French Farmhouse Cookbook

We have checked our log of cookbook entries and simply cannot believe that we have never featured Susan Loomis' French Farmhouse Cookbook.  What were we thinking?   Clearly, we were not thinking.  Over at Lucindaville we featured our favorite holiday planned-over, an after Christmas eggs Benedict that is made with leftover dressing, giblet gravy and a poached egg or if one is so inclined, our favorite confit de gésiers. 

J.W. wanted to know our recipe for gizzard confit and the one we love to use is from the French Farmhouse Cookbook.  This cookbook is often described as the French cookbook to buy if you are in the market a truly authentic French cookbook.  One that presents recipes that a French family would actually eat every day.  That seems to be the best description one could provide. 

This is a rather old-fashioned cookbook in the sense that is offers no photos of the food.  While there are lovely line drawings, the food is left up to one's own imagination.  Still, this is the go-to French cookbook on my shelves that house thousands of French cookbooks.

With out further ado...

Confit de Gésiers. 

2 pounds chicken gizzards, cleaned and well rinsed
1/4 cup coarse sea salt
10 sprigs fresh thyme or 1/2 teaspoon dried
3 imported bay leaves
4 pounds pork fat cut in 1-inch pieces or lard
2 small onions, each pierced with one whole clove
1 teaspoon allspice berries

1.  Place the gizzards in a large bowl.  Add the salt, half the thyme, and one of the bay leaves, and mix until well  combined and the salt is evenly distributed.  Cover and refrigerate for 2 hours.

2.  Rinse the gizzards well by placing them in a bowl and filling the bowl with water.  Drain the gizzards, then repeat the procedure at least 4 times, to make sure you remove all the surface salt.  Pat gizzards dry.

3. Place the pork fat or lard in a large heavy saucepan over medium-high heat.  When it is two-thirds melted, add the gizzards, onions, remaining herbs, and allspice berries, stirring and pushing them down into the fat.  Lower the heat s the fat is simmering slowly.  Cook, uncovered, until the gizzards are tender, about 2 1/2 hours, stirring them occasionally and pushing any beneath the surface of fat so they cook evenly, adjusting the heat if necessary.

4. When the gizzards are cooked, remove the pan from the heat and let them cool in the fat until nearly congealed.  Transfer the gizzards and the fat  to a bowl or an earthenware or glass container and let them cool completely. Either eat them immediately, or store in the refrigerator for up to two weeks, covered with fat and aluminum foil.

5. Remove the gizzards from the fat and warm them gently in a saucepan over low heat.  Use a slotted spoon to remove them from the pan.

We are lucky enough to have several old cheese crocks that have hinged lids to lock in the gizzard goodness.   Also, we never use just plain aluminum foil on food products.  We used to use parchment lined foil that was designed for sandwich shops.  Now the good folks at Reynolds have introduced this parchment lined foil to the supermarket shelf.   Buy it --  it is wonderful.   If you are out there looking for a really good French cookbook that an actual French person in your exact shoes would cook from,  the French Farmhouse Cookbook is a safe bet.                                                                              
 

Read More

Odd Bits

As promised, one of the New York Times Notable Cookbooks of 2011, and one of our favorites...Odd Bits by Jennifer McLagan. We are big fans of offal. In the South the rule for eating pigs was: Everything but the squeal. That rule covered most every other meat. (Actually, Southerners were never big on fish with the heads still attached, but I digress.)

McLagan has made a bit of a career out of writing cookbooks for the parts of the animals that most people see, not as "odd" but as simply trash. Her other books were about fat and bones. I heard her talk of this book as being the final chapter in her trilogy. So Odd Bits offers up recipes for heads and cheeks and brains and tongues and our favorite "odd" bit, the gizzard.

One of our favorite uses of gizzards is in a confit. Every so often, D'Artagnan's, the gourmet meat purveyor has confit of gizzards or as the French would say, confit de gésiers. In France, they are a popular salad enhancement, like croutons. This recipe calls for prepared gizzards. Most of the gizzards one buys at a market are going to be cleaned. Occasionally, they will have a wrinkled, yellowish substance on them, just peal that away and discard. This method will work with gizzards of any type, chicken, duck or turkey.

We do like to see writes who use a particular spice blend, to keep us from constantly add 1/4 teaspoon of this and 1/2 teaspoon of that. For McLagan's confit of gizzards she offers up an easily changeable confit salt.

Confit of Gizzards

10 1/2 ounces / 300 g gizzards, prepared
1 1/2 tablespoons / 3/4 ounce / 20 g Confit Salt
1 clove garlic
Melted duck fat or lard

Sprinkle the gizzard halves with the salt, turning to coat. Cover and refrigerate for 1 day.

Preheat the oven to 200°F / 100°C.

Rinse the gizzards to remove the excess seasoning mixture and pat dry. Place them in a small, heavy flameproof casserole or Dutch oven and add the garlic clove and just enough fat to cover the gizzards. Place the pan over medium heat, and when you see the first bubble in the fat, remove the pan from the heat and transfer to the oven. Cook, uncovered, until the gizzards are very tender, about 3 hours.

Using a slotted spoon, transfer the gizzards to a sieve placed over a bowl and let cool. Strain the fat into a large measuring cup and let stand for about 10 minutes so the cooking juices sink to the bottom.

Place the gizzards in a clean container and then pour enough of the fat over to cover them completely. Discard any cooking juices at the bottom of the measuring cup, and reserve any extra fat for another use.

Confit Salt

3 large sprigs thyme
2 fresh bay leaves, torn
1 1/2 ounce/40 g coarse salt
2 teaspoons black pepper corns
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg

Remove the leaves from the thyme stems and discard the stems. Combine the thyme and bay leaves, salt, peppercorns, and nutmeg in a spice grinder and grind till powdery. Store in an airtight container; it will keep for several months. (McLagan suggests that sage and fennel are excellent additions to the salt. Just add a bit to the grind.)

So if you are squeamish about gizzards do give this recipe a try.

Read More

Testicles

I often write about my predilection to procure every French cookbook there is and often lament the fact that there really are just so many ways on can make boeuf bourguignon! So leave it to some French author to come up with a cookbook that covers a culinary delicacy I have never thought of cooking.

Blandine Vié has written a book that is the best of what a cookbook can be. Testicles: Balls in Cooking and Culture is part cookbook, part cultural history, part lexicon, an all profoundly entertaining. The book was originally published in France in 2005. It has been masterfully translated by Giles MacDonogh. I regret that my knowledge if French does not allow me the pleasure of reading this work in its original as MacDonogh tells us that Vié has a masterful sense of words, puns and is often plainly untranslatable. In fact, Testicles won the Prix Litteraire de la Commanderie des Gastronomes Ambassadeurs de Rungis.

The book is divided into three section. Mythology offering up a history of balls from anatomy to slang. Method, the bulk of the book, features recipes from ancient to modern. Attributes serves as a dictionary or lexicon of testicular. (Here, Giles MacDonogh augmented Vié's heavily French list to include more of an English slant.)

Having read several of the cookbooks alluded to in this book, I can safely say that one often overlooks the unfamiliar, that is to say, I am more likely to read that thousandth recipe for boeuf bourguignon before delving into say, a ragout of cock's stones. One of the easiest balls to come by or to get ones hands on or well, as you can see, one must chose one's words as carefully as one's balls. Let me start again: Lamb's testicles or "fries" are probably the easiest to procure from a butcher. Here is a small plate of lamb fries, but it can be doubled if you are a big ball eater for an entréé.

Balas à la provençal, as an apéritif

4 lamb’s fries [balas in Provençal]
200g fine soft breadcrumbs or dried crumbs
2eggs
1 tbsp crème fraîche
oil for deep-frying
2 lemons
fine sea salt
freshly ground white pepper


Remove the membrane surrounding the testicles and rinse them in cold water in which you have added a dash of vinegar or lemon juice. Drain and dry and cut into slices 5 mm thick. Spread out the breadcrumbs on a flat plate. Beat the eggs as for an omelette in a bowl together with the cream.

Lightly season the slices with salt and pepper, dip them in the egg mixture then turn them in the breadcrumbs, making sure both sides are covered.

Next drop them in the hot oil, which should not be smoking (175°C) and fry them for 2–3 minutes on each side until they are golden. Dry them on paper towls.

To serve, arrange them in a pyramid on a hot plate and surround them with lemon quarters.

Note: double the quantities if you wish to serve the balas as a main course. They can be accompanied by a fresh tomato sauce.

If you love food, language, and culinary history, you will have balls of fun with this book. IT makes a great present as I am sure, few out there have a a testicle cookbook!

Read More

Pamela Harlech's Practical Guide...

to Cooking, Entertaining, and Household Management. There is almost more title than book! Here is a selection from the jacket blurb that I particularly love:

Pamela Harlech knows how to clean an old gilt picture frame as well as how long to cook a roast that didn't defrost in time.

It is a real stretch to think that Pamela Harlech was running around the castle cleaning frames only to discover that her roast had failed to thaw. Still, I have always been a sucker for her books. This book is a throwback to the "cookery" books of the late 19th and early 20th century that included household tips along with cooking info. This book is packed with cooking times, culinary terms, illustrations for making suet pastry and cleaning fish, and how to wash papier-mâché.*

The recipes have that old-fashioned English castle feel. There is a lot of pigeon and venison and forcemeat and artichokes, oh my. I'm not complaining, but after you have cleaned the gilt frames and the papier-mâché, some of the recipes might just require some extra time in the kitchen... for a chef. There are some thing even the unskilled might try, like a chicken liver sandwich.

Chicken Liver Sandwich

4 chicken livers, washed and cooked
2 tablespoons crisp bacon, diced
4 drops Tabasco sauce
Juice of 1/2 lemon
Salt and pepper to taste

Mix together in a bowl and spread on rounds of buttered toast.

Needless to say, there are no illustrations for this one. I must confess, I bought this because of the lovely jacket. This is not the cookbook you give to a novice, but if you have a taste for British high living (and perhaps a staff) this is a fun addition to anyone's collection.



*Wash the object gently with a sponge wrung out in tepid water -- never use soap. then dry off with a cloth and polish with a little dry flour rubbed on with a chamois or other soft cloth.

Read More

American Cooking -- Southern Style

Time-Life produced a series of cookbook collections to varying degrees of success. The individual volumes show up in kitchens and used bookstores around the country. Many times, the volumes were flipped through once or twice and set aside as more of a collector’s item than a practical volume. James Beard oversaw the American Cooking series.

The best of the best of this series is the volume Southern Style. (I know you think this is prejudicial but nothing could be farther from the truth, honest.) Southern Style was written by Eugene Walter. For more than 20 years, Walter had lived in Rome and Paris but whenever he was asked that familiar question, “Where are you from?”, Walter always answered, “I’m Southern.”

“In a sense I have never left home: in Rome I live as I lived in Mobile. On my terrace garden I have five kinds of mint, five kinds of onions and chives, as well as four-o-clocks and sweet olive. I take a nap after the midday meal; there is always time for gossip and for writing letters. I eat southern dishes: fried chicken, grits and spoon bread, having learned to cook almost all of them since I left home. I enjoy guests, I stay up the night of the full moon, my life is one long quest for a perfect cup of hot strong black coffee.”

It is the way of Southerners. I can remember my mother pleading with grocers to stock okra and when that failed, trying desperately to grow a small patch in the cold of Montana. I remember loading my car with bags and bags of White Lily flour and Martha White corn meal after a trip to Alabama. Even today, I am always on the phone to my BFF, Beverly asking her to send some Alabama product to me (most recently Alaga syrup).

My Father loved tongue and twice a year my mother cooked one for him. I like to eat the tongue, but I hated seeing it sitting on the counter. This recipe changed that.

Mobile Thyme Tongue

A 4-pound fresh beef tongue
2 cups distilled white vinegar
1 cup dry red wine
1 cup dark brown sugar
2 medium-sized onions, peeled and cut into 1/4 –inch-thick slices
1 medium sized garlic clove, peeled and cut crosswise into 1/8-inch-thick slices
1 tablespoon dry mustard
1 teaspoon crumbled dry thyme
1 tablespoon salt

With a small sharp skewer, pierce completely through the beef tongue in at least a dozen places. Then set the tongue aside in an enameled casserole just large enough to hold it comfortably.

Combine the vinegar, wine sugar, onions, garlic, mustard, thyme and salt in a 2-quart saucepan. Bring to a boil over high heat, stirring until the sugar and mustard dissolve. Immediately pour over the tongue and turn the meat about to moisten it evenly. Refrigerate uncovered and when the marinade is cool, cover the casserole with its lid. Let the tongue marinade in the refrigerator for 24 hours, turning it over two or three times.

Preheat the oven to 300 F. Bring the tongue to a boil over high heat, then cover the casserole with a double thickness of aluminum foil and set the lid in place. Bake the tongue in the middle of the oven for 2 1/2 to 3 hours, or until it shows no resistance when pierced deeply with a fork.

If you plan to serve the tongue hot, transfer it to a heated platter. Skim and discard as much fat as possible from the surface of the cooking liquid, then strain the liquid through a fine sieve into a small bowl. Taste for seasoning, and present the sauce in a sauceboat with the tongue.

If you plan to serve the tongue cold, let it cool to room temperature in the cooking liquid; refrigerate until ready to serve. Transfer the tongue to a platter or cutting board, trim it and carve it into thin slices. Arrange the slices on a chilled platter.

When in Rome do as the Southerners do.

Read More