Friday, August 12, 2011

Knole House, The Sofa and Beef and Lamb Sausage Pie in Paste Royale


The original 17th c. Knole sofa

You may ask, why is a sofa the first thing you see on a food blog?   Well….

Before I began writing about food I spent 20 years as a film designer and furniture plays a part in that life… a rather big part.  Added to that, I have been an antique lover most of my life, buying my first piece when I was 16 (it was a small, late 17th c cabinet on stand that I still own –– referred to as ‘baby monster’ because of its long legs, carved with pagan designs that always made it look like it could walk away if it wanted to!).  Some pieces just speak to me… like the Knole sofa.

I have dreamed of owning a Knole sofa forever it seems, since the first time I laid eyes on a 19th century beauty with an 18th century tapestry back when I was still a teenager.

a 19th c. version of what I had in mind for myself with finials and cords from Lucy Johnson, Burford, England

I came close to getting one once, a real giant of a thing from an old Park Avenue palace –– but the realization that I could not get it into my 5th floor loft via the elevator-from-hell or the twisty stairs left only the odious crane option (discussed before vis-à-vis a giant AGA stove)… so, no sofa –– sigh.

I finally saw the holy grail of Knole sofas at Knole Castle a few weeks ago. Odd thing is, I could have sworn I’d seen ‘the original’ before –– in my brain it was a soft green and quite long. The surprise was that the real McCoy was tiny and red and the design was definitely a prototype of what was to come. The lovely finials and cords that I thought were original to the classic Knole sofa were a later addition –– but no matter –– here I was, feet away from the origin of my hearts desire.  And I felt the love in so many ways.

Let’s be fair, there is so much more to Knole than the little red sofa, and I enjoyed every inch of the place.  The house holds centuries of acquisitions but the happy circumstance of the 3rd Earl being the King’s chamberlain in the 17th century and a marriage to Frances Cranfield (Frances’ father Lionel, Earl of Middlesex had been treasurer to James the 1st) by the 5th Earl led to an enormous transfer of discarded royal furnishings.  Many came from Copt Hall  to Knole (Copt hall is now a beautiful ruin).  The permission to take the royal goodies was a perk of the positions and many great pieces came as part of the deal.  These fine core pieces give a strong spine and heart to the interior landscape of the place.

Knole by Derry Moore, 1985

Make no mistake, because of a family’s distinctive personality and evolution, Knole is one of the great houses of England. It’s not just about having pots of money.  There is a spirit that you feel here, forged in the culture of the Tudors and the Renaissance that lives within the walls and animates the spaces.  I love the confidence and the sense of quiet exuberance in  the house’s decorations. The National Trust book on the house quotes Vita Sackville-West when she said that Knole  “has a deep inward gaiety of some very old woman who has always been beautiful, who has had many lovers and seen many generations come and go…. It is above all, an English home…. It has the tone of England: it melts into the green of the garden turf, into the tawnier green of the park beyond, into the blue of the pale English sky.”  If I may say, Vita nailed it.

As those who visit here often know, this blog is as much about people, places, decoration and time as it is about food and they are wholly integrated in my mind. Culture informs the kitchen, doesn’t it? I’d like to think of history as part of the environment of the eating experience –– from food to plate to place to personality to time. Think of it as another kind of terroir… the ground from which the cuisine springs.   Knole Palace is a great repository of history, art, architecture and furniture thanks to the remarkable Sackville family who has lived there for centuries and lives there still. 

Thomas Sackville 1st Earl of Dorset (1536-1608)


Thomas Sackville leased Knole beginning in 1570, and purchased it in 1605. Sackville began making glorious improvements and additions to the dilapidated house using the finest royal craftsmen in 1604.  The house was already hundreds of years old when Sackville’s renovations began.  The estate was begun in the reign of King John (1166-1216), bought in 1456 by Cardinal Bourchier (the oldest remaining parts of the house are from his tenancy) and ran through a few famous owners including Henry VIII and Elizabeth I before it fell into Sackville’s hands.  It has 365 rooms, 52 staircases and 7 courtyards–– for this reason it is called a calendar house.  You really can’t conceive how big it is even when you are there.

Early 18th c view of Knole
1922 photograph from Vita Sackville-West’s book on the house Knole and the Sackvilles

even my wide angle lens can’t contain it!

There’s a lot to love about the house… beginning with the famous staircase and the notorious life-size statue of the 3rd Duke’s nude mistress Giovanna Baccelli at its base.

The staircase is a great favorite of mine.  I am a huge fan of grisaille.  I can imagine colorfully costumed guests and hosts being beautifully set off against the quiet grays and beiges as they descend the stairs –– even with the ebullient design of the paint patterns, the whimsical trompe-l’oeil stair railing echoing the real one  –– it would provide an elegant background –– the architecture’s twists and turns are more visually arresting and idiosyncratic than a grand wide path that was soon to become the fashion for staircases. I love the reveals of the angles.  Derry Moore captures the staircase beautifully (once again, I encourage you to buy his book, In House his photos are inspirational… you can glimpse them on his website  ).


Knole stairway by Derry Moore, 1985
The Sackville Leopard photograph from Glenister 1936
Derry Moore photograph
Giovanna Baccelli, the dancer/mistress of the 3rd Duke of Dorset  1949 Photograph 
3rd Duke of Dorset, John Frederick Sackville by Reynolds (1745-99)
Cartoon Gallery, Derry Moore photograph 1985

I do love the grand public rooms but here the bedrooms really captured my heart… quiet elegance and subtle tones … I was crazy about them.

In Orlando, Virginia Woolfe said of the Venetian ambassador’s bedroom “ The room… shone like a shell that has lain at the bottom of the sea for centuries and has been crusted over and painted a million tints by the water, it was rose and yellow, green and sand colored. It was frail as a shell, as iridescent and as empty.”

The Venetian Ambassador’s Bedroom (1730)



Lady Betty Germain’s Bedroom, late 17th c with a very important carpet of the same vintage – it was my favorite.

The Kings Room, 17th C. (the bed curtains once had a brilliant red lining that disintegrated and was lost – 13 years were spent restoring the rest of glorious fabric)

So, after all this, how did they eat?

The original dining room… now ballroom




The ‘family’ dining room, with the gorgeous mermaid frieze of masterful carvings by William Portington, has become the Ballroom but the Great Hall is a pretty spectacular venue for dining and had been used for large dinners since the house was built.  It has seen banquets we can only imagine.

The Great Hall from 1920’s watercolor in Historic English Interiors 

The Knole booklet, published by The National Trust, recounts directives for a 3 July, 1636 banquet:

“To perfume the room often in the meal with orange flower water upon a hot pan.  To have fresh bowls in every corner and flowers tied upon them, and sweet briar, stock, gilly-flowers, pinks, wall-flowers and any other sweet flowers in glasses and pots in every window and chimney.”

The menu for the banquet involved 2 courses of 33 dishes each!

Knole’s banquet inspired me to go with a recipe from May’s Accomplisht Cook since May would have been active in the kitchen in 1636.  I can imagine the Sackvilles and their guests loving May’s dishes and imagine further that something like them would have been served at that very banquet.

Great hall by Glenister, 1936
19th century dining at Knole

This is the last 17th century recipe I’m going to share for a while, but it’s a doozy – really does befit one the grandest houses in England.  I’ve been eyeing the recipe for the pie crust called Paste Royale for sometime… I really wanted to know what it tasted like and finally took the plunge.  Although it can be made with rosewater, I used my favorite rose from Aftelier.  It also had ambergris and saffron…. it was divinely good… just by itself… even raw! It perfumes your mouth when you eat it.  You can do it without the exotic ambergris, of course, but I wanted to try it with all the bells and whistles just this once. I encourage you to try it too. The meat is delicious with the delicate acidity of the verjus and the sweetness of reduced orange (although from what I understand, oranges of the day were not sweet).  The saffron makes the crust nearly glow a warm gold … it is really a dish for a King … or at the least a Duke!



Steak Pies the French Way inspired by The Accomplisht Cook

½ pound filet mignon, NY strip or rib-eye—any well-marbled meat, cubed and partially frozen
½ t nutmeg
½ t salt
½ t pepper

½ pound ground lamb
¼ cup combination of parsley, marjoram, rosemary, sage, thyme, hyssop, pennyroyal, marigold leaves chopped
2 T raisins
12 sage leaves
2 egg yolks or 1 egg
2 T cream
1/3 c bread crumbs
2 T suet, lard or butter
½ c verjuice
1 c orange juice, reduced to ½ c


Season steak with pepper nutmeg and salt and allow to rest

Add chopped parsley, marjoram, rosemary, sage, thyme hyssop, pennyroyal, marigold leaves, raisins and egg yolks, cream, bread crumbs to the lamb and blend.  Make into meat balls.

Brown the meat and then the meatballs. 

Heat the oven to 375º


Cool and put them, put the beef back in the freezer for ½ an hour to keep the meat from overcooking and then put them both in the pie. Add the verjuice to the pan juices and pour over the meat in the pie. 

Cover with crust lid.  I tried to make the pie free standing and the butter crust didn’t have the stability of the suet crust I had used for chewetts. I recommend putting it into an 8” removable bottom pan to give support or put a role of foil around it in a larger round pan.  You could fit the lid on the pie or do it as I have done leaving open spaces… you will need to pour the orange juice into the pie so however you do it you need to have large vents to pour the juice

Bake the pie for 45 minutes. Fry sage leaves in butter. Carefully remove the top (if it attached) and add the sage leaves and orange juice



Paste Royale

1 ½ c white flour
½ c wholewheat flour
2 T ground almonds (put the saffron with the almonds to blend)
hefty pinch of saffron—rounded ¼ teaspoon?
1 t salt
2 t sugar
10 T butter, frozen
1/8 t cinnamon
pea sized piece ambergris, grated (optional) you can get it at Ambergris Co. NZ
2 drops Aftelier rose absolute or 2 t rosewater

¼ c cream
1 egg yolk
 up to ¼ c water

Put the first ingredients in a food processor and pulse till roughly blended.  Add the cream and egg yolk and pulse.   Add enough water to make the mass come together (I like to do this with a fork, removing the blade… more control that way).  Grab 8 or so fist fulls and place on well-floured parchment.  Smear each one flat and stack.  Press into a round and refrigerate for a few hours.

* Sadly, no photographs are allowed inside the house so I couldn’t chronicle the million gorgeous details that I saw that were lost in the big, overview photographs that I found – even if they were great photos.  All the interior photos are from Knole literature, magazines or books.

Friday, August 5, 2011

Chastleton House, The Gunpowder Plot and Chicken Sausage with Artichoke Hearts

Chastleton

Although I love stomping around football stadium size houses, there’s a lot to be said for smaller quieter houses steeped in lore.  Like the simple Manor House at Dethick, Chastleton was also touched by a grand intrigue and caught my eye when I saw the Fettiplace name attached to it (and my visit was sealed when I saw that it had a 17th c kitchen that had barely been touched for 400 years!).

In this case, the estate on which the house was built (between 1603 -11) was purchased by Walter Jones from Robert Catesby, the mastermind behind the conspiracy called the Gunpowder Plot of 1605 (a lesser conspirator, Guy Fawkes, became far better known for some reason).   Catesby sold the estate shortly before the plot after taking part in the Essex Rebellion (he was a bad boy, but much loved and admired) and bought his head or at the very least avoided imprisonment by paying an enormous 4,000 marks (£6 million in 21st century terms). This involved selling most of his assets, including Chastleton to come up with the tariff.

James the 1st by John de Critz, 1606

Princess Elizabeth, Daughter of James I

His anger at the monarchy’s treatment of Catholics (Elizabeth I was especially intolerant) led to his creation of the Gunpowder Plot that sought to put James I’s 9 year old daughter Elizabeth on the throne as a Catholic Queen.   I wrote about her HERE, and came to be very fond of her the more I knew of her.  She was to become Elizabeth of Bohemia, much loved by Lord Craven.  Craven was a Royalist who defended her and her family with his enormous wealth.  He was not ruined by the Commonwealth and was in fact well rewarded by the restored monarchy… unlike the Jones’s.

Walter Jones

Walter Jones was also a Royalist.  He was fined, ruinously, for his support of the monarchy.  The family never recovered financially and that is one of the reasons the house remains so untouched and gorgeous.  Basic repairs, as opposed to renovations, were all the family could manage in the 400 years they lived there.

When Chastleton was first opened to the public in the 1940’s, descendant Irene Whitmore-Jones would explain the distressed condition of the estate by telling visitors the family had lost its money in the war.  The visitors were sympathetic until they realized she meant the 17th century Civil War, not WW I or II!

Anne Fettiplace

Before the Civil War reduced their circumstances, the Joneses did rather well in the wool trade.   Jones had married well by marrying Eleanor Pope, a Maid of honor to Queen Elizabeth and niece of Sir Thomas Pope.  Their son Henry married Anne Fettiplace whose family I’ve talked about HERE (yes, they are all related, aren’t they?) in 1609.

Aside from the financial pains inflicted by the Civil War, Walter’s grandson, Arthur fought for the king and after the loss at the Battle of Worcester, fled to Chastleton to hide in a secret room.  The Roundhead soldiers soon followed and demanded to be fed and billeted after finding Arthur’s exhausted mount at the house. Arthur’s heroic and brilliant wife, Sarah, drugged the men and when they were thoroughly asleep, she retrieved her husband from under their sleeping noses.  Arthur escaped from his hiding place and got well away from his persecutors on one of their own horses.

The door to the Priest’s hole is in the corner… the door would have been invisible in the 17th century.

The interior of the priest’s hole where Arthur hid away

Until Cromwell’s unfortunate fines, the Jones’s had money to build the house and buy some rather lovely tapestries.  It seems the Sheldons,  friends of Walters’  owned the prosperous and respected Barcheston Tapestry Works.  They also married into the Jones family.  To celebrate the match, the Sheldon arms are carved above the fireplace (this seems like a habit –– the Joneses honored 2 advantageous marriages with extravagant mantle carvings).  



You walk into the first hall (the servants would eat below originally, the lords at the slightly raised dais). 



In addition to the hall, there was the rather new innovation… the dining room.  This was cutting edge at the time –– smaller and more intimate (and less drafty) than the great halls of ages past.  It is a lovely room with a simple ‘wedding cake’ ceiling… much of the plasterwork in the house is first rate.

I loved this reception room and the even more impressive wood and plasterwork


The bedrooms are austere but handsome.



 This one is called the Fettiplace Bedroom celebrating an auspicious marriage


Fettiplace arms on the fireplace

another great ceiling


Sheldon Room

Sheldon coat of arms over the fireplace


At the top of the house is the exercise room, wonderful fun with another great ceiling.  Here the inhabitants would dance and play badminton in hard weather.






even the window bays have lovely wrap-around plasterwork

I think the scale and the accessibility make the place so special, that and the National Trust staff…Nicola Dyer who helped me with my visit the wonderful and amazing Neil Ions who answered my questions as I toured the house and shared stories about Chastleton (click HERE for information on visiting).  

But wait, what about the kitchen??  Glad you asked.  The kitchen caught my eye when it was mentioned that the ceiling hadn’t been cleaned since the 17th century (a bad luck thing) and honestly, it doesn’t look like much has changed there save the stove… and that’s way over a century old.



I won’t lie, I would sell my firstborn for that kitchen… even in the state its in (well, maybe a fridge would be helpful).  The pewter plates on the original cupboard, that crazy stove… all of it is wonderful.

  
Even the floor, burnished for 400 years, is remarkable.

It’s not hard to tell, I’m really in a 17th century state of mind these days.  After reading old cookbooks last week, I saw so many recipes I just had to try.  I’m so glad I did.

This chicken recipe from Robert May’s Accomplisht Cook really grabbed me.  I didn’t feel like boning and stuffing a chicken so I used chicken breast and made sausages… to me it was all about the really wonderful seasonings and those berries with the artichokes.  It sounds a bit weird but the combination really works.  I was really stunned to see parmesan cheese in this recipe … I imagine it was terribly exotic at the time.  I think you will be surprised at how good it is… the sauce is fabulous.





Chicken Sausage with Artichokes, inspired by Accomplisht Cook (serves 2)

7 ½ oz chicken breast
3 strips of bacon (4 if you skip the suet)
2 T suet
1 hard-cooked egg yolk
2 T parmesan cheese
¼ t mace
1/8 t cloves
2 T chopped fresh herbs (sage, rosemary, marjoram, thyme, parsley—what you can find)
½ t sugar
½ t salt
½ t pepper

2 T suet, lard or butter

2 c chicken broth
2 slices of onion, ½” thick
¼ t saffron
2 T parmesan cheese
1 T chopped fresh herbs
1 cup gooseberries or currants or grapes
4 artichoke hearts, cooked
8 navets (small turnips) cooked
4 slices of good bread, toasted.

Grind the meats, eggs, herbs and spices together.  Put in casings, wrap in chicken skin or roll as is into sausage shapes.

Brown the sausages in lard or suet with the onion.  Remove the sausages and cook the onion until softened, put the sausages back in the pan.  Pour 2 cups broth in the pan.  Add the saffron and artichoke hearts and turnips if you would like and cook a few minutes until the sausage is cooked and the vegetables are hot. Add the berries/grapes and warm.  Add the parmesan and herbs.

Serve with the artichoke hearts and turnips with the sauce poured over all and the sliced bread.



How about a drink?  My great colleague and beverage historian David Solmonson over at 12 Bottle Bar  is hosting a little drink party on August 15th on  and I am getting a head start (but honestly, do I really need an excuse to share a drink??? I think not!).  Since he wanted us to be inspired by the unusual… my inspiration comes in the unusual florals of the julep and the ice inspiration comes from Superman’s Fortress of Solitude… curious bedfellows to be sure but… well there you go!

As I said, Chastleton had Fettiplace ties as a Jones married advantageously into the Fettiplace family.  I wrote about Elinor Fettiplace and her charming personal cookbook HERE.  It was so unusual at the time to have done a book like this.  She was educated and came from a family that prized literacy in the women in the family… extremely rare at the time (she had been married into the Fettiplace family as well… her family had the money, the Fettiplaces had the pedigree).   That her book remained in the family for over 400 years is even more remarkable.  It gave a sort of time capsule to an upper middleclass way of life that was not as well chronicled as the lives of the aristocracy. 

It seems Elinor was a good woman who cared for the sick and gave to the poor and took good care of her household as well (and lived to be 80… quite an accomplishment in those days).  I couldn’t leave Chastleton without sharing Elinor’s julepp recipe that was considered a restorative at the time (and the citrus would have been quite a healthy treat).  Yes, that’s right, a julep recipe.  We think of juleps as an American invention.  We imagine them to be 19th century or later but here’s a 17th century julep recipe that is just delicious.  I would have been leery about barley water, but my friend Julianne, who is a drink alchemist, shared oatmeal vodka with me (inspired by no less than Thomas Keller) and it was delicious.  Barley water, when sweetened is delightful.

I imagine her Fettiplace cousins enjoying it at Chastleton House of a hot summer evening before Civil War would change their lives and fortunes forever.

"Take a quart of ffrench barly water, and put thereto of the sirrop of bleuw violets 2 ownces, Red rosewater 4 spoonefulls, the juce of 2 limondes, sirop of the juce of citrons 2 ownces, stir all these together, and when you are dry or in yo’ burninge heate drinke 2 or 3 spoonefulls at a time, as oft as you please"


Fettiplace Citrus Julepp for 2

1 cup barley water*
½ ounce violet syrup or jelly
1 T rosewater or 1 drop Aftelier Rose Essence
juice of ½ a lemon
½ ounce citron syrup**
2 oz rum (or white wine or club soda -- this should be done to taste)

mint, pennyroyal*** and citrus slices for garnish

Freeze mint, pennyroyal or citrus in ice.

Combine the barley water, violet syrup, rosewater and citrus juice and syrup.  Allow to sit for a few hours or overnight to meld the flavors.  Muddle some pennyroyal/mint, add the cubes to the glass.  Pour in the mixture and add the rum/wine to taste)

Put ice into a glass, add a few tablespoons of the syrup and pour in your alcohol or soda to taste.


*Barley water can be made by rinsing 3 T pearl barley. Then cook it in 1 quart of water for 10 minutes with 3 T sugar.  Cool it then strain it.

** This can be made by cooking and pureeing candied citron peel if you have it or combining citron juice (if you can find it) or lime juice and simple syrup.  I pureed 1T candied citron after boiling it in ¼ c water and put it through a strainer.  I added the juice of ½ a lime.

***Pennyroyal in large quantities can be harmful.  Never use pennyroyal oil which is high in the metabolite menthofuran.  You can read about it HERE.  In the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, Demeter drinks  Kykeon, a drink made from barley, pennyroyal and water.  Pennyroyal tea is used for colds and upset stomachs.  It is not recommended for pregnant women and children.

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