Part 7 (2/2)

137 Yet another herb category provides tastes of anise or licorice or a mixture of both. Members of this group come in the form of seeds such as fennel, anise, dill, caraway, and coriander. These are easy to powder and introduce into dressings and sauces or crush and add to a reduction of white wine. Again, use just a little for a subtle hint rather than a dominant note. I prefer these with fish or white-meated poultry accompanied by white wines that have undergone malolactic fermentation and been aged into a rounded mouthful. Fresh herbs of these anisey flavors such as tarragon, chervil and fennel and angelica greens are harder to handle because they a.s.sert themselves so radically; too much tarragon in a sauce or dry marinade will sink your wine into the flavor of the herb. Your recourse is to blend these herbs with parsley and one of the onion-flavored herbs.

And what of the peppery flavors from horseradish, nasturtiums, and the sweet and hot peppers? Personally, I am not partial to any frankly peppery taste with wine. I like to enjoy either one or the other. But I must admit that finely chopped nasturtiums introduced into a reduction of excellent Chardonnay and finished with b.u.t.ter and a bit of cream can be quite good.

In Europe the art of marrying wines and herbs is simple: use the herbs produced by a region with the beverages enjoyed in that region-chives with Normandy cider, for instance, or herbs for bouillabaisse (fennel, basil, thyme, bay leaf, saffron, orange rind) with a wine of the Mediterranean region (a Ca.s.sis, a Bandol, or a white Chateauneuf-du-Pape).

This way you can be certain both herbs and wine will harmonize, exhibiting characteristics of the same soils.

But in California things get a lot more complicated. Here in the Napa Valley, for example, where we have sixty-four different types of soils, the Chardonnay or Sauvignon Blanc grown in one soil differs from that grown in another, and our herbs display similar differences in taste.

Quite a quandary for the cook! My response to this more complex picture is to divide my herbs into basic taste categories, appraise the strength of each herb within its category, and work from there.

138 HARRY MATHEWS.

Country Cooking from Central France: Roast Boned Rolled Stuffed Shoulder of Lamb (Farce Double) FOR MAXINE GROFFSKY.

Here is an old French regional dish for you to try. Attempts by pre-sumptuous chefs to refine it have failed to subdue its basically hearty nature. It demands some patience, but you will be abundantly rewarded for your pains.

Farce double-literally, double stuffing-is the specialty of La Tour Lambert, a mountain village in Auvergne, that rugged heart of the Ma.s.sif Central. I have often visited La Tour Lambert: the first time was in late May, when farce double farce double is traditionally served. I have observed the dish being made and discussed it with local cooks. is traditionally served. I have observed the dish being made and discussed it with local cooks.

The latter were skeptical about reproducing farce double farce double elsewhere-not out of pride, but because they were afraid the dish would make no sense to a foreigner. (It is your duty to prove them wrong-and nothing would make them happier if you did.) Furthermore, they said, certain ingredients would be hard to find. Judicious subst.i.tution is our answer to that. Without it, after all, we would have to forgo most foreign cooking not out of a can. elsewhere-not out of pride, but because they were afraid the dish would make no sense to a foreigner. (It is your duty to prove them wrong-and nothing would make them happier if you did.) Furthermore, they said, certain ingredients would be hard to find. Judicious subst.i.tution is our answer to that. Without it, after all, we would have to forgo most foreign cooking not out of a can.

The shoulder of lamb itself requires attention. You must buy it from a butcher who can dress it properly. Tell him to include the middle neck, the shoulder chops in the brisket, and part of the foreshank.

Without them, the stuffing will fall out of the roast.

In Auvergne, preparing the cut is no problem, since whole lambs are roasted: the dish is considered appropriate for exceptional, often communal feasts, of a kind that has become a rarity with us.

All bones must be removed. If you leave this to the butcher, have him save them for the deglazing sauce. The fell or filament must be kept intact, or the flesh may crumble.

139.

Set the boned forequarter on the kitchen table. Do not slice off the purple inspection stamps but scour them with a brush dipped in a weak solution of lye. The meat will need all the protection it can get. Rinse and dry.

Marinate the lamb in a mixture of 2 quarts of white wine, 2 quarts of olive oil, the juice of 16 lemons, salt, pepper, 16 crushed garlic cloves, 10 coa.r.s.ely chopped yellow onions, basil, sage, rosemary, melilot, ginger, allspice, and a handful of juniper berries. The juniper adds a pungent, authentic note. In Auvergne, shepherds pick the berries in late summer when they drive their flocks from the mountain pastures. They deposit the berries in La Tour Lambert, where they are pickled through the winter in cider brandy. The preparation is worth making, but demands foresight.

If no bowl is capacious enough for the lamb and its marinade, use a washtub. Without a tub, you must improvise. Friends of mine in Paris resort to their bidet; Americans may have to fall back on the kitchen sink, which is what I did the first time I made farce double farce double. In La Tour Lambert, most houses have stone marinating troughs. Less favored citizens use the munic.i.p.al troughs in the entrance of a cave in the hill-side, just off the main square.

The lamb will have marinated satisfactorily in 5 or 6 days.

Allow yourself 3 hours for the stuffings. The fish b.a.l.l.s or quenelles that are their main ingredient can be prepared a day in advance and refrigerated until an hour before use.

The quenelles of La Tour Lambert have traditionally been made from chaste chaste, a fish peculiar to the mountain lakes of Auvergne. The name, a dialect word meaning ”fresh blood,” may have been suggested by the color of its spreading gills, through which it ingests its food. (It is a mouthless fish.) It is lured to the surface with a skein of tiny beads that resemble the larvae on which it preys, then bludgeoned with an under-water boomerang. Chaste Chaste has coa.r.s.e, yellow-white flesh, with a mild but inescapable taste. It has been vaguely and mistakenly identified as a perch; our American perch, however, can replace it, provided it has been caught no more than 36 hours before cooking. Other subst.i.tutes are salt.w.a.ter fish such as silver hake or green cod. If you use a dry-fleshed fish, remember to order beef-kidney fat at the butcher's to add to the fish paste. (Be sure to grind it separately.) To a saucepan filled with 2 cups of cold water, add salt, pepper, 2 has coa.r.s.e, yellow-white flesh, with a mild but inescapable taste. It has been vaguely and mistakenly identified as a perch; our American perch, however, can replace it, provided it has been caught no more than 36 hours before cooking. Other subst.i.tutes are salt.w.a.ter fish such as silver hake or green cod. If you use a dry-fleshed fish, remember to order beef-kidney fat at the butcher's to add to the fish paste. (Be sure to grind it separately.) To a saucepan filled with 2 cups of cold water, add salt, pepper, 2 pinches of grated nutmeg, and 6 tablespoons of b.u.t.ter. Boil. Off heat, begin stirring in 2 cups of flour and continue as you again bring the 140 140 water to a boil. Take off heat. Beat in 5 eggs, one at a time, then 5 egg whites. Let the liquid cool.

Earlier, you will have ground 3 pounds of fish with a mortar and pestle-heads, tails, bones, and all-and forced them through a coa.r.s.e sieve. Do not not use a grinder, blender, or Cuisinart. The sieve of La Tour Lambert is an elegant sock of meshed copper wire, with a fitted ashwood plunger. It is kept immaculately bright. Its apertures are shrewdly gauged to crumble the bones without pulverizing the flesh. Into the strained fish, mix small amounts of salt, white pepper, nutmeg, and chopped truffles-fresh ones, if possible. use a grinder, blender, or Cuisinart. The sieve of La Tour Lambert is an elegant sock of meshed copper wire, with a fitted ashwood plunger. It is kept immaculately bright. Its apertures are shrewdly gauged to crumble the bones without pulverizing the flesh. Into the strained fish, mix small amounts of salt, white pepper, nutmeg, and chopped truffles-fresh ones, if possible.

Stir fish and liquid into an even paste.

Two hours before, you will have refrigerated 1 cup of the heaviest cream available. Here, of course, access to a cow is a blessing.

The breathtakingly viscid cream of La Tour Lambert is kept in specially excavated cellars. Those without one use the town chiller, in the middle depths-cool but not cold-of the cave mentioned earlier. Often I have watched the attendant women entering and emerging from that room, dusky figures in cowls, shawls, and long gray gowns, bearing earthenware jugs like offerings to a saint.

Beat the cool cream into the paste. Do it slowly: think of those erect, deliberate Auvergnat women as they stand in the faint gloom of the cave, beating with gestures of timeless calm. It should take at least 15 minutes to complete the task.

At some previous moment, you will have made the stuffing for the quenelles. (This is what makes the stuffing ”double.”) It consists of the milt of the fish and the sweetbreads of the lamb, both the neck and stomach varieties. (Don't forget to mention them them to your butcher.) The milt is rapidly blanched. The sweetbreads are diced, salted, spiced with freshly ground hot pepper, and tossed for 6 minutes in clarified b.u.t.ter. to your butcher.) The milt is rapidly blanched. The sweetbreads are diced, salted, spiced with freshly ground hot pepper, and tossed for 6 minutes in clarified b.u.t.ter.

Both are then chopped very fine (blender permitted) and kneaded into an unctuous ma.s.s with the help of 1 cup of lamb marrow and 3 tablespoons of aged Madeira.

I said at the outset that I am in favor of appropriate subst.i.tutions in preparing farce double: farce double: but even though one eminent authority has suggested it, stuffing the quenelles with banana peanut b.u.t.ter is not appropriate. but even though one eminent authority has suggested it, stuffing the quenelles with banana peanut b.u.t.ter is not appropriate.

The quenelles must now be shaped. Some writers who have discoursed at length on the traditional Auvergnat shape urge its adoption at all costs. I disagree. For the inhabitants of La Tour Lambert, who attach great significance to farce double farce double, it may be right to feel strongly 141 141 on this point. The same cannot be said for families in Maplewood or Orange County. You have enough to worry about as it is. If you are, however, an incurable stickler, you should know that in Auvergne molds are used. They are called beurdes beurdes (they are, coincidentally, shaped like birds), and they are available here. You can find them in any of the better head shops. (they are, coincidentally, shaped like birds), and they are available here. You can find them in any of the better head shops.

But forget about bird molds. Slap your fish paste onto a board and roll it flat. Spread on stuffing in parallel -inch bands 2 inches apart.

Cut paste midway between bands, roll these strips into cylinders, and slice the cylinders into sections no larger than a small headache. Dip each piece in truffle crumbs.

I refuse to become involved in the pros and cons of presteaming the quenelles. The only steam in La Tour Lambert is a rare fragrant wisp from the dampened fire of a roasting pit.

We now approach a crux in the preparation of farce double: farce double: enveloping the quenelles and binding them into the lamb. I must make a stern observation here; and you must listen to it. You must take it absolutely to heart. enveloping the quenelles and binding them into the lamb. I must make a stern observation here; and you must listen to it. You must take it absolutely to heart.

If the traditional ways of enveloping the quenelles are arduous, they are in no way gratuitous. On them depends an essential component of farce double farce double, namely the subtle interaction of lamb and fish. While the quenelles (and the poaching liquid that bathes them) must be largely insulated from the encompa.s.sing meat, they should not be wholly so.

The quenelles must not be drenched in roasting juice or the lamb in fishy broth, but an exchange should occur, definite no matter how mild.

Do not under any circ.u.mstance under any circ.u.mstance use a baggie or Saran Wrap to enfold the quenelles. Of course it's easier. So are TV dinners. For once, demand the utmost of yourself: the satisfaction will astound you, and use a baggie or Saran Wrap to enfold the quenelles. Of course it's easier. So are TV dinners. For once, demand the utmost of yourself: the satisfaction will astound you, and there is no there is no other way other way.

I mentioned this misuse of plastic to a native of La Tour Lambert.

My interlocutor, as if appealing for divine aid, leaned back, lifted up his eyes, and stretched forth his arms. He was standing at the edge of a marinating trough; its edges were slick with marinade. One foot shot forward, he teetered for one moment on the brink, and then down he went. Dripping oil, encrusted with fragrant herbs, he emerged briskly and burst into tears.

There are two methods. I shall describe the first only briefly: it is the one used by official cooks for public banquets. Cawl (tripe skin) is sc.r.a.ped free of fat and rubbed with pumice stone to a thinness approach-ing nonexistence. This gossamer is sewn into an open pouch, which is 142 142 filled with the quenelles and broth before being sewn shut. The sealing of the pouch is preposterously difficult. I have tried it six times; each time, ineluctable burstage has ensued. Even the nimble-fingered, thimble-thumbed seamstresses of La Tour Lambert find it hard. In their floodlit corner of the festal cave, they are surrounded by a sizable choir of wailing boys whose task is to aggravate their intention to a pitch of absolute, sustained concentration. If the miracle always occurs, it is never less than miraculous.

The second method is to seal the quenelles inside a clay sh.e.l.l. This demands no supernatural skills, merely attention.

Purveyors of reliable cooking clay now exist in all major cities. The best are Italian. In New York, the most dependable are to be found in east Queens.

Stretch and tack down two 18-inch cheesecloth squares. Sprinkle until soaking (mop up puddles, however). Distribute clay in pats and roll flat until entire surface is evenly covered. The layer of clay should be no more than 1/16 inch thick. Scissor edges clean.

Drape each square on an overturned 2-quart bowl. Fold back flaps.

Mold into hemispheres. Check fit, then dent edge of each hemisphere with forefinger so that when dents are facing each other, they form a -inch hole.

Be sure to prepare the sh.e.l.l at least 48 hours in advance so that it hardens properly. (If you are a potter, you can bake it in the oven; if not, you risk cracking.) As the drying clay flattens against the cheesecloth, tiny holes will appear. Do not not plug them. Little will pa.s.s through them: just enough to allow the necessary exchange of savors. plug them. Little will pa.s.s through them: just enough to allow the necessary exchange of savors.

Make the poaching liquid-3 quarts of it-like ordinary fish stock.

The wine used for this in Auvergne is of a local sparkling variety not on the market; but any good champagne is an acceptable subst.i.tute.

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