A Book of Mediterranean Food

by Unknown

  Eggs and Luncheon Dishes

  Henry James’s Luncheon at Bourg

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  ‘THE well-fed Bressois are surely a good-natured people. I call them well-fed both on general and on particular grounds. Their province has the most savoury aroma, and I found an opportunity to test its reputation. I walked back into the town from the church (there was really nothing to be seen by the way), and as the hour of the midday breakfast had struck, directed my steps to the inn. The table d’hôte was going on, and a gracious, bustling, talkative landlady welcomed me. I had an excellent repast – the best repast possible – which consisted simply of boiled eggs and bread and butter. It was the quality of these simple ingredients that made the occasion memorable. The eggs were so good that I am ashamed to say how many of them I consumed. “La plus belle fille du monde”, as the French proverb says, “ne peut donner que ce qu’elle a”; and it might seem that an egg which has succeeded in being fresh has done all that can reasonably be expected of it. But there was a bloom of punctuality, so to speak, about these eggs of Bourg, as if it had been the intention of the very hens themselves that they should be promptly served. “Nous sommes en Bresse, et le beurre n’est pas mauvais,” the landlady said with a sort of dry coquetry, as she placed this article before me. It was the poetry of butter, and I ate a pound or two of it; after which I came away with a strange mixture of impressions of late gothic sculpture and thick tartines.’

  A Little Tour in France

  by Henry James

  THE SAVOURY OMELETTE

  Egg dishes and omelettes are the perfect dishes for small luncheons. Everyone has favourite recipes for these, so I have only included a very few.

  As far as omelettes are concerned I cannot do better than to quote ‘Wyvern’s’ wholly admirable views on the subject:

  ‘The recipe for this omelette differs somewhat from those usually propounded, being that of the cuisinière bourgeoise rather than that of the Chef. The latter looks very nice, and is often finished tastefully with a pattern skilfully wrought with glaze, cordons of purées and other decoration. To my mind the omelette suffers in being made so pretty, and is not as good a thing to eat as that of roadside inn or cabaret.

  ‘An omelette ought never to be stiff enough to retain a very neatly rolled-up appearance. If cooked with proper rapidity it should be too light to present a fixed form, and on reaching the hot dish should spread itself, rather, on account of the delicacy of its substance. Books that counsel you to turn an omelette, to fold it, to let it brown on one side, to let it fry for about five minutes, etc., are not to be trusted. If you follow such advice you will only produce, at best, a neat-looking egg pudding.

  ‘Timed by the seconds hand of a watch, an omelette of six eggs, cooked according to my method “by the first intention”, takes forty-five seconds from the moment of being poured into the pan to that of being turned into the dish.

  ‘Though cream is considered by some to be an improvement, I do not recommend it. Milk is certainly a mistake, for it makes the omelette leathery. I confess that I like a very little minced chives in all savoury omelettes; but this is a matter of taste. Finely chopped parsley should be added with a seasoning of salt and pepper. The general rules to be observed in omelette-making, according to my process, then, may be thus summed up:

  ‘1. Mix thoroughly but do not beat the eggs, and never use more than six for one omelette, omitting two of the whites.

  ‘2. It is better to make two of six than one of twelve eggs. Success is impossible if the vessel be too full. If using four eggs omit one white.

  ‘3. Three eggs mixed whole make a nice-sized omelette, quite the best for the beginner to commence with.

  ‘4. Use a proper utensil, rather shallow, with narrow, well-sloping sides; a twelve-inch fireproof china pan will be found excellent; see that it is clean and quite dry.

  ‘5. Do not overdo the amount of butter that you use for the frying – enough to lubricate the pan evenly to the extent of a quarter of an inch is sufficient.

  ‘6. Be sure that your pan is ready to receive your mixture. If not hot enough your omelette will be leathery, or you will have to mix it in the pan like scrambled eggs (oeufs brouillés).

  ‘7. The moment the butter ceases to fizz and turns brownish, the moisture having been expelled, the pan is ready.

  ‘8. Pour the mixture into the pan so that it may spread well over the lubricated surface, then instantly lift up the part of the omelette that sets at the moment of contact, and let the unformed portion run under it; repeat this two or three times if the pan be at all full, keep the left hand at work with a gentle see-saw motion to encourage rapidity in setting, give a finishing shake, and turn the omelette into the hot dish before the whole of the mixture on the surface has quite set.

  ‘9. The omelette, slightly assisted by the spoon, will roll over almost of its own accord if the sides of the pan be sloped as I have described, burying within it the slightly unformed juicy part of the mixture which remained on the surface; it will not require folding.

  ‘10. Three-quarters of a minute is ample time for the whole operation, if the pan be properly hot when the mixture is poured into it, and the heat evenly maintained.

  ‘11. Have the hot dish close by the fire, so that you can turn the omelette into it instanter. A little melted butter, with some chopped parsley and chives, may, with advantage, be put into the dish.

  ‘12. It is above all things necessary to have a brisk fire under the pan while the omelette is being cooked. A fair-sized gas boiler serves the purpose. The small three-egg omelette can be made successfully over a powerful methylated spirit lamp. The ordinary kitchen fire is unsuited for this work unless it can be brought up level with the hot plate, with a clear live coal surface.

  ‘As it lies in the dish this omelette will not look like a bolster – it will take a natural, rather flat, irregular oval shape, golden yellow in colour, and flecked with green, with the juicy part escaping from beneath its folds.’*

  Colonel Kenney-Herbert’s ‘twelve-inch fireproof china pan’ would be difficult to come by nowadays, but there are plenty of substitutes, and even heavy iron omelette pans can, with trouble, be found in England.

  ETIQUETTE

  Regarding the world of subtlety which can be infused into the serving of a dish of eggs, I cannot resist quoting here the lucid opinion of a French cook, as related by Gertrude Stein.

  ‘The dinner was cooked by Hélène. I must tell a little about Hélène.

  ‘Hélène had already been three years with Gertrude Stein and her brother. She was one of those admirable bonnes, in other words excellent maids of all work, good cooks thoroughly occupied with the welfare of their employers and of themselves, firmly convinced that everything purchasable was far too dear. “Oh, but it is dear!” was her answer to any question. She wasted nothing and carried on the household at the regular rate of 8 francs a day. She even wanted to include guests at that price, it was her pride, but of course that was difficult since she for the honour of her house as well as to satisfy her employers always had to give everyone enough to eat. She was a most excellent cook and she made a very good soufflé. In those days most of the guests were living more or less precariously; no one starved, someone always helped, but still most of them did not live in abundance. It was Braque who said about four years later when they were all beginning to be known, with a sigh and a smile, “How life has changed! We all now have cooks who can make a soufflé.”

  ‘Hélène had her opinions; she did not, for instance, like Matisse. She said a Frenchman should not stay unexpectedly to a meal, particularly if he asked the servant beforehand what there was for dinner. She said foreigners had a perfect right to do these things but not a Frenchman, and Matisse had once done it. So when Miss Stein said to her, “Monsieur Matisse is staying for dinner this evening,” she would say, “In that case I will not make an omelette but fry the eggs. It takes the same number of e
ggs and the same amount of butter but it shows less respect, and he will understand.” ’*

  TARTE À L’OIGNON ET AUX OEUFS

  7 oz flour, 2 oz butter, 1½ oz lard, ¼ tumbler water, salt.

  Make a paste with all the ingredients and spread it in a buttered flan dish.

  Have ready the following preparation:

  Put 1½ lb of onions into boiling salted water and cook them until they are reduced to a purée. Mix this purée with a large cup of rather thick béchamel (p. 182).

  Spread the mixture on the uncooked pastry. Arrange more strips of pastry criss-cross over the onions and bake about 45 minutes.

  Serve with poached eggs on top.

  RATATOUILLE AUX OEUFS

  1 lb potatoes, ¾ lb onions, 2 cloves of garlic, 3 small marrows, 3 tomatoes, 3 green pimentos, eggs, olive oil, lard.

  Clean all the vegetables and cut them into rounds. Into a heavy frying pan put half a glass of oil and 2 tablespoons of lard; put in the vegetables, season with salt and pepper, and simmer with the pan covered for 45 minutes, and another 30 minutes without the lid.

  Turn into a serving dish and place on top a fried egg for each person.

  OEUFS EN MATELOTE

  Cook ½ pint of red wine with herbs, onion, garlic, salt and pepper. Boil for 3 minutes and take out the herbs. In the wine poach 6 eggs, put them on slices of fried bread rubbed with garlic. Quickly reduce the sauce and thicken it with butter worked with flour and pour over the eggs.

  CHATCHOUKA

  A Tunisian dish.

  6 small green pimentos, 8 tomatoes, 4 eggs, butter or olive oil.

  Remove the cores and seeds from the pimentos and cut them in strips. Heat a little oil or butter in a shallow earthenware dish. In this stew the pimentos, and add the tomatoes, whole, when the pimentos are half cooked. Season with salt and pepper. When the tomatoes are soft, break in the eggs, whole, and cover the pan until they are cooked. Serve in the dish in which they have cooked. Sometimes a little chopped or minced chicken or meat is cooked with the pimentos, sometimes onions, and sometimes the Chatchouka is cooked in individual earthenware egg dishes.

  HUEVOS AL PLATO A LA BARCINO

  A Spanish dish.

  6 eggs, ¼ lb of leg of pork, 2 oz ham, 2 oz butter, ½ lb tomatoes, 1 oz flour, an onion, a little stock.

  Slice the onion, the ham, and the pork into small strips; let them melt in the butter; when they have turned golden stir in the flour, add the chopped tomatoes and about ¼ pint of meat stock. Simmer this sauce gently for 20 minutes or so, until it is very thick, and season with pepper and salt. Turn it into a fireproof egg dish, break in the eggs, and cook in the oven until the whites have set.

  OMELETTE AU BROCCIU

  Brocciu is the Corsican cheese made of ewe-milk which gives a characteristic salty tang to many Corsican dishes.

  The eggs and cheese are beaten up together, with the addition of chopped wild mint, and made into a flat round omelette.

  OMELETTE AUX MOULES

  Prepare a mixture of onion lightly browned in olive oil, flavoured with garlic, parsley, and a little white wine.

  Add the cooked shelled mussels to this, and at the appropriate moment add them to your omelette, which is served with a little tomato sauce in addition.

  MOUSAKÁ

  A dish well known all over the Balkans, Turkey, and the Middle East. This is the Greek version.

  First prepare a thick batter by cooking together 2 beaten egg yolks and ½ pint of milk, seasoned with salt and pepper, until it is like a very solid custard. Leave to cool.

  Mince 1 lb of cooked beef or lamb very fine. Fry 3 large sliced onions in oil till brown. Cut 3 or 4 unpeeled aubergines into large slices and fry in hot oil.

  Put some more oil into a deep square or oblong cake tin* and cover the bottom with aubergines; cover the aubergines with the minced meat, and this with the fried onions. Repeat till all the ingredients are in the dish. Then put in ½ cup each of meat stock and fresh tomato sauce, cover with the prepared batter mixture and put the dish in a moderate oven (gas no. 4) for about an hour. The batter should form a kind of crust on the top of the mousaká, and should be golden brown. Usually served hot, but also very good cold. Can also be reheated very successfully.

  TARTE AUX TOMATES

  Make a pastry with ½ lb of flour, ¼ lb of butter, an egg, and a pinch of salt.

  Line a shallow tin with the pastry, and pour into it a thick béchamel sauce (p. 182) into which you have incorporated 2 tablespoons of concentrated tomato purée. On top of this put some stoned black olives and some chicken livers which have been chopped and sautéd in butter for 2 or 3 minutes. Cover with a layer of tomatoes cut in half and grilled for a couple of minutes. Bake in a moderate oven until the pastry is cooked.

  SCALOPPINE OF CALF’S LIVER WITH PIMENTOS

  1 lb calf’s liver cut in thin slices, 4 sweet red pimentos, a small wine glass white wine, lemon juice, salt, pepper, a little flour, olive oil.

  Prepare the pimentos by putting them under the grill and turning them round until their skins have blackened. When they have cooled, rub off the skins, remove the core and seeds, wash them in cold water, and cut into strips.

  Season the slices of liver with salt, pepper, and lemon juice. Dust them lightly with flour. Put them into a frying pan in which you have heated half a coffeecupful of olive oil, and sauté them quickly on both sides; pour over the white wine (keep out of the way of the sizzling oil), let it bubble, add the pimentos, and cook gently another 5 minutes.

  ROGNONS BRAISÉS AU PORTO

  The beauty of this dish depends on the aroma of the truffle permeating the wine and the kidneys, and the pan must be kept carefully covered during the cooking.

  Cut 1 lb veal kidneys in slices. Put in a shallow sauté pan with 1 onion cut up, salt, pepper, a piece of lemon peel, a bay leaf, and a sliced truffle. Cover with half water and half port. Cover the pan and stew very slowly for about 1½ hours. Add some mushrooms already sautéd in butter, thicken the sauce with a little flour or cream, and cook another 10 minutes.

  LANGUE DE BOEUF EN PAUPIETTES

  Remove the horny part from an ox-tongue; blanch it in boiling water for 15 minutes and then cook in a casserole until the skin can be removed. When cold cut in thin slices and cover each piece with a layer of meat stuffing; paint over with a knife dipped in beaten egg to unify the stuffing, roll the slices, put a small piece of bacon on each and tie up or pierce with a skewer. These should be roasted in front of the fire but can be cooked in the oven in a casserole. When they are almost cooked sprinkle breadcrumbs over the paupiettes, and when they are a golden brown serve with a sauce piquante (p. 186).

  PISSALADINA or PISSALADIÈRE

  This dish is one of the delights of Marseilles, Toulon, and the Var country, where it is sold in the market places and the bakeries in the early morning and can be bought, piping hot, by the slice, off big iron trays.

  Get from the baker a piece of uncooked bread, pull it out and spread a baking sheet with it. Cover the bottom of a saucepan with olive oil. Add 2 lb of sliced onions; do not brown them but let them slowly melt almost to a purée, which will take about 40 minutes. Pour the purée on to the dough, put stoned black olives on the top and decorate it with criss-cross fillets of anchovy. Cook in the oven.

  If bread dough is unobtainable, an excellent dish can be made by spreading the onion purée into a tin lined with the same pastry as for the tarte à l’oignon (p. 35) or thick slices of bread cut length-ways from a sandwich loaf. Fry one side lightly in olive oil, spread this side with the purée, put in a tin in the oven with a little more oil and cook about 10 minutes.

  The flavour of the olive oil is essential to this dish.

  Further along the coast, across the Italian border, these dishes baked on bread dough are called pizza, which simply means a pie, and there are many variations of them, the best known being the Neapolitan pizza which consists of tomatoes, anchovies, and mozzarella cheese (a white buffalo-milk cheese). The
local pizza of San Remo is very like the Provençal pissaladière, but garnished with salted sardines instead of anchovies; it is known locally as sardenara.

  If you can get yeast from a local bakery which makes its own bread, the dough for a pizza or a pissaladière can be made as follows: dissolve a little under ¼ oz of yeast in a little tepid water; pour ¼ lb of plain flour in a mound on a pastry board; make a well in the centre, put in the yeast and a teaspoonful of salt. Fold the flour over the yeast, and blend all together. Add about ⅛ pint of water and knead to a stiff dough. Press the dough out and away from you with the palm of the hand, holding the dough with the other hand. When the dough begins to feel light and springy roll it into a ball, put it on a floured plate, cover with a floured cloth, and leave in a warm place for 2 to 3 hours, by which time it should have risen, and doubled in volume.

  To make the pissaladière roll out the dough into a large disc or square (about ¼ inch thick) and garnish it with the onions, black olives, and anchovies, prepared as already explained, and bake in a fairly hot oven for 20 to 30 minutes.

  ANCHOÏADE

  There are several versions of this Provençal dish.

  The one I know (and like best) is made in much the same way as pissaladina, but instead of the onion mixture the uncooked dough is spread with a mixture of anchovies, tomatoes half cooked in olive oil and highly flavoured with garlic and basil, and then baked in the oven.

  Here is Reboul’s recipe for anchoïade. ‘Soak some fillets of anchovies in water for a few minutes to remove the salt. Place them in a dish with some olive oil, a pinch of pepper and 2 or 3 cloves of garlic cut up. You can also add a drop of vinegar. Cut the crust lengthways off a whole long loaf, about an inch thick, and cut this in pieces so that there is one for each guest; on each put some fillets of anchovy, and put each slice on a plate.

  ‘Cut some more slices of bread in squares. Each person soaks his slice alternately in the prepared oil and anchovy mixture in the dish and then crushes it down on the anchovies and bread in his own plate. When all is finished, anchovies and sauce, the pieces of bread which remain are toasted before the fire. There results a characteristic aroma which rejoices every amateur of Provençal cooking, and is the delight of many gastronomes.’