Sunday, January 10, 2010

I cook spherical food

I am being faithful to my Marguerite Patten 1967 recipe cards, and I am doing exactly what she says, following the cooking times and believing her when she tells me that peppers and ham make a good stuffing for an apple.   Green food dye is going to make an appearance, as are over 100lbs of breadcrumbs.

It is going to be a spherical type of dinner: the French-Canadian veterinary histopathologist with whom I live has pulled, at random, 3 cards, all of which feature round things stuffed with things that perhaps they should not be.

 First up, Tomates au gratin, i.e. tomatoes with their insides taken out, mixed with breadcrumbs and (mild, pointless) cheddar and shoved in the oven, pulled from the "On a diet" section of the recipe cards.  I broke the rules and added garlic, arguing that as garlic had only recently been invented in England by Elizabeth David at the time my recipe cards were written, there was a good chance that Mrs Patten might not have heard of it.

"Serves two for a light lunch with salad", writes Mrs P, "or as an accompaniment to grilled steak". She can use words like "light", "salad" and "grilled" as much as she likes, but I am not fooled: this is not diet food - it is made mainly of cheese and bread.

It is quite delicious. I shall make it again with stronger cheese and more garlic should I ever decide to have a 60s themed dinner party. (Highly unlikely - there is nothing less amusing than ironic food).   Marks: 7/10.

Next up, Pommes farcies au jambon et aux poivrons. I do not like peppers (unless they are red and roasted), and I am afraid of ham, which can often be wet. This recipe tells me to dice ham, peppers and onions, 'lightly brown' them,  stuff the resulting slop into the gaping maws of two stupid Granny Smith apples and bake the lot for 20 minutes.

It needs another 20 minutes but even imagining an apple that is softer, it is a pointless sort of food, that involves a relatively large amount of effort (I do not have an apple corer, for e.g., and do not intend to get one) for very little reward.

The final result, as you will see, looks like a tiny child has thrown up a pizza on a cheap beach ball, and it has no place in my kitchen. (It is however an excellent diet food, because you do not eat much of it.)  Marks: 2/10

Finally, Paniers aux fruits, or Fruit Baskets.  Some excitement involved in making meringue (despite it being a boring sort of meringue involving just sugar and egg white; no for e.g. vanilla); even more excitement involved in shaping said meringue into a 'basket' shape. Time passes; the meringues are put in the oven. I make stewed apple, as instructed by Mrs P. I whip some cream. And then, also following Mrs P's instructions, I add some green food dye. It looks like soft-scoop mint chocolate chip icecream.

It is OK, but not worth the effort.  I eat half but only because I am hungry after the virtually inedible stuffed apples.  Marks: 4/10.

And finally, the review from the French-Canadian veterinary research pathologist to whom, I would like to remind you, I am married. To be frank, I had no idea that he was such a sauce. Brace yourselves, friends.

"I don’t know much about this Marguerite Patten person, but one thing is becoming abundantly clear, from this entirely random sampling of her régime/diet and dessert recipes: the lady likes her some balls. Evidently here, the word ‘régime’ should be taken figuratively, as a ‘regimen’ of sorts, one that has actually little to do with food, but much more with the expression, or at the very least sublimation, of a very deep-seated, ravenous hunger. 

Apparently Marguerite was a young cook in London during WWII, a time when, one can only surmise, there were very few tomatoes, apples, or able-bodied men to go around. Which, I’m sure you’ll agree, can only have led to the birth of an all-consuming fascination with balls. The actual food here is a secondary, unimportant detail – tomatoes with cheesy stuffing: yeah sure, an easy classic, done to death but always a crowd pleaser, she probably copied the recipe distractedly from The Joy of Cooking while gazing out the window and wisfully dreaming of real warm round things to fondle. Apples desultorily stuffed with incongruous peppers and ham, and barely cooked – this is immensely more disturbing, and must have originated at the darkest, bleakest hour of the Battle of Britain, a time when Marguerite surely believed she’d never again have a chance to grab some warm balls and stuff them in her mouth.

As for the dessert, well, the meringue and berries bear witness to a more hopeful, cheery state of mind, and must have been dreamed up when the war ended and the soldiers were coming home – the only possible reason for dying green some perfectly fine apple sauce being Marguerite, hormones frothing up, getting hypnotized by the returning tommies’ green uniforms, and the wondrous rounded pleasurelands hiding underneath."

I should like to point out that this juncture that it was the reviewer who 'accidentally' pulled out three ball-featuring recipes from the box, not Mrs Patten who forced him to choose them. I am just saying.

Pip pip!

* I fear the only use she had for olive oil was the type of olive oil that came in a little bottle from Boots for the loosening of earwax.


Mrs Jones said...

I cannot tell you how irrationally excited I am that you're doing Marguerite Patten again! This is a PROPER project and I applaud you mightily for it. We also had those recipe cards at home (but in English) although I don't remember my mother ever using them. She did pass on to me her Good Housekeeping's Cookery Compendium enormous, weighty tome of recipes that was published in the late 1950s, long before garlic was invented and spag bol was considered exotic. It contains instructions on for e.g., making brawn which contains lines like 'scrape the hairs from the ears and remove veins before boiling the head'. I'm never going to eat brawn having read that, never mind make it...

PurestGreen said...

I also love that you are doing this project. This line made me laugh histerically, but only after I saw the photos of the apples and said outloud to my empty living room: "groosssss."
"looks like a tiny child has thrown up a pizza on a cheap beach ball."

The green food colouring was a bit suspect as well. You are a brave person. Good luck with the next cards.


Thank you loyal readers and fans for your supportive comments. In these dark days, where I find myself increasingly concerned about the sublimated homo-erotic preferences of my husband, I find it deeply reassuring to know that you are there, cheering me on (figuratively speaking!) from the sidelines.

And yes, your eyes are not deceiving you: I updated the post with the last-minute review and took out the music stuff - more on that tomorrow. Probably.

Mrs.B said...

That is all breast-shaped actually. Next, in order to satisfy the homo-eroticnessness, try something sausagy, asparagusy or corn on the coby if you must.
Best of all just stop with this gourmet unpleasantness, are making me want to be sick down my nose with this seventies tosh and guff.
Mmmm lovely modern food with flavour and adequate portions and no gimmicks etc.


Mrs B, if you do not like it, do not read it. For the things you require, see Smitten Kitchen on the right somewhere.

Mrs.B said...

Oh I like and will continue to read but fear for your future if you persist in putting yourself and pathologist through such nastiness. Torture yourself with DIY or even listen to Sting...but be kinder to your innards for one day you may require them to digest something.


No way, we both love it. Without the project we would have nothing to do and/or talk about. But do not be concerned, for we are only able to do it once a fortnight or so, what with the danger of "8 ounces shortening", which can often be on the list. Fingers crossed for something less frightening less time, e.g. something involving aspic and/or tongue. Or maybe both.

Mrs.B said...

OK now I have been sick UP my own nose.

Only wish to hear from you if you magic chutney from sweetbreads.


Anything is possible, dear Mrs B. Do not underestimate the power of the Patten.

LutraLutra said...

Good heavens. I'm not sure about the Paniers aux fruits at all. The green goo looks like that expanding foam stuff you squirt into walls. Well done for eating it.

Mrs.B said...

Excellent. It is uplifting to hear your hideous food tales in the knowledge that worse is yet to come. Hoorah !


You will not BELIEVE what the pathologist has just pulled out of the box for next week. We are in hysterics. The words "cucumber juice" have been used. Holy moly.

Mrs.B said...

Life is too short to juice a cucumber. But I cannot deny i look forward to the photos.


That is the work of the pathologist. He is 'not bad', even if I suspect he is looking forward to "juicing the cucumbers" a little too much

Mrs.B said...

Oh stop with your newly-wed innuendos. Phallic veggies are for the young and lusty.

punxxi said...

you need at the very least, parmesan cheese in your tomatoes and there are very few foods that can't be improved with the addition of garlic, onion and olive oil...except poutine

mondraussie said...

well all kudos to you both for actually eating that... apples stuffed with ham and peppers?? and as for that foaming green desert, wtf is all that about... i see that cucumber juice and other treats are on the menu for next week.. i can hardly wait!


Mrs B, I am referring to his repressed homosexual tendencies!!!!

PUNXXI YOU KNOW BETTER THAN THAT!!! IT IS ALL ABOUT doing it exactly like Mrs P says. i agree about garlic onions etc mind you. I love garlic. Yes. Garlic.


Mondraussie, just you bloody well wait. One of them is literally amazing. Like, amazing that anyone, ever, would ever bother to do it, and amazing that anyone would want to eat it. Except I will make it and we will eat it, and then we will tell you about it. Oh yes.

Baron d'Ormesan said...

Perhaps there was a translation error and the main course was meant to be peppers stuffed with ham and apple or ham stuffed with apple and peppers: either would be a more plausible concoction, although of course this assumes that the photos would taken for the translated version.

I doubt that any ball envy/fixation in the recipes arose from sex starvation during the War. I had always understood that everyone was at it like knives (or forks or spoons, according to choice). My father, who was then a dashing airman - as in the cherry rhyme - once told me that the downstairs bar at the Ritz was out of bounds to all RAF personnel because it was such a well-known gay pick-up joint.

But cucumber juice sounds very moderne. I think you should let Heston Blumenthal know you are catching up rapidly.

Baron d'Ormesan said...

For "would" in the last line of my first para, read "were". Sorry. I've just decided to inherit a title and it's gone to my head.

Anonymous said...

i'm really hoping someone will make a fillum about your endeavours and call it 'monkey and marguerite' or some such. i think it will be a BIG HIT!

Lola said...

I've had to do an exam today so I'm way down the comments list and can't be bothered to pretend to be Marguerite today. I've got a fried brain as well, from remembering 1000000 different official documents and the stupid dates they were published.

Anyway, I am overjoyed at the hideous nature of two out of three dishes - whatever happened to your meringues? Why are they orange? They look like they've escaped from some computer game. And I cannot imagine why Marguerite (or anyone else) would consider ham and part-cooked apple to be anything other than vile.

[WV is more appropriate than anything I could make up: mingoniz. It's obviously French-Canadian for something like 'minging balls'.]

KH said...

Hello NWM - it is good to find you. Team Gearey recommend you highly and I hope sometime to either meet you in London on one of your stops or Montreal on one of ours. Here is my blog (although it says 'daily rant' in the title, it does not happen as often as I would like!):
Safe travels to London xx kris


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