Showing posts with label sweetbreads. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sweetbreads. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 4, 2013

For the Downton Starved –– England's Lost Houses and Creamy Sweetbreads in Pastry


The first time I saw a room that had been “abducted” from a stately English home and reconstructed in an American museum I was horrified.  I thought it personified the “ugly American" –– stealing old world treasures with new Robber Baron money. The truth wasn't that simple.  Often, there was no villain in the story, often it involved tragedy.

Sure, some stupidly wealthy Americans bought rooms from desperate lords – ripped them out of family houses and carted them away, “Hey, love what you’ve done with the place, what will you take for it?” –– but many individuals and museums came to the rescue when houses were burned and/or about to be demolished for lack of funds or interest. For every Lord Grantham struggling to save Downton and the family heritage, there's a Lord who's sick of all the trouble and crippling expense.


Think of the Cassiobury Staircase at the Metropolitan Museum of Art –– it could have been firewood.

Stairs in the original Cassiobury house, Country Life Photo 1910


The 1922 sale at Cassiobury went on for 10 days with 2,606 items. (by the 6th day, £27,987 had been raised). The Met and Chicago’s Art Institute divided up the Grinling Gibbon’s carvings with Luton Hoo.

The house was demolished in 1927 but not before “300 tons of old oak: 100 very fine old oak beams and 10,000 Tudor period bricks” were removed and sold to build or restore other homes (including a new Cassiobury in Bedford NY). Evidently trade in house parts has its own long tradition beginning at least in 1682 when Nonesuch Palace was stripped for parts. A great article in Country Seat tells the tale of many famous house dismemberments noting that in 1900, Country Life Magazine was listing rooms and parts of rooms available for purchase to add authentic parts to newly constructed Gothic and Tudor palaces. There’s a great book by curator John Harris on the subject of moving the rooms, aptly called –– Moving Rooms (the Guardian wrote about the book HERE).

On top of that a book by John Martin Robinson's poignantly titled, Felling the Ancient Oaks: How England Lost its Great Country Estates came out last year. It recorded the demise of great estates that were often replaced by office parks, subdivisions,  highways and golf courses.

All this came to light when I got a copy of England's Lost Houses.

I was lost for days. The Guardian said of the book, “‘This grave compilation of Country Life photographs of great houses, burned, stripped, wrecked, demolished and otherwise ruined since 1900 feels like an illustrated supplement to English fiction, high and low, over the same period… Haunting.”

 I loved this book.

Hovingham Hall, 1994 Country Life

No wonder –– the author, Giles Worsley (1961-2006), was an architectural writer, critic and former editor of Country Life. He was also “to the manor born”, being the 2nd son of a Baron and nephew to the Duchess of Kent who grew up in the not too shabby Hovingham Hall. Tragically, he died of cancer at 44. In that short time he accomplished quite a bit. After Eton and Oxford he got his PhD at the Courtauld Institute of Art (also attended by Vincent Price who I wrote about HERE). In his short life he wrote prodigiously with fine works on Regency Drawing, Inigo Jones and a highly respected work,  Classical Architecture in Britain: The Heroic Age that I have on my Christmas list.

Hovingham Hall, 1994 Country Life

Hovingham Hall, 1994 Country Life

The Guardian obituary wrote, “Worsley faced his final days without fear or self-pity, with quiet and determined courage and with a gentle, tender solicitude for those he loved. He died far, far too young; but he had accomplished more than many achieve who are granted twice his mortal span. He will be buried today at Hovingham, the place which, along with his forebears and his family, was the abiding inspiration of his wholly admirable life.”

The book is so fine because of his bred-in-the-bone connection to these houses  –– that and his access to the astonishing collection of photos from Country Life’s archives (available online, bless them).

The sad fact is nearly 1/3 of the great houses of England have been destroyed –– some with nary a trace. Since 1900, at least 1,200 homes have been lost –– why?  Worsley wrote,  “The answer seems obvious, at least in folk memory. High taxation, and above all death duties, coupled with the tragic loss of aristocratic heirs in two world wars, forced all too many landed families to sell their estates, leading to a wave of country-house demolitions that could, and should, have been prevented if only the Government had acted sooner.”

In 1955 alone, 38 houses were demolished. Depressed agricultural markets, fires, wars and profligacy also contributed to the demise of the great English house.

Rufford Abbey ruins today

People often put up quite a fight to save them but houses like Rufford Abbey lost in the end –– it was mostly demolished in 1956. The “Town and Country Planning Act” of 1947 could not save it (it began listing important properties and required them to announce demolition plans but their funds went to new developement). First estimates were a post-war fortune –– £60,000 for repairs –– but the Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings (founded by William Morris in 1877) thought the figure could be as little as an emergency £400 with £11,750 to take care of the worst of the problems.

The house was certainly worth of saving. For one, it was ancient –– the oldest part of the house dated from 1146. For another, it was in a great location in the heart of Sherwood Forest. Because of that, after the abbey’s dissolution in 1536,  Rufford was used as a hunting lodge for hundreds of years. The downside was that it was huge, rambling because of centuries of add-ons and in terrible shape. In the end, the government wouldn't spend the money to save a wreck that was too far gone.  Postwar rebuilding took precedence over saving old houses.


Rufford Abbey, before being demolished 1956
Rufford Abbey exterior

Famous architect Anthony Salvin (who I wrote about HERE) carried out renovations in the mid 19th century (he specialized in Tudor-ish renovations) but that upgrade wasn't enough. The Saville family used it infrequently and sold it before WWII (during which it was used as a base for civil defense). The medieval and some of the 17th century parts of the house attached to them were saved (and still can be seen today) but the rest fell to the wrecking ball. It was a great tragedy.


Rufford Abbey Interior, Country Life, 1903
Rufford Abbey Interior, Country Life, 1903

Rufford Abbey Interior, Country Life, 1903

Although never in danger of demolition, the Downton Abbey house, 
Highclere,  has had to struggle to stay afloat and in family hands. With an annual maintenance cost in the many millions, its future looked dim until the overwhelming success of the television program brought fame and fortune (they were set to sell off land to pay expenses, upper rooms in the house were falling apart). Estates supported by hefty fortunes are more secure because of additional attractions, like a game park at Longleat and thriving stores and restaurants at Chatsworth that lure tourists who in turn pour fresh money into the ancient family coffers. House tours alone would not give as plump a revenue stream. Now many of the great houses are owned by various trusts with the proviso that the family can stay there.  Most families can no longer afford to maintain them on their own.

It wasn’t until the “Town and Country Planning Act” of 1968 that the destruction came to an end (the previous 1947 act had no “teeth” and insufficient funds to pay for repairs). After that, owners had to seek permission to demolish their holdings and often aid could be found to repair or to bring it into the National Trust, English Heritage or other such organizations. Light was shone on the issue too with a remarkable 'Destruction of the Country House' exhibition, held at the Victoria and Albert Museum in 1974. People became aware of the plight of the old houses and money was raised both publicly and privately to do something about it.

I think it is a fine thing that house visits can be thought of as fun and enlightening – unlike say a family visit to a theme park. Instead of padding a corporation’s bottom line you contribute to maintaining and restoring national history.  It is heartening that a few hundred years from now, our legacy will not only be ruins of shoddy housing and plastic toys (although sad if that is all that will ever be produced from now on –– almost all of our great modern architecture will not survive for centuries).

The end of the book has a graveyard of demolished houses listing their date of death –– it's remarkably moving. That many families lost their heritage or died out contributes to the sense of loss and sadness one has when reading it. There are 60 or so houses in the book.  Many of the stories are fascinating –– here are a few of the Lost Houses to whet your appetite:

Park Hall in Shropshire was destroyed by fire in 1918:

Park Hall

Park Hall, Country Life 1905

Park Hall, Country Life 1905


Nuthall Temple, one of the finest Rococo interiors in Britain, went up in flames in 1929


Nuthall Temple, Country Life, 1923

Nuthall Temple, Country Life, 1923

Beaudesert had a sour fate.



Its young owner, the 5th Marquess of Anglesey was known as “the dancing Marquess. His mad ways and incredible spending habits went through a huge fortune in a few years throwing insane parties for his pals like Oscar Wilde and buying a king’s ransom in jewels for his fanciful self-adornment. He died at 30 in 1905 but his enormous debts (£544,000 – more like £30,000,000. today) left the ancient family’s finances in tatters. The house was sold for debts and demolished in 1935 after the fittings had been sold.

Henry Cyril Paget, 5th Marquess of Anglesey


All that remains of Beaudesert ––


Weald Hall was featured in Country Life 3 times in 1897, 1905 and 1914. The house was owned by the Tower family from 1759 until it was demolished in 1951 –– the owner wanted to move to a sunnier clime. Originally a Tudor house, part of it had been remodeled in the early 18th century and then the dining room was done by Robert Adam in 1778. Worsley noted (but did not show) that the first 2 Country Life features showed a thoroughly Tudor house with no hint of its Georgian character. The last, 1914 showing, had no hint of its Tudor past.

Weald Hall 1914 Country Life
Weald Hall 1914 Country Life

Weald Hall 1914 Country Life

You will just have to buy the book to see more but for all of you who love history and houses, this is the book for you.

What to make to honor the old world? I decided to make something I’ve been wanting to do for ages. It’s an Old World dish that has fallen out of fashion but used to be on many a fine dinner table, –– sweetbreads in pastry.  It’s one of those recipes I tried eating at a very fancy French restaurant when I was young, it seemed terribly brave and sophisticated. The waiter's fractured-French/English explanation of what part of the cow it was eluded me but one part of the description stayed with me and still holds true –– imagine a scallop that’s not from the sea. Don’t be afraid of them. Although they take a bit of work –– they need to be soaked and weighed down the day before to get the sublime texture – after that they cook in a minute. You will be amazed at the result.  I got incredible sweetbreads from my friends at D'Artagnan –– they are the best.

My recipe was inspired by many great 19th century chefs from Escoffier to Queen Victoria's own chef, Francatelli (he did a recipe with the creamed and fried sweetbreads together sweetly titled Epigramme of Sweetbreads).  To add another recipe to my D'Artagnan sauce series, I thought I would use an Allemande sauce (velouté with a cream and egg yolk liason) for my base and add truffles for added luxury. The savory sautéed mushrooms add a great counterpoint to the creamy dish. Although you can buy puff pastry, you can make my favorite recipe with duck fat for added flavor.

Remember, sweetbreads do not keep.  Get them frozen or make them soon after you get them.

The end result –– delicately textured sweetbreads perfumed with truffle and madeira in a crisp pastry. After some prep (the pastry, sweetbreads and sauces can be made the day before), it can be thrown together in no time for a dinner party.  It doesn't get better than this.

For a toast, a special cocktail, perfect for the holiday –– a warm pomegranate drink with a creamy, honeyed frankincense froth using Aftelier Frankinsence essence. The result is brilliant and tastes like Christmas.


Sweetbreads Vol-au-vent, serves 6-8

1 pound D'Artagnan sweetbreads (recipe follows)
2 T D'Artagnan truffle butter or butter
1/4 c chopped mushrooms
1 large shallot, chopped
s&p to taste
1/2 t thyme
2 - 3 T madeira ( I used Rare Wine Company's Boston Bual with a little 1903 D'Oliveira Bual at the end -wow)
2 c Allemande sauce (recipe follows)
sliced D'Artagnan truffles (optional)
1 egg, beaten
1 c breadcrumbs (seasoned with thyme, s&p, cayenne)
1/4 c clarified butter
sauteéd mushrooms  (recipe follows)

Divide the sweetbreads.  Take the largest pieces (about 1/3) and keep for frying. Chop the rest into small-ish pieces (unless you are making large pastries and it doesn't matter).

Heat the butter in a skillet and add the shallot and chopped mushrooms.  Sauté till cooked and add the smaller sweetbread pieces. Cook for a few minutes and add the thyme and madeira.   Add the Allemande sauce and warm -- do not boil or the egg will curdle.  Keep covered and warm.

Take the larger pieces of sweetbread and dip in egg.  Roll in bread crumbs.  Dip in some of the clarified butter and roll in breadcrumbs again.  Fry in the clarified butter till brown.

Put the creamed sweetbreads in the cases.  Top with some truffle slices. Put the sauteed mushrooms on the plate with the fried sweetbreads and some of the sauce if you would like and serve.


Sweetbreads

1 lb sweetbreads
1 t salt

Soak the sweetbreads for an hour in water and drain well (some people like to do this in milk -- if so rinse them well before proceeding).

Put sweetbreads in water to cover.  Heat water to a bare simmer.  Turn off the heat and let the smaller piece of sweetbread stay in for 5-7 minutes and the larger one 10 - 15 minutes (check to see if they are ready - don't let them get rubbery).  Remove and cool.  Take the transparent membranes off the sweetbread (you can see the technique on the first 10 minutes of this video on YouTube). Put the sweetbreads on a plate, put another plate on top of it and weigh it down with heavy cans or bricks.  Refrigerate over night.

Velouté

3 T butter
3 T flour (sifted)
2 cup warm stock (chicken, duck or traditionally veal)
s&p to taste

Melt the butter, add the flour and stir over a low heat to cook the flour.  Do not let it color.  Add the stock slowly, stirring constantly.  When it is all mixed in, cook over medium heat for 15 minutes.
Strain.

Allemande Sauce

2 cups Velouté
1/4 c heavy cream
1 egg yolk
small squeeze lemon juice to taste

Combine the cream and egg.  Pour some of the warm velouté into the egg mixture and then pour that back into the rest of the velouté



Sauteéd Mushrooms

About 1 cup, sliced mixed mushrooms (D'Artagnan has a great mix HERE
1-2 T D'Artagnan truffle butter or butter
2-3 T demi-glace
pinch of thyme
splash of cognac
small squeeze of lemon juice
salt and pepper to taste

Saute the mushrooms in the butter.  Add the rest of the ingredients.



Puff Paste with Duck Fat (this is enough for 12-16 shells, you can half the recipe or freeze what's left)

Butter layer

1 lb + 3 ½ T (510g) cold unsalted butter (I love Irish butter for this)
2 t (10 ml Lemon juice
1 c (130g) bread flour
pinch of salt

Dough

3 c (400 g) bread flour (freeze it)
3 ½ T (55g) duck fatfrozen)
1- 1 1/2 t Salt
1 c cold water (start with 3/4 and add as needed, you may not need a whole cup)

egg wash

Mix the butter and the flour and lemon and salt into a paste, make a 6” square and chill on wax paper till firm

Make the dough as you would pasta, knead very sparingly and refrigerate.

Make the dough into a rectangle and put the butter in the center in a diamond... fold the dough around it like an envelope, bringing the 4 outer points to the center of the butter.   If it’s hot, chill. Otherwise roll it to a rectangle and fold it like a brochure and chill ½ an hour. Roll it out to a rectangle again and do it again 5 times, resting for 45 minutes to an hour in the fridge each time.

I left mine overnight after the last turn and rolled it out the next day. After cutting my rounds, I put it back in the fridge for an hour

Then you are ready to go!!!

Preheat the oven to 425º. Cut 3 1/2-inch rounds from the pastry. Cut a 2-inch circle in the center of each round. Do not twist and turn the dough. If you do you will lose your loft on the pastry. The cleaner the movement, the higher the pastry will rise.  Collect the rest of the pastry and roll out.  Cut
another round to match the first. Paint the bottom round with egg wash and prick with a fork.  Put the ring on top, matching the pattern if it has one.  Put egg wash on top of pastry being very careful not to spill it over the side –– it will keep the pastry from rising.

Bake on a parchment-lined baking sheet for 10 minutes with a buttered piece of parchment on top of the pastries—this helps them rise straight… don’t ask me how. Remove the top parchment and continue to bake 10 - 15 more minutes after turning the heat down to 375º or until puffed and golden.  Put on a rack and put back in the oven with the heat off and the door ajar.  This dries them out nicely.

*There's a great site with a tutorial on making vol-au-vents HERE



Warm Pomegranate Rum Cup for 4

1/2 c cream
2 T honey
10 - 12 drops Aftelier Frankincense essence or to taste
4 oz dark rum
2 cups pomegranate juice, warmed

Whip the cream.  Add the frankincense to a dish and then add the cream the honey –– do this to taste.  You can start with 4 or 5. I liked 12, it is not overpowering. Add the rum to the pomegranate juice. Put the cream on top of warm pomegranate juice and serve.


Tis the season to give to WIKIPEDIA.  All of us who write use it.  They don't make much money, they do it for love, donate, won't you?  Just click HERE to do it.


Tis the season for giving these great madeiras to your favorite cook, I love this stuff and use them in
everything.  Click HERE or ask for them at your favorite wine merchant.  For something special, I love their vintage madeiras too.  They are magic in food and last forever.





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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.