RECIPES TO LIGHTEN A DARKLING AGE

BAKED TRUFFLES

CHOOSE some good white truffles; wash with care; wrap each of them in five or six pieces of paper previously soaked in water.

Cook in hot cinders, remove the sheets of paper, dry the truffles, and serve them among the folds of a well-warmed table napkin.

Familiar, and yet too little eaten.   

 

FRICASSEE OF MUSHROOMS

HAVING peeled your mushrooms, and scraped the inside of them, throw them into cold water.  If they are buttons, rub them with flannel; take them out and boil them in fresh water with salt.  When they are tender, put in a little shredded parsley, and an onion stuck with cloves, and toss them up with a good lump of butter rolled in a little flour.  You may put in three spoonfuls of thick cream, and a little nutmeg cut in pieces; but be sure to take out the nutmeg and onion before you send it to table.



NOTE:  THESE recipes, from Norman Douglas' wonderful Venus In The Kitchen, both look excellent, wintry and holiday-ish.  Still, I wonder whether I'll ever taste white truffle (or caviar) again? Perhaps I'll be invited to dine at the White House some day -- I mean, how many times can one stand having Barbra Streisand to dinner?

I've only eaten Truffes sous la cendre once before --  many, many years ago at an amazing restaurant called L'Archestrate in Paris, which I believe was the place Alain Senderens launched his brilliant career.  It was prepared, as is customary, with black truffles there.  Using white truffle in the dish must also be amazing.  Now that Jane's at last eating mushrooms (at least in the form of cream of mushroom soup and only when they're thoroughly blended), I think I'll try the fricassee out on her, possibly for Christmas Eve dinner.  I won't discuss the fact that the dish (like all the recipes in Venus In The Kitchen) is considered to be an aphrodisiac.  She's only 15 and she's my daughter, for  heaven sake. 

Pictures of Norman Douglas tend to be memorable and atmospheric, even the ordinary ones.  I love this 1935  Carl van Vechten portrait, taken against Venice's stones.  

Kinks: Low Budget (Link) 

CLEAN WELL SIX QUAILS

QUAILS A LA LUCULLUS

CLEAN well six quails.  Cut three or four ounces of ham into small pieces, chop one shallot, put both ham and shallot in a saucepan with a little butter and fry; then add eight chicken livers, a small bouquet garni, six peppercorns, two cloves, pepper and salt.  Let all this cook gently; when cooked, pound in the mortar, pass through a sieve, then add some sliced truffles.

With this, stuff the quails, oil them with the best olive oil, wrap them in greased paper, and cook them in the oven.

NOTE:  This Norman Douglas, Venus In The Kitchen, recipe sounds exquisite and aphrodisiac, a culinary sensation which I admit is totally foreign to me.  I like the fact that, while elegant, it is also somewhat earthy and straightforward, including chicken livers instead of what I believe is the customary ultra-Lucullan foie gras-based stuffing.  Whichever preparation you choose, I can see this being the condemned cat prisoner's preferred last meal.  ("Let's see -- ham, quail, chicken livers.  Hold the truffles. ”)    This observation may only apply to my cats, but it applies to all of them and I live in a veritable cat city. 

I enjoy Norman Douglas's way of writing recipes and realize that some of his style has rubbed off on me and my writing.  "Clean well six quails" reminds me of something I might say.  Or Yoda.