Thursday, March 14, 2013

Le Menagier de Paris and Cameline Sauce for the Birds


1480 Netherlandish brass plate–– a popular joke of a woman spanking a man MMA Collection.

Le Menagier de Paris is a favorite book of mine (written 1392-4). I wrote about it a little bit HERE when I shared a delicious, so-good-you-want-to-drink-it rose-scented orange and wine sauce for duck –– an early bigarade that was mentioned in Le Menagier’s recipe section.

The book has a sizable collection of menus and 380-odd recipes – recipes that are more like sketches than what we are used to. It is mostly a book written by an old man instructing his very young wife about how to take care of her new household and husband. In a recent translation of The Good Wife's Guide (Le Ménagier de Paris): A Medieval Household Book Gina Greco and Christine Rose say that the book, “… advances from dictating the inner life of her soul to dictating her outward behavior, and thence to the manner in which the wife’s household reflects her regulated nature, which in turn reflect well on the husband. However genial the narrator’s tone may be in places, his moral and domestic tuition infantilizes the woman and reifies her as a sort of domestic animal in need of obedience training and surveillance…” In truth, a man could punish or kill his wife for displeasing him in any way. She was no better than his horse or dog.

Ouch.

The 1480 spanking plate was a brassy irony to the facts of the sexual politics of the age (brass plates were used for decoration and serving and emulated the gold of royal courts and were prized by the “middling classes” –- imagine this one on your dining room sideboard –– quite a conversation piece).


Sir Galahad is welcomed to the Round Table, 1380-85

Men have longed for Stepford wives forever, haven't they –– Stepford wives that can entertain well. Cringe-making womanly instructions aside, there is a great section of shopping lists for large parties (you can read a translation of the food section of the book HERE). The lists give a remarkable insight into the life of the times. It’s a bit hard to say how many guests they are shopping for. This is hard because a party for “20 bowls” means nothing now. There was a thought that 2 people shared a bowl and that the huge amount of food (20 each of geese and capons, 50 each of chickens and rabbits 5 kids, legs of beef, veal and venison, 10 dozen loaves of bread) would have been for more than one meal that day and would have served additional guests and servants and aids.














14th and 15th century fabrics from the V & A collection (although tables were covered in white cloths then as now)

It does tell you there were to be “linens for six tables… you will need two big copper pots for twenty bowls, two boilers, four drainers, a mortar and pestle, six large kitchen towels, three large clay pots for wine, a large clay pot for soup, four wooden bowls and four wooden spoons, an iron pot, four large buckets with handles, two trivets and an iron spoon. And also they will shop for pewterware: that is to say, ten dozen bowls, six dozen small plates, two and a half dozen large plates, eight quart pots, two dozen pints, two alms pots.”


Jacob's wedding-feast in a Bible Historiale (KB 78 D 38 I, fol. 31r), c. 143

For the high table –– the fancy guests would be served a higher class of dishes, “The job of the butler is to provide salt-cellars for the high table; goblets, four dozen; goblets, covered, gilded, four; ewers, six; silver spoons, four dozen; silver quart mugs, four; alms pots, two; candy dishes, two.”

“At the grocer's: ten pounds of almonds, forty deniers a pound. Three pounds of blanched wheat, eight deniers a pound - One pound of columbine ginger, eleven sous. - one quarter-pound of mesche ginger, five sous - A half-pound of ground cinnamon, five sous. - Two pounds of ground rice, two sous. - Two pound of lump sugar, sixteen sous. - A quarter-pound of cloves and seed of garlic, six sous. Half a quarter-pound of long pepper, four sous. - Half a quarter-pound of galingale, five sous. - Half a quarter-pound of mace, three sous four deniers. - Half a quarter-pound of green laurel leaves [bay leaves], six deniers. - Two pounds of tall thin candles, three sous four deniers the pound, making six sous eight deniers, - Torches at three pounds apiece, six; smaller torches at one pound apiece, six; that is to say a cost of three sous a pound, and six deniers less per pound on the returns.”


1500 pipkin, London,V&A Collection


“For chamber-spices [goodies served in the drawing-room or dressing-room (JH)], that is to say, candied orange peel, one pound, ten sous. - Candied citron, one pound, twelve sous. - Red anise, one pound, eight sous. - Rose-sugar (white sugar clarified and cooked in rose-water (JP), one pound, ten sous. - White sugared almonds, three pounds, ten sous a pound.”


1590 pottery cup,V&A Collection

“Of hippocras [that I wrote about HERE], three quarts, ten sous a quart, and all will be needed.”

They also had to make the plates –– out of bread (the metal and pottery pieces were for mostly for serving). “Item, two bread-slicers, of whom one will crumb the bread and make trenchers and salt-cellars out of bread, and will carry the salt and the bread and the trenchers to the tables, and will provide for the dining-room two or three strainers for the solid leftovers such as sops, broken breads, trenchers, meats and such things: and two buckets for soups, sauces and liquid things.” The bread was specific too “Trencher bread, three dozen of half a foot in width and four fingers tall, baked four days before and browned, or what is called in the market Corbeil bread.” Interesting, right? It took 4 days to harden the bread.

13th century pottery,V&A Collection


There were also vast amounts of eggs (300!) and cream and cheese for the meal as well as a multitude of beasts and birds.

One of the interesting notes on the text came about the birds served at the dinners, and bird cookery is where I’m heading. “As birds were often taken by falconry, they appeared on the table minus the portions which were the right of the hunting-bird. The head of the partridge and duck, the thigh of the crane, etc., belonged to the hunting-bird, What was at first the result of the habits of falconers became later an absolute rule of culinary etiquette...I do not remember ever having seen the tails of birds taken in the hunt being at some time the subject of a falconry right. However the lords could reserve the tail of the heron or other birds, but perhaps also they would leave the tail on the bird when the feathers were brilliant and would produce the best effect at table.”(JP)

The right of the hunting bird, now that is something I’ve never thought about when I’ve seen them on leather gloved arms with their wonderful hoods (I just recently saw one eye to eye on the arm of a man in my park, it was an amazing and HUGE creature, and I knew if I was smaller, I would be toast–– it is a raptor with killer eyes). Why would they kill for their masters without a reward?


1450 Brass Plate, V&A Collection

As I said, Le Mangier de Paris has recipes, lovely recipes. One of them, and the reason for the visit, is Cameline Sauce –– I've wanted to try it for years and just have never gotten around to it –– until now. It was sort of the ketchup and barbeque sauce of the Middle Ages. Before tomato and New World pepper-based sauces there was Cameline, a cinnamon-based bread and vinegar sauce used on everything from fish to boar.

Like any great sauce, there are many versions and varieties. Some have red wine, others white wine, some only vinegar and some verjus. Sometimes bread is toasted, other times it is not. The spices used vary as well but all have cinnamon since cinnamon is the heart of the sauce. My recipe is inspired by many of the recipes that I have found. Use the amounts given as a guide. Taste as you go to get the sauce you want. It is always better to make it a least a few hours before to let all the flavors get to know each other. The sauce can be cooked or not (it seems the winter version was cooked and the summer version was not) and served warm or not.

This is one of the ancient sauces in my sauces series that joins the great Sauce Madame (a tangy fruited sauce that I wrote about HERE). I decided I wanted to try it with squab, lovely D'Artagnan squab (they have it in 3 forms HERE) that I worked with before with perfect results (thanks to a genius Ming Tsai technique). This sauce is so good, you will want to go Medieval and dive into it with succulent bits of squab and a lot of exuberant finger-licking. Then as now it would be good on a million things –– even a hamburger or sausages or pork chops. It's also a breeze to make with modern machines (a little harder with a mortar and pestle).

The narrator of Le Managier asks his bride to pick up Cameline Sauce at the store –– that’s how popular it was. “At the sauce-maker's, three half-pints of cameline for dinner and supper and a quart of sorrel verjuice.” But he also has a recipe to make it –– for those who have no sauce-maker to go to:


14th century pottery plate

“CAMELINE. Note that at Tournais, to make cameline, they grind together ginger, cinnamon and saffron and half a nutmeg: soak in wine, then take out of the mortar; then have white bread crumbs, not toasted, moistened with cold water and grind in the mortar, soak in wine and strain, then boil it all, and lastly add red sugar: and this is winter cameline. And in summer they make it the same way, but it is not boiled.
And in truth, for my taste, the winter sort is good, but the following is much better: grind a little ginger with lots of cinnamon, then take it out, and have lots of toasted bread or bread-crumbs in vinegar, ground and strained.”

There were others, Forme of Cury (that I wrote about HERE) did it like this:


Sauce Camelyne

Tak raysons of corans & kyrnels of notys & crustes of brede & pouder of ȝynȝer, clowes, flor of canel, bray it wel to gyder & do hit þer to salt temper hit up wit vyneger & messe forth.


Translation: Take currants, meat of nuts, crusts of bread and powdered ginger, cloves, ground cinnamon, pound it well together and add thereto salt temper it up with vinegar and mess forth.


1450 Brass Plate,V&A Collection

From the Libro di cucina del secolo XIV, The Medieval Kitchen:

Savore camelino optimo

A ffare savore camelino optimo, toy mandole monde e masenale e collali, toy uva passa e canella e garofali e un pocho de molena de pan e masena ogni cossa inseme e distempera con agresta ed è fatto.

Translation:

To make the best cameline sauce, take blanched almonds and grind them and sieve them, take dried currants and cinnamon and cloves and a little of the inside of the loaf, and grind all these together and
mix with verjuice and it’s made.



1450 Brass Plate,V&A Collection


From Two Fifteenth Century Cookbooks edited by Thomas Austin

Sauce gamelyne

Take faire brede, and kutte it, and take vinegre and wyne, & stepe be brede therein, and drawe hit thorgh a strynour with powder of canel and draw his twies or thries til hit be smoth; and ben take pouder of ginger, Sugur, and pouder of cloues and cast perto a litul saffron and let hit be thik ynogh, and thenne serue hit forthe 



1450 Brass Plate, V&A Collection


To Make Cameline (from Taillevent's Le Viandier)

Take ginger, plenty of cassia, cloves, grains of paradise, mastic, thyme and long pepper (if you wish). Sieve bread soaked in vinegar, strain and salt to taste.




Squab with Cameline Sauce

4 cooked squab - available HERE (see recipe)
1 recipe Cameline Sauce (see recipe)
garnish (I used frisee & parsley)


Place the squabs on the platter with garnish and serve with the sauce





Cameline Sauce

1- 2 slices bread, crusts removed and well-toasted (about 7" x 3", 3/4" thick)
1 c red wine*
1/4 to 1/3c red wine vinegar*
2 T currants soaked in 4 T water till plump and soft
2-3 t sugar
1 T blanched almonds (optional)
2 t - 2 T cinnamon to taste ( I used 1 1/2T)
1/2 t - 2 t ginger (I used 1t)
1/2 - 1 t ground grains of paradise (optional)
Healthy pinch of cloves, nutmeg
Pinch of ground mastic (optional - if you use it remember is it very powerful so use sparingly)
1/2 t thyme
pinch saffron (in 1 T warm, red wine)
salt and pepper to taste (if you have long pepper, grind 1 in a spice grinder and add to taste, otherwise use black pepper)



Bread with wine and vinegar


Bread after soaking 1 hour

Soak the bread in the wine and vinegar for an hour till mush. Grind the almonds if you are using them, then put in bread and soaking liquid in a blender or processor and puree. Add the spices to taste (especially the cinnamon -- most recipes ask for a lot of it but you may want less - if you use less, add less ginger). At this point you can press through a strainer for a finer texture or not, mine did not, it was smooth as silk.

*You may need to add more wine and vinegar if the sauce is too stiff –– mine was not. You may want to play with the proportions for the tang you like. It will have the texture of ketchup.



To Cook the Squab

4 Squab from D'Artagnan (available HERE)
2 large carrots, cut into 4-6 sticks each
1 T oil
salt and pepper (you can use ground long pepper and grains of paradise if you have them)

Pre-heat oven to 500º. Place a cast iron skillet in the oven and heat for at least 15 minutes.

Season the squabs inside and out with salt and pepper. Oil the carrot sticks

Remove the skillet from the oven and place the carrot sticks in the pan and the squabs on top (it keeps the bottom of the bird from burning and are delicious to eat afterwards (a Ming Tsai technique). Roast from 15 to 18 minutes till the squab reaches 120º interior temperature - you don't want squabs done to death MRare to Medium is good. Let rest for 10 minutes.







Thursday, March 7, 2013

Hearst Castle favorite –– Eggs Newberg




William Randolph Hearst between the 2 hats in the middle of the table

I can’t deny it –– I have the teensiest bit of an acquisitive streak. I admit to collections of cookbooks and dishes and textiles and silver and, well, you get the idea. I know many of you love collecting many of the same things. But there are other, more eccentric items that some of us can’t resist. No, I don’t mean rooms worthy of a Hoarders episode filled floor-to-ceiling with glass eyes or Mahjong sets. This predilection is one that I can divulge with nary a blush.

I love those little booklets you get when you visit historic houses. They are easier to take away than a coffee table book and much more convenient, especially when you are traveling to a few places in a day –– you would need a cart or a back brace after a few stops and an extra suitcase on the plane home. Booklets are a great way to remember a visit and don’t take up much shelf space.

I lost my collection when I downsized a few years ago –– horrors. They were accidently tossed with boxes of magazines. They chronicled where I’d been over so many years of coming and going.

In the last few years, I’ve started a new collection –– many of them from Great Britain’s National Trust (that does a sterling job with them). Today’s booklets are well produced with great pictures and fine writing.

Most are just about the houses, others are about the gardens or a famous resident, but some houses sell small cookbooks. These are real gems if they are collections of the recipes of the inhabitants and not of trustees or docents (Bobo’s Tuna Melt doesn’t belong in a cookbook for an 18th century house!). You can learn a lot about a house and its occupants when you see what they ate.


I came across a little book called Hearst Castle Fare a few years ago. Priced at $2.25 in 1972, it is not well produced but a gem of a cookbooklet full of real recipes served at the Castle. I have seen the booklet in a 60’s edition for sale on ETSY –– the first printing could have been the 50’s (judging by the outfits and hairstyles on the female kitchen staff in a photo). The housekeeper of Hearst Castle, Ann Rotanzi, put the collection together. Although the title page of my booklet says they are authentic recipes served in the castle, a bit further in it says, “ Recipes have been altered to make them family-sized and to use foods available at this time.” –– fingers crossed that they aren’t too different from the originals (perhaps using chicken instead of guinea hen that wasn’t available to many in the 1970’s (before D’Artagnan) and not whole-scale changes).

It seems only right that I mention Hearst’s Castle when I talk about the acquisitive spirit. William Randolph Hearst collected lots and lots of everything from armor to entire rooms (you can check out the house HERE). The photos in the booklet are blurry black and white, which is a pity, but the stories are good and the foreword by no less than William Randolph Hearst, Jr.

In the foreword, Hearst Jr. said:

“Today, with somewhat of a reputation as a world traveler, I can honestly say that I have never eaten better food any place.

“Practically all of the perishable food –– beef and venison, all sorts of poultry, eggs, most of the fish, vegetables and fruits were raised, shot, caught or grown and eaten right there on the place, which of course, contributes a great deal to the savory result.

“The cooking was, with exception of a very few dishes, just plain American home cooking.”

Guests from Cary Grant, Charles Chaplin, Joan Crawford, Clark Gable, Gary Cooper, Claudette Colbert and the Marx Brothers to Baron Rothchild, Winston Churchill and Franklin Roosevelt dined in the 27’ x 67’ dining room (with a 27’ ceiling).


Curiously, he chose to set the table with Booth’s Old Willow china (a pleasant but decidedly middle class set of dishes) with paper napkins and mustard and ketchup in bottles always set at the table –– more like a genteel boarding house than a castle. He liked to think of the food eaten there as “ranch food” –– eaten at a table that was hundreds of years old in a room filled with priceless tapestries and one of the largest private antique silver collections around –– go figure.


Mr. Hearst’s favorite dish wasn’t plain food though, it was pressed duck (Caneton à la rouennaise).

Christofle Silver Duck Press

To make it, the bird is barely cooked and the breast meat is removed, then the carcass is put in a duck press and the blood is squeezed out and used to make a rich wine sauce for the breast meat. It is a classic preparation that is at once simple and very elegant. This dish was served at the dinner of the century–– the 3 Emperors dinner in 1867 Paris so you could say it had a pretty impressive pedigree (that you can read about HERE). You can see the press in action at D’Artagnan HERE.


Dinners at Hearst Castle were prepared with the estate’s own fruits and vegetables (oranges, lemons, persimmons, pears, apples, tangerines, apricots, prunes, plums nectarines, figs grapefruit, mulberries, kumquats, peaches, avocados, guava, quince and many kinds of berries –– black and English walnuts). His son said his father enjoyed “fowl and birds [pheasant, guinea hen, partridges, quail, ducks, geese and turkey were raised there], lamb chops, cornbeef [sic] and cabbage, hominy grits, and on rare cases, roast beef [always well-aged], kidneys tripe etc.” 

Late in the evening after screening a movie (there was a full-size movie theatre at the house), Mr. Hearst would go down to his kitchen on his own and make Welsh rarebit to share with his guests or pick up a plate of cold meat and cheese to nibble.





Looking through the little book, I can see the food at Hearst Castle was simple and easy to prepare. It’s obvious Mr. Hearst loved cheese and buttery, creamy sauces (lots of cheese puffs and hollandaises and escalloped this and that). It's also obvious that the Castle was run a bit like a hotel!

Buffet lunches were served on electric warmers at 2 pm (promptness was requested, a loud cow bell would be rung). Dinner was served at 9pm. Breakfast was served between 9am and 12 and guests would have juice, fruit and coffee and then order their breakfast that would be cooked to order (Mr. Hearst only had fresh fruit and coffee with a lot of hot milk –– he rose quite late).

You can see some original Hearst menus HERE at The American Menu blog –– one of my personal favorites.

When I looked through my little recipe book Eggs Newburg stopped me in my tracks. I love Lobster Newburg (that I wrote about HERE) but this is a little different. It’s poached eggs on toast bedizened with a lovely sherried, creamy shrimp Newburg sauce. This would be a perfect thing to eat in a castle, don’t you think? 

Although I would want to have my Eggs Newberg breakfast in bed (served by Clark Gable, perhaps?), that wouldn’t have happened –– Mr. Hearst didn’t approve of breakfast in bed.

The original recipe says this is enough sauce for 12 eggs and 6 slices of toast –– serving 6. It would be a little slight I think unless the bread was large and you only had 2-3 shrimp per serving since there are about 8 -10 m shrimp per cup –– your call. Also, with the rich sauce and the shrimp, I thought one egg was a good portion.


William Randolph Heart’s Egg s Newburg serves 4 

1 recipe Shrimp Newberg
4 - 8 eggs
4 – 8 slices of toast (I used my mother’s recipe for pain de mie – a dense, milky, buttery loaf that’s perfect for fancy sandwiches and a dish like this but with small slices)


Poach eggs, Place eggs on toast and spoon Newburg sauce over them



William Randolph Hearst’s Shrimp Newberg Sauce

2 T butter
1 ½ T flour
½ t salt
few grains cayenne pepper
1 T sherry
dash of nutmeg
½ c cream
½ cup milk
2 cups cooked shrimp
2 egg yolks beaten

Broccoli or asparagus or pimento and parsley to serve.


Melt butter in top of double boiler add flour, salt cayenne and mix well. Add cream and milk gradually, stirring. Cook and stir until thickened. Add shrimp. Just before serving add the egg yolks and flavorings. Serve topped with parsley and think slices of pimento.



Thursday, February 28, 2013

Baroque Style – Dumas, Varenne and Pork Tenderloin with the Real Sauce Robert



It will come as no surprise to those kind souls who’ve followed this blog for any amount of time (or anyone who knows me for even a little while) that I have a contrary nature.  As I child, I eschewed girly stories for pirate stories. I was crazy for Raphael Sabatini (who authored Seahawk, Captain Blood, Scaramouche).  Instead of cartoons I watched Errol Flynn movies.
 
I loved the swordplay, the horses, the adventure and the style that I’d found in those movies and my favorite books as a kid had the most gorgeous color plates illustrated by people like NC Wyeth, Howard Pyle, Maxfield Parrish and Mead Shaeffer that had been my mother’s when she was a child.  I found them digging around in the parental bookcases one lucky day and they changed my life. I fell in love with color.

The art director (Carl Jules Weyl) who did Flynn’s Adventures of Robin Hood used the color palette that Wyeth had used in his book illustrations –– rich, saturated Technicolors –– colors of imagination, how could he not?  Unlike the bland colors of the day-to-day world, these were colors of romance and adventure –– not the world as it was but the world as it should be.

When Mead Shaeffer (1898-1980) painted The Three Musketeers artwork he pulled out all the stops (and saturated all the colors) as did Alexandre Dumas when he wrote the tale, based on a story that he found in the Marseille library.  The story captured his imagination so completely that he never returned the book – the Marseille library kept Dumas’ never redeemed withdrawal card at the library as a treasure.  

Mémoires de M. d'Artagnan was written by Gatien de Courtilz de Sandras (published in 1700, 27 years after the death of D’Artagnan).  Like many great adventure stories, Gatien’s tale was secondhand –– it came his way during a prison stay –– told to him by a warden who had been a friend of the real D’Artagnan.  After all, Thomas Mallory  wrote his Arthurian legend, Le Morte d’Arthur while serving time in the Tower  –– something about jail lets some imaginations soar –– the colors of imagination can transform even a prison, but are especially potent in the fertile mind of a child.





All those yards of silks, those velvets and brocades, those jewels, those bare shoulders, those ringlets, those men in the wonderful boots and those fabulous feathered hats (so perfect for doffing) –– the middle of the 17th century was a time of sensual extravagance.  Look at the gowns from the 1650’s and 60’s  –– demure white to bird-of-paradise colors –– the saturated colors of romance and adventure:



Susanna Huygens 1667-9


Barbara Villiers, Wright, 1670

de Marigny by Beaubrun 1650-60

Personal items were terribly luxurious during the Baroque period –– even the cases were divine:



The knives and forks were masterfully decorated.

V & A collections 1660-90 German

The furniture was over the top as was the some of the art and architecture


V & A collections, Pier Table 1690


V & A collections, Cabinet on stand 1690

V & A collections, portrait miniature, possibly of Mmme. De Montespan 1690

And the rooms were gilded within an inch of their lives:


Versaille Gallerie des Glaces




Porcelain Dining Room

Kings Dining Room

So you would imagine the denizens of this world of excess and luxury would eat well, wouldn’t you?  And you’d be right. 

François Pierre de la Varenne


François Pierre de la Varenne (1615-1678), the author of Cuisinier François was born at just the right time to take advantage of a perfect climate for a gourmet to thrive –– and thrive he did.  He used fresh vegetables (and didn’t cook them to death), insisted on fresh meat and fish and separated his sweets and savories – making a break with the earlier style that had reigned for hundreds of years of having everything in a jumble ( you know, fish and cake together… bleh!).  He dispensed with the use of most of the exotic spices that had ruled the kitchen and used local herbs instead. He wrote the first book on pastry making and codified cooking techniques. His was the first French cookbook translated into English –– his work influenced many renowned English chefs as a result.   He started using heavenly sauces made with flour-based roux and reductions.  Although many of his dishes are innovations, he kept some classics from the French kitchen canon that he felt were good enough for inclusion –– sauce Robert was one of them.

When I began my series on sauces HERE, I knew I wanted to make Sauce Robert –– a sauce with a rich history that stretched back for centuries.   It was a sauce that was so well-known that it made its way into literature, mentioned in Rabelais’ Pantagruel as well as in a remarkably amusing play bursting with fine food entitled La Condemnacion de Banquet   from 1507 that has an exchange that involves Sauce Robert (not unusual since the whole thing is about food) as it waxes eloquent on sauces and dishes to delight:

Madame honnorée,
Veez-en cy de trop plus parfaictes,
Que cyve, ne galimaffré:
Tout premier, vous sera donnée,
Saulce Robert, et cameline,
Le saupiquet, la cretonne,
La haricot, la salemine,
Le blanc manger, la galantine,
Le grave sentant comme basme,
Boussac, monté avec dodine
Caulhurner, et saulce madame
Even further back there is a mention of it (but no recipe) in the mother of all French cookbooks, Taillevant‘s  1310-95) Le Viandier .  A 1583 cookbook said to make Sauce Barbe Robert, one should:

“Take small onions fried in lard (or butter according to the day), verjuice, vinegar, mustard, Small spices [grains of paradise, cloves and long pepper] and salt.  Boil everything together.”

But what about the name?  In 1877, E. S. Dallas' Kettner’s Book of the Table said that Sauce Robert came from the English cook’s Roebroth or Roebrewit (a stew of roebuck with a special sauce).  He postulated that Taillevent didn’t understand the word so he made it Sauce Robert and that it has remained –– well sort of.   The original was onions and mustard and vinegar.  Today it still has onion but is brown and not as sprightly.  Julia Child made it with onions, white wine, brown sauce and mustard in her Mastering the Art of French Cooking –– the brown sauce addition goes back at least to Carême.  Kettner's author Dallas decried the sad state that Sauce Robert had gotten to –– fallen from it’s oniony heights:

“But ask for the Sauce Robert at clubs or restaurants, whether in Paris or London: it is impossible to recognize it in the liquid which is now served under its name.  Yet great chefs cannot rest content with the simplicity of the old receipt.  They glory in high art and all the wonders of science; and they have improved upon the sauce until its fine gusto is lost in a weak civilization.  The Sauce Robert was bountiful in its onions –– indeed, illimitable.  In the sauce of the modern Boulevards, the quantity is reduced; onions are not polite enough –– and sometimes they are intermingled with chopped gherkins.  In the Sauce Robert there was not thought of wine or ketchup, nor any thought of vinegar beyond the little tarragon vinegar involved in French mustard…. If they want a Sauce Robert, they surely ought to get it in the simplicity of the old receipt, which is perfect in its way.”

A masterful full history of sauce Robert can be found at Peter Hertzmann’s blog, a la carte HERE.

I wanted to try the old version and found a recipe for a Pork Loin with Sauce Robert in La Varenne.  This was my idea of a perfect use for the sauce and I had beautiful Berkshire pork tenderloins from my friends at D’Artagnan for the dish.  Seems only good and right that the D’Artagnan company has a role in this dish since it was inspired by The Three Musketeers (Unus pro omnibus, omnes pro uno –  one for all, all for one!).  They always have what you need to make great meals from this century or any other.

I took the liberty of adding a bit of fat, since the tenderloin has none. I liked the idea of a combination of butter and pork fat (as the 1583 recipe suggested) and the result was superb. Also, since the roasting method would produce more juices on a whole loin, I added some demi-glace to get the rich flavor the original would have had and reduced it to a chutney consistency –– you can reduce it less if you would like.  The original would have had more fat and might have been more liquid.  This would be great with pork chops and sausages as well –– you may want to double the recipe and save some because it is that good.

Light the candles, perfume your room, close your eyes and pretend you are sharing it with your 17th century paramour done up in silks and satins.  Imagination (and great flavor) can take you anywhere you want to go, can’t it?

Loin of Pork with a sauce Robert

Lard it with great lard, then roast it, and baste it with verjuice and vinegar, and a bundle of sage.  After the fat is fallen, take for to fry an onion with, which being fried, you shall put under the loin with the sauce wherewith you have basted it.  All being a little stoved [stewed or heated] together, lest it may harden, serve.  This sauce is called sauce Robert.


Pork Tenderloin with Sauce Robert, serves 4

2 pork tenderloins (Get D’Artagnans HERE)
1 T lard or butter (you could use more fat to be more like the original - perhaps 1/4 c)
1 large onion chopped 2 T butter
½ t salt and ½ t pepper*
pinch ground cloves
¾ c verjuice + ¼ c white wine vinegar OR ½ c white wine and ½ c white wine vinegar
2 Small bunches sage leaves
½ c demi-glace from D'Atagnan HERE
2 T grainy mustard

Heat the butter in a skillet and add the onions and one of the sage bunches.  Cook at low heat for about ½ an hour till soft and sweet.

Preheat oven to 425º


Put the lard or butter in the heated pan, salt and pepper the tenderloins and put in the skillet and brown the meat over high heat for a minute or 2 on each side.  Put them in the oven for 10 -15 minutes or until the internal temperature is 145º.  Remove from the oven and tent while you finish the sauce.

Remove the sage, add the verjuice and vinegar and begin reducing over medium low heat.  Add the demi-glace and stir till you have a thick sauce. Pour any juices from the pan (after removing excess fat) and pour any accumulated juices from the plate into the sauce. Add the salt and pepper and cloves.


Taste for seasoning and then add the mustard.  Serve with the sliced tenderloin garnished with the rest of the sage.

* originally long peppers and grains of paradise would be used… they are great so use them if you have them –– they have grains of paradise at Whole Foods