking the few blocks home in the chill winter air.


Heck of a party, heck of a year… and so, to you all, thanks for all of your support for lost past remembered.

Do please enjoy this wonderful drink, Sparkling Champagne Cider, based on 1869’s Cooling Cups and Dainty Drinks.  I toast you all!





Sparkling Cider for 2 based on an 1869 Recipe

½  c good cider
½  c sparkling wine
2 t orange flower water
½ drop Neroli or Bergamot essence from Aftelier 

Pour all into glasses and serve.  The neroli perfumes your mouth in a divine way!

Thanks to Gollum for hosting Foodie Friday


For any of you who want some fun turkey tips, drop on over to D'Artagnan and watch the fun turkey videos that I sat in on... fun to make and fun to watch.... Ariane is a natural!

Friday, November 12, 2010

Mark Twain’s 1906 Players Club Dinner, Part 1



I began this blog a year ago!  In that time I have had over 100,000 visits, learned about many things that I had always been curious about, sharpened my photography skills (still a way to go on that one!)  found some spectacular purveyors of food, drink and scents and met many wonderful blog friends who have been tirelessly supportive and generously shared their enjoyment of life in general and food in particular.


The whole idea of Lost Past Remembered began in 2008 when I discovered a cache of 19th century menus at the Player’s Club in NYC.  From there a blog was born. I began to make things I had always wanted to make and share old favorites from my personal recipe stash, realizing that in choosing my blog’s name I had given myself a gigantic playing field.  At this point the 90’s are history, aren’t they?

In honor of this milestone, I thought I would revisit my first post and create the whole menu that was served for Mark Twain in 1906 since the first post was all talk and no cooking (I had made Nesselrode Pudding the Christmas before, sans photos).   Because of the number of dishes, the post will come in two parts.  Most of the recipes have come from Delmonico’s 1894 recipe book, The Epicurean by Charles Ranhofer, as it was a familiar favorite restaurant for Twain. 

As I said in my first Twain post  , this was a welcome-back dinner and for it the Player’s pulled out all the stops.  Twain quotes were used throughout to illuminate the menu. 



Original 1906 Twain Menu



To start, caviar.  From Ranhofer’s description of cavar in The Epicurean, it has changed somewhat from what we eat today.  It was more like pressed caviar and although the US produced its own excellent variety, the preferred source, then as now, was the Caspian Sea.







Served with lemon and onion, as it would have been 100 years ago, it is still a great way to start out a grand occasion as the accompanying quote in the menu said; “ it is peradventure that manner of thing which of late the unbelievers have brought from over the great seas?  You bet… sturgeon eggs are that and so much more.


The Beluga sturgeon is the rarest Caspian Sea variety.  It can live to be 100 years old, grow to 30 feet and weigh up to 1800 pounds.  It takes 20 years to mature and produce roe.  Before the fall of the Soviet Union, the catch was strictly monitored. Without this protection the magnificent Beluga sturgeon will soon be extinct thanks to an explosion in illegal poaching (take care that you know where your caviar comes from before buying, -- encourage legal sources by buying from them).



Next, Oysters, “A blowout ain’t anything as a blowout unless a body has company” said Twain.





Oysters were served simply with shallots, lemon and salt and pepper at the turn of the century (I added tarragon).  That hasn’t changed -- they are still best served that way.  In the 19th century oysters held a peculiar place on the New York food chain.  Plentiful enough (on any day in the late 19th century, 6 million oysters would be harvested from NY Harbor) that poor people could eat them, yet given a Minton dish and silver fork, equally at home in a very elegant dining room. Sadly,  by the early 20th century, oysters were gone from the harbor due to pollution and over-fishing and were imported and only consumed by the wealthy.

Dinner Table from The Epicurean

Also at table would have been celery dishes -- long, heavy, cut-glass celery dishes.



I remember this from my grandmother’s table as a child.   At any large dinner there were always cut glass celery dishes with radishes and accompanying salt dishes.  It is easy to forget that my grandmother would have been in her 20s in 1906… this was her youth!  All of the old-fashioned ways she had were born in the turn of the 20th century.






In 1906, no fine meal would be complete without turtle soup and the Twain quote for it on the menu read ""We had a soup that had something in it that seemed to taste like the hereafter, but it proved to be only pepper".  


Green turtle was a dish for the rich in New York and was seen either on its own or in a soup. The green sea turtle was so named because of the yellow-green tint to the fat of the under-shell called the calipee, and green calipash gelatin from the upper shell that gave it a special flavor and gelatinous texture. The green turtle averages 2-6 feet in length and 300-400 pounds when fully mature and lives in warm, tropical areas. According to the NYTs, a private cook would procure a small 30-pound specimen for home use.  It was on every menu of the fine restaurants, private clubs and well-to-do homes of the day. Today it is a protected species.



When I was young, I tasted Green Turtle Soup at The Lotos Club in New York City   (Mark Twain called The Lotos the “Ace of Clubs”).  It was originally on 14th Street and Irving, only a few blocks from the Player’s Club on Gramercy Park in NYC.  Twain would often walk between them, enjoying the society of both places


Like the Players Club, The Lotos Club was begun by Twain and others to cater to writers and journalists and friends of the arts toward the end of the 19th Century.



By the time I visited, it had moved into a beautiful townhouse on 5 E 66th Street.  I ate the turtle soup reluctantly at a meal there (I had a pet turtle as a child so eschewed eating the little beasties in memory of my beloved pet).   What I remember most about it was that it had an amazing green color, a slightly viscous texture and that was perfumed with sherry.  I felt guilty about it, but it was delicious and seemed very sophisticated  to my young eyes.

Alice in Wonderland, Mock-Turtle

For this menu, I made “mock turtle” using ideas from an 1891 NYTs recipe since green turtle is off-limits.   The green color and flavor I longed for was arrived at with the help of soaking herbs in Madeira… brilliant idea.  I wanted it greener still so just before serving, I put it in the blender with more herbs, strained it and, voilá -- there was the perfect calipash-green I wanted.  The soup is light and delicious.  My biggest pointer would be to use homemade stock.  The packaged stuff will not work… and will give the soup an  “off” taste.  Mock turtle is usually made with veal stock, a stock made with calves head to give the soup the gelatin it needs to be more like turtle soup (sorry, no calves head this time!).  Turtle was an expensive delicacy in the 19th century, but the new middle classes loved the idea and mock turtle was born and became extremely popular.  These days you can add a little gelatin to rich stock and get the same effect should you not feel like boiling a head!  It is slightly thickened, not aspic like.



Mock Green Turtle Soup serves 6

4 c good homemade stock (beef or chicken)
slice of ham or ham bone
 a sprig of marjoram,
2 sprigs of parsley
½ an onion, sliced
pinch of cloves
S &P

2 T butter
2 T flour

2 sprigs each marjoram, thyme basil and parsley, roughly chopped
1 cup Madeira from the Rare Wine Company

1 sprig parsley
1 sprig basil
½ t gelatin softened in ½ c stock (optional)
lemon slices


Marinate the herbs in the Madeira for a few hours or overnight.

Put stock, ham herbs onion cloves and salt and pepper in a pot and simmer for an hour or 3 if using a ham bone.

Strain the stock, skim any fat and blend with the butter.  Add the herbs from the Madeira, reserving the Madeira.
The NYTs recommends leaving it overnight at this point to lose the raw taste.

Just before serving, heat the soup, add the gelatin then remove a cup of stock and blend with the extra herbs.  Add this back into the soup, strain, adjust seasoning (adding some of the herb scented Madeira if needed) and serve with a lemon slice in each bowl.

After the lightness of caviar, oysters, crudités and turtle soup, it’s time to have a little meat. In this case, it is Frog’s legs.  “It might be a canary, maybe, but it ain’t: it’s only just a frog.”







 If you’ve never had them, you are in store for a treat.  I know everyone always says this -- but they are chicken-like with a hint of troutiness, very delicately flavored with a texture like chicken wings and wonderful in this deviled style that really needs a renaissance.  If you can’t get them, this works beautifully with chicken wings.  If the sauce is too much for you, a good ketchup with a little horseradish would be great with these fried frogs legs.  The deviled crumb is a little unruly but delicious.




Deviled Frog’s Legs

1 lb frogs legs
S & P
¼ t nutmeg
1 T lemon juice
1 T Dijon mustard
½ t dry mustard
4 T melted butter
1 c breadcrumbs
Deviled Sauce

Season frog’s legs with salt, pepper and nutmeg.  Combine mustard, lemon juice and butter and coat the frog’s legs with it, then roll in bread-crumbs.    Broil for 10 minutes turning once until browned and serve with Deviled sauce.


Deviled Sauce


2 T vinegar
1 ounces chopped shallot
a few parsley leaves
a sprig of thyme
a clove of garlic, crushed and chopped
1c espagnole sauce (see recipe in sweetbread's recipe)
a pinch of pepper
a pinch of cayenne
1/4 c red wine
1 T mustard
1/2 t dry mustard
1 T tomato sauce


Cook the vinegar, shallot, herbs and garlic for a few minutes.  Allow to steep.  Strain and add the rest and serve warm.   




After that came sweetbreads, “The precious juices of the meat trickling out and joining the gravy archipelegoed with mushrooms.”  This is a complex preparation.  It is best done in pieces.  I hadn’t made an espagnole sauce in years but there’s a reason it’s called a mother sauce.




Sweetbreads au Monarch for 2

¾ lb sweetbreads, trimmed, boiled and pressed *
2 T butter
1 c Madeira sauce**
2 circles of bread
chicken quenelle with truffle ***
a few slices of truffle from D'Artagnan
1 artichoke bottom, cooked and cubed
2 mushrooms, sliced
2 crawfish tail or jumbo shrimp

Saute the sweetbreads in butter, remove and keep warm.   Saute the mushrooms in the butter.  Add the artichoke and foie gras and crawfish tail or shrimp and cook till done.  Return  sweetbread with truffle slices to pan and coat with sauce.  Put a toasted circle of bread on the plate.  Arrange mushrooms, foie gras and artichoke on the plate.  Place sweetbread, quenelle and crayfish/ shrimp on the toast and nap with remaining sauce.


**Madeira Sauce
2 C Espagnole sauce
½ c chicken stock
1 T truffle pairings, truffle from D'Artagnan

Reduce espagnole, stock with truffle pairings till thick then add Madeira, slowly.  Strain and use.

Espagnole Sauce

4 T butter
4 T flour
6 cups homemade beef or veal stock
2 t tomato paste


Saute butter and flour slowly over low heat until dark brown… do not burn.   Add stock and tomato paste and cook for an hour or so until slightly thickened.  Add the demiglace.  You should have around 2 to 2 1/2 cups.


***Chicken Quenelle

¼ pound chicken breast
2 T pate a choux ^
1 T butter
pinch nutmeg
S & P
2 T cream
1 egg white
2 t chopped truffle from D'Artagnan

Combine ingredients in the food processor and blend.  Put into small, well buttered molds.  Sit in a saucepan with boiling water coming up to 2/3 of the sides of the mold ( you will have a little extra).  Cook on a low heat for 10 minutes and unmold.

^Paté a Choux
1 c water
1 ounce butter
1/3 lb flour (1 ¼ c)
1 egg
2 yolks

Melt butter in water and stir in flour till well mixed and the mixture pulls away from the pan.  Remove from heat and add the eggs one at a time, stirring rapidly.  Remove what you need for the recipe and get the bonus of little puffs!  Pipe them on a parchment lined sheet pan in a 425 oven for 20  minutes.  Remove, poke with a toothpick to remove steam and cool… pop in the freezer and you can make a quick dessert any time!



Next comes the palate cleansing sorbet, “a little punch behind”.  For this I chose Maraschino Sorbet: made with lemon ice, maraschino liqueur, a little pureed sour cherry and punched with sparkling wine.

Maraschino Sorbet or Sparkling Crimson

2 c maraschino sorbet
1 bottle sparkling wine


Put a scoop of sorbet in a glass, pour sparkling wine over sorbet, stir and serve

Maraschino Sorbet

1 cup lemon ice*
1 ½ c frozen sour cherries
2 T Maraschino liqueur
1 beaten egg white (optional)

Take the lemon ice mixture and combine with cherries.  Cook for 10 minutes until cherries are cooked.  Push the contents through a fine mesh strainer, add maraschino and egg white if you choose and freeze.


*Lemon  Ice:

2 cups water
1 1/3 c sugar
½ c lemon juice
Grated rind of 2 lemons

Boil the sugar and water together and reduce  a little to a syrup.  Add the lemon juice and peel and put in the freezer.  If using in the cherry sorbet, stop before freezing.


Stay tuned for next week… squabs and Nesselrode pudding, a  chestnut ice cream with a  maraschino cream for the grand finale of the Mark Twain Dinner!!!


Thanks to Gollum for hosting Foodie Friday

Special thanks to all of the purveyors who have made my exotic dishes possible through their generosity and sharing of expertise.  I couldn't have done it without them!

and 
The Rare Wine Company ( & Mannie Berk, My Madeira patron!)

Lastly, a special mention to Ken Albala, food historian extraordinaire, who encouraged me to go to Oxford and has helped me get things right with his love and knowledge of history. 
and
Thanks to Dan Perrelli and Sarah Gim for my magical
Los Angeles weekend at Lambapalooza that made me 
feel like I had been blessed by a fairy godmother/father 
to be able to hobnob with so many passionate food and wine lovers.


Friday, November 5, 2010

Wood Pigeon in a Rare Fowl ‘Fricase' circa 1684




One of the first posts I did on this blog was about Pumpion Pye  from Robert May’s 1684 cookbook, The Accomplisht Cook.  Nearly a year later, as Lost Past Remembered approaches its first birthday, it seems a good time to revisit Mr. May.  Elizabeth David called his book “a most beautiful piece of cookery literature”.  Alan Davidson (who compiled the Oxford Companion to Food) said in his introduction to a new edition of May’s book:  “It is the most comprehensive panorama of cookery in upper-class English households of its time”.

I knew food Historian Ken Albala was a great May fan. When I told him I was attempting to make a modern version of a rather complicated May dish, he enjoined me to do it right and not to dumb-down the recipe or balk at the ingredients… ok, one ingredient… lamb’s stones.  For the uninitiated, they are lamb testicles and not easy to come by.  I was told by Catskill Merino  at Union Square, NYC (who supplied them for me with some difficulty), that they are tossed out as waste by most slaughterhouses.  What a pity.  The great chef/author Anissa Helou gushed about them on her blog and explained how to prepare them.  You know what, they are spectacular with a creamy texture not unlike sweetbreads. I am so glad that I heeded Ken’s sage advice and obtained them (and Petunia, my Saint Bernard, is crazy about the left-overs!) and made the recipe as close to the original as I could.



And what of Robert May?  His life is laid out quite thoroughly in the introduction to  The accomplisht cook - or, The art & mystery of cookery --  written when May was in his 70’s (he may have lived into his 90’s—his date of death is a little vague):

“He was born in the year of our Lord 1588. His Father being one of the ablest Cooks in his time, and his first Tutor in the knowledge and practice of Cookery; under whom having attained to some perfection in this Art, the old Lady Dormer sent him over into France, where he continued five years, being in the Family of a noble Peer, and first President of Paris; where he gained not only the French Tongue but also bettered his Knowledge in his Cookery, and returning again into England, was bound an Apprentice in London to Mr. Arthur Hollinsworth in Newgate Market, one of the ablest Work-men in London, Cook to the Grocers Hall and Star Chamber. His Apprentiship being out, the Lady Dormer sent for him to be her Cook under Father (who then served that Honourable Lady) where were four Cooks more, such Noble Houses were then kept, the glory of that, and the shame of this present Age; then were those Golden Days wherein were practised the Triumphs and Trophies of Cookery; then was Hospitality esteemed, Neighbourhood preserved, the Poor cherished, and God honoured; then was Religion less talkt on, and more practised; then was Atheism & Schism less in fashion: then did men strive to be good, rather then to seem so. Here he continued till the Lady Dormer died, and then went again to London, and served the Lord Castlehaven, after that the Lord Lumley, that great lover and knower of Art, who wanted no knowledge in the discerning this mystery; next the Lord Montague in Sussex; and at the beginning of these wars, the Countess of Kent, then Mr. Nevel of Crissen Temple in Essex, whose Ancestors the Smiths (of whom he is descended) were the greatest maintainers of Hospitality in all those parts; nor doth the present M. Nevel degenerate from their laudable examples. Divers other Persons of like esteem and quality hath he served; as the Lord Rivers, Mr. John Ashburnam of the Bed-Chambers, Dr. Steed in Kent, Sir Thomas Stiles of Drury Lane in London, Sir Marmaduke Constable in York-shire, Sir Charles Lucas; and lastly the Right Honourable the Lady Englefield, where he now liveth.”




The Dormers were great patrons, humanitarians and food lovers and May owes his career to their generosity, sending him as they did to Paris and London to broaden his horizons.   May practiced his art in kitchens like the one at Coudray House in Sussex (where he cooked beginning in 1630).  But I think his intended audience would not be his employers -- rather his professional peers.

In his preface, May acknowledged this when this he gave his reasons for writing the book: “TO you first, most worthy Artists, I acknowledg one of the chief Motives that made me to adventure this Volume to your Censures, hath been to testifie my gratitude to your experienced Society; nor could I omit to direct it to you, as it hath been my ambition, that you should be sensible of my Proficiency of Endeavours in this Art. To all honest well intending Men of our Profession, or others, this Book cannot but be acceptable, as it plainly and profitably discovers the Mystery of the whole Art; for which, though I may be envied by some that only value their private Interests above Posterity, and the publick good, yet God and my own Conscience would not permit me to bury these my Experiences with my Silver Hairs in the Grave: and that more especially, as the advantages of my Education hath raised me above the Ambitions of others, in the converse I have had with other Nations, who in this Art fall short of what I have known experimented by you my worthy Country men.”

He believed, because of the good fortune of his erudition and experience, that he had an extraordinarily rich and diverse body of work and was honor bound to share it with others so that it would not die with him.

May wrote The Accomplisht Cook or the Art & Mystery of Cooking during the Restoration. Although his cooking had roots in the English past, it was also nurtured by the cuisines of at least 3 other countries – French, Spanish and Italian (he could read in 4 languages—quite remarkable for the time). Additionally, we moderns tend to forget that through the apprentice system of the time, you could learn from someone with a direct line to recipes and techniques and stories from kitchens of the Middle Ages.  Apprenticing in 2 countries was rare.  




May drew from all of these influences as well as fresh new ones, like La Varenne’s (1615-78) 1651 cookbook, Le Cuisinier François (the first French cookbook translated into English in 1653).  He even pinched a few recipes from La Varenne and others (scholar Marcus Bell felt 8% of the recipes were ‘borrowed’ -- somewhat forgivable given the breadth of the book).   Whatever the provenance of the recipes, the vision was singular and thoroughly May’s own.




The dish that caught my eye and fancy was A Rare Fricase.   Something about the unusual combination of ingredients and his reputation made me want to see what it would be like.  In this dish, May’s use of spice was muted – with only nutmeg, mace and pepper being used and not a whole battery of exotics as had been the fashion when May began cooking.  May danced to his own,  aristocratic tune. This sauce with orange and egg has a little of the feeling of hollandaise, and it is wickedly good… he was an artist.



I was looking forward to working with pigeon after having pigeon breast in a fabulous salad in a Glastonbury, UK gastro-pub, Who’d A Thought It this summer.

As always, when I need to find something wild and wonderful, I go to D’Artagnan … in this case they had a wild Scottish Wood pigeon. Coursing through heather and Scottish forests gives it terroir on the hoof (or claw as may be).  It has the taste of place that gives it an amazing depth and flavor that a farmed bird doesn’t have. It is dark and dusky, more like venison than a bird. For my ‘peeper” I used D’Artagnan’s poussin that are only a little bigger than a chick at 3 weeks, delicate and succulent.  It’s an ebony/ivory combination.

I believe the formula would be great with Cornish hens if you can’t get the pigeon and poussin—but it’s easy to get them sent by mail from D’Artagnan. If finding ‘stones’ are a problem I understand that Middle Eastern butchers often carry them, so if you live in a large metropolitan area you may be able to find them. If you can’t, stick with sweetbreads and oysters as the fried garnishes.  Bone the pigeon as much as possible (the whole bird is the size of a baseball and the bones are very tiny - nearly like fish bones), leaving just the leg and wing attached… the breast of the pigeon is best medium-rare, over-cooking makes it ‘liverish’.  The sauce is creamy but not too thick and redolent of orange and warm spices… really lovely. 



You can try carving your orange if you wish to be authentic.  Should you make the original with 12 birds, the carved fruit would be in the center of the platter with gold leaf, “gooseberries, cockscombs, ratafia biscuits, comfits and lemon slices”, says Ken Albala.  Although there are a few steps and unusual ingredients, it really isn’t that difficult to make and the result is so satisfying… a real taste of history!




A Rare Fricase, based on Robert May’s 1684 recipe Serves 2

1 poussin  
½ c white wine
3 T cognac
1 c water
2 T salt

6T butter
1/3 pound sweetbreads, parboiled peeled and cubed* (Mine are from Grazin Angus Acres)
1 lamb testicle, peeled (there are 2 layers to peel, btw), parboiled and cubed (from Catskill Merino)
6 oysters
½ c flour
6 asparagus, sliced in half and parboiled
Marrow from 1 marrowbone, uncooked
2 T pistachios
1 c stock (lamb, beef or chicken)**
1/3 c white wine
¼ t nutmeg
Salt & pepper
¼ t mace
1 clove garlic
2 egg yolks, raw
¼ c verjus*** or wine vinegar
juice of 1orange
1 small orange, sliced or carved
1 carrot sliced decoratively for garnish
2 T sliced almonds
4 rounds of toast


Slice the birds in half.  Remove most of the bones from the pigeon and poussin leaving the leg and wing. Marinate the pigeon and the poussin in wine, water, cognac and salt for a few hours or overnight.  Remove from the brine and pat dry.  Sauté the birds in 3 T butter (a cast iron skillet works well for this) to brown over medium high heat, turn.  Cook the pigeon another 2-3 minutes over a medium flame and remove, let the chicken cook 4 more minutes then run them under a broiler, skin side up to brown for a few moments, then remove and tent (the poussin may require a little more time than the pigeon).

Flour the sweetbreads (reserve 1/3 for the sauce) oysters and lamb stones and season with salt and pepper.

Sauté the marrow, remove what remains, then add 3 T butter and the sweetbreads and oysters and lamb stone, fry till crisp and remove Set aside and keep warm.   

Sauté reserved sweetbread and pistachios.

Add stock to the pan you cooked the birds in with nutmeg, pepper, garlic, white wine, mace and let the flavors mingle.

Add egg yolks to verjus, blend, add to stock and heat gently.

When thickened, add orange juice and toss in the asparagus to warm.

Place rounds of toast on plates then place the birds on the toasts and add the oysters and sweetbreads.


Arrange the orange (sliced or carved), asparagus, pistachios and almonds about the birds.

Pour the sauce over the birds.




** I took the trimmings from the pigeon and poussin and combined them with a 1½ cups of stock and ½ a Portobello mushroom (sans gills) and cooked it for 2 hours on a very low heat then strained out the solids.

*** I did a whole post about verjus HERE . Although I love my recipe for it because it is richer and more complex… you can get the more conventional version easily online HERE,.   






 Thanks to Gollum for hosting Foodie Friday