South Wind Through the Kitchen: The Best of Elizabeth David
400
South Wind Through the Kitchen: The Best of Elizabeth David
400Hardcover
-
PICK UP IN STORECheck Availability at Nearby Stores
Available within 2 business hours
Related collections and offers
Overview
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781906502904 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Grub Street |
| Publication date: | 03/31/2011 |
| Pages: | 400 |
| Product dimensions: | 5.40(w) x 7.90(h) x 1.30(d) |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
HORS-D' ŒUVRE
From the luxurious pâté of truffled goose or duck liver of Alsace to the homely household terrine de campagne, from the assiette de fruits de mer of the expensive sea-food restaurant to the simple little selection of olives, radishes, butter, sliced sausage and egg mayonnaise of the café routier, an hors-d'œuvre is the almost invariable start to the French midday meal. The English visitor to France cannot fail to observe that the artistry with which the French present their food is nowhere more apparent than in the service of the hors-d'œuvre. So far from appearing contrived, or zealously worked on, each dish looks as if it had been freshly imagined, prepared for the first time, especially for you.
Now, since the main object of an hors-d'œuvre is to provide something beautifully fresh-looking which will at the same time arouse your appetite and put you in good spirits, this point is very important and nothing could be less calculated to have the right effect than the appearance of the little bits of straggling greenery, blobs of mayonnaise and wrinkled radishes which show all too clearly that the food has been over-handled and that it has been standing about for some hours before it was time to serve it. And the place for wilted lettuce leaves is the dustbin, not the hors-d'œuvre dish. What is the matter with a plain, straightforward half avocado pear, a mound of freshly boiled prawns, a few slices of good fresh salame, that they must be arranged on top of these eternal lettuce leaves? I swear I am not exaggerating when I say that in London restaurants I have even had pâté de foie gras served on that weary prop lettuce leaf....
Now here are one or two ideas from France which have struck me as being particularly attractive for the service of an hors-d'œuvre.
To start with the north, where the ingredients obtainable are not so very different from our own, I remember the big airy first-floor dining-room of the Hôtel de la Poste at Duclair. At a table overlooking the Seine we sat with a bottle of Muscadet while waiting for luncheon. Presently a rugged earthenware terrine, worn with the patina of years, containing the typical duck pâté of the country, was put upon the table, and with it a mound of rillettes de porc; to be followed at a suitable interval with a number of little dishes containing plain boiled langoustines (we used to know them as Dublin Bay prawns before they turned into Venetian scampi), shrimps also freshly boiled with exactly the right amount of salt; winkles, a cork stuck with pins to extract them from their shells; sardines and anchovies both in their deep square tins to show that they were high-class brands. Then a variety of little salads each with a different seasoning, and forming, in white-lined brown dishes, a wonderfully imaginative-looking array, although in fact there was nothing very startling.
There were thinly sliced cucumbers, little mushrooms in a red-gold sauce, tomatoes, cauliflower vinaigrette, carrots grated almost to a purée (delicious, this one), herring fillets. The colours were skilfully blended but sober. The pale rose-pinks of the langoustines, the pebbly black of the winkles, the different browns of the anchovies and herrings and the dishes themselves, the muted greens of the cucumber and cauliflower, the creams and greys of shrimps and mushrooms contrasted with the splash of red tomatoes, the glowing orange of the carrots, and yellow mayonnaise shining in a separate bowl. Each of these things was differently, and very sparingly, seasoned. Each had its own taste and was firm and fresh. The shrimps and the langoustines smelt of the sea. And with the exception of the duck pâté there was nothing in the least complicated. It was all a question of taste, care, and the watchful supervision of the proprietor. And although there was such a large selection, larger probably than one would want to serve at home, it had no resemblance at all to one of those trolleys loaded with a tray of sixty dishes which may look very varied but in fact all taste the same, and which almost certainly indicate that the rest of your meal is going to be indifferent.
This is what food connoisseurs condemn when they say that a mixed horsd'œuvre is not only unnecessary but positively detrimental to the enjoyment of a good meal; on the other hand, a nicely presented and well-composed hors-d'œuvre does much to reassure the guests as to the quality of the rest of the cooking, and to put them in the right frame of mind to enjoy it.
I vividly remember, for instance, the occasion when, having stopped for petrol at a filling station at Remoulins near the Pont du Gard, we decided to go into the café attached to it, and have a glass of wine. It was only eleven o'clock in the morning but for some reason we were very hungry. The place was empty, but we asked if we could have some bread, butter and sausage. Seeing that we were English, the old lady in charge tried to give us a ham sandwich, and when we politely but firmly declined this treat she went in search of the patron to ask what she should give us.
He was an intelligent and alert young man who understood at once what we wanted. In a few minutes he reappeared and set before us a big rectangular platter in the centre of which were thick slices of home-made pork and liver pâté, and on either side fine slices of the local raw ham and sausage; these were flanked with black olives, green olives, freshly-washed radishes still retaining some of their green leaves, and butter.
By the time we had consumed these things, with wine and good fresh bread, we realized that this was no ordinary café routier. The patron was pleased when we complimented him on his pâté and told us that many of his customers came to him specially for it. It was now nearly midday and the place was fast filling up with these customers. They were lorry drivers, on their way from Sète, on the coast, up through France with their immense tanker lorries loaded with Algerian wine. The noise and bustle and friendly atmosphere soon made us realize that this must be the most popular place in the neighbourhood. We stayed, of course, for lunch. Chance having brought us there it would have been absurd to stick to our original plans of driving on to some star restaurant or other where we probably wouldn't have eaten so well (my travels in France are studded with memories of the places to which I have taken a fancy but where I could not stop – the café at Silléry where the still champagne was so good, the restaurant at Bray-sur-Seine where we had a late breakfast of raw country ham, beautiful butter and fresh thin baguettes of bread, and longed to stay for lunch – inflexible planning is the enemy of good eating). But here at Remoulins we stayed, and enjoyed a good sound lunch, unusually well-presented for a café routier.
We came back the next night for a specially ordered dinner of Provençal dishes, for the proprietor was a Marseillais and his wife the daughter of the owners of the house which had been converted from a farm to a restaurant-filling station. The young man was a cook of rare quality, and the dinner he prepared to order put to shame the world-famous Provençal three-star establishment where we had dined a day or two previously. But had it not been for the appearance of the delicious hors-d'œuvre, which was so exactly the right food at the right moment, we should have had our drink and paid our bill and gone on our way not knowing....
Even simpler in composition was another hors-d'œuvre which was served us at a hotel at Les Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer. It consisted simply of a very large round dish, quite flat, completely covered with overlapping circles of thinly sliced saucisson d'Arles; in the centre was a cluster of shining little black olives. Nothing much, indeed, but the visual appeal of that plate of fresh country produce was so potent that we felt we were seeing, and tasting, Arles sausage and black olives for the very first time.
So you see one does not need caviar and oysters or truffled foie gras and smoked salmon or even pâtés and terrines and lobster cocktails to make a beautiful first course. One needs imagination and taste and a sense of moderation; one must be able to resist the temptation to overdo it and unbalance the whole meal by offering such a spread that the dishes to follow don't stand a chance; one must remember that eggs and vegetables with oil and mayonnaise dressings, and pâtés with their strong flavours and fat content and their accompaniments of bread or toast, are very filling but not quite satisfactory to make a meal of; so the different components of an horsd'œuvre must be chosen with great care if they are to fulfil their function of serving as appetizers rather than appetite killers.
To translate all this into practical terms I would say that a well composed mixed hors-d'œuvre consists, approximately, of something raw, something salt, something dry or meaty, something gentle and smooth and possibly something in the way of fresh fish. Simplified though it is, a choice based roughly on these lines won't be far wrong.
French Provincial Cooking
MUSHROOM SALAD
½ lb (225 g) mushrooms, olive oil, lemon juice, garlic, parsley, salt and pepper.
Buy if possible the large rather shaggy-looking variety of mushrooms. Wash them but do not peel them. Cut them in thinnish slices, leaving the stalks on. Put them in a bowl, squeeze lemon juice over them, stir in a little chopped garlic, season with ground black pepper, and pour a good deal of olive oil over them. Immediately before serving salt them and add more olive oil, as you will find they have absorbed the first lot. Sprinkle with parsley or, if you have it, basil, or a mixture of fresh marjoram and lemon thyme.
This is an expensive salad to make, as mushrooms absorb an enormous quantity of oil, but it is extremely popular, and particularly good with a grilled or roast chicken. Variations can be made by mixing the mushrooms with a few strips of raw fennel or with a cupful of cooked green peas.
For an hors-d'œuvre, mix the mushrooms with large cooked prawns.
Summer Cooking
CORIANDER MUSHROOMS
This is a quickly cooked little dish which makes a delicious cold horsd'œuvre. The aromatics used are similar to those which go into the well known champignons à la grecque, but the method is simpler, and the result even better.
Ingredients for three people are: 6 oz (170 g) firm, white, round and very fresh mushrooms, a teaspoon of coriander seeds, 2 tablespoons of olive oil, lemon juice, salt, freshly milled pepper, and one or two bay leaves.
Rinse the mushrooms, wipe them dry with a clean cloth, slice them (but do not peel them) into quarters, or if they are large into eighths. The stalks should be neatly trimmed. Squeeze over them a little lemon juice.
In a heavy frying pan or sauté pan, warm the olive oil. Into it put the coriander seeds which should be ready crushed in a mortar. Let them heat for a few seconds. Keep the heat low. Put in the mushrooms and the bay leaves. Add the seasoning. Let the mushrooms cook gently for a minute, cover the pan and leave them, still over very low heat, for another 3–5 minutes.
Uncover the pan. Decant the mushrooms – with all their juices – into a shallow serving dish and sprinkle them with fresh olive oil and lemon juice.
Whether the mushrooms are to be served hot or cold do not forget to put the bay leaf which has cooked with them into the serving dish. The combined scents of coriander and bay go to make up part of the true essence of the dish. And it is important to note that cultivated mushrooms should not be cooked for longer than the time specified.
In larger quantities, the same dish can be made as a hot vegetable to be eaten with veal or chicken.
Cooked mushrooms do not keep well, but a day or two in the refrigerator does not harm this coriander-spiced dish. It is also worth remembering that uncooked cultivated mushrooms can be stored in a plastic box in the refrigerator and will keep fresh for a couple of days.
Spices, Salt and Aromatics
TOMATES PROVENÇALES EN SALADE
Take the stalks off a large bunch of parsley; pound it with a little salt, in a mortar, with 2 cloves of garlic and a little olive oil.
Cut the tops off good raw tomatoes; with a teaspoon soften the pulp inside, sprinkle with salt, and turn them upside down so that the water drains out. Fill the tomatoes up with the parsley and garlic mixture. Serve them after an hour or two, when the flavour of the garlic and parsley has permeated the salad.
French Country Cooking
chosen by Sally Clarke
When I was twenty-one, freshly returned from a year of study in Paris, I wrote to Elizabeth David, whom I did not know, c/o 'the shop in Bourne Street', for advice. I had worked in three restaurants in Paris, spent three months at the Cordon Bleu school and decided that, as a result, I qualified as an informed and thoroughly capable 'writer'. The question was how to go about becoming one. As the weeks passed I forgot all about my desire to write. Then one afternoon, without warning, she telephoned me. I felt very stupid and a fraud – and, above all, I was shaking all over with nerves.
Although I went on, eventually, to become a restaurateur instead of a writer I shall never forget that day when she told me that to become a writer one needs to write and write and to keep sending the pieces to publishers and that one day, maybe one day, one may be accepted. Sound, sensible and obvious advice: very Mrs David, very to the point. Her guidance will continue to inspire generations as her thoughts and words speak of the pureness of the ingredient, the simplicity of their preparation, the importance of the seasons. How much I miss her. Sally Clarke
PEPERONI ALLA PIEMONTESE
Cut some red, yellow or green pimentos, or some of each if they are obtainable, in half lengthways. Take out all the seeds and wash the pimentos. If they are large, cut each half in half again. Into each piece put 2 or 3 slices of garlic, 2 small sections of raw tomato, about half a fillet of anchovy cut into pieces, a small nut of butter, a dessertspoonful of oil, a very little salt. Arrange these pimentos on a flat baking dish and cook them in a moderate oven (180°C/350°F/Gas Mark 4) for about 30 minutes. They are not to be completely cooked; the pimentos should in fact be al dente, the stuffing inside deliciously oily and garlicky.
Serve them cold, each garnished with a little parsley.
Italian Food
chosen by Lindsey Bareham and Leslie Zyw
This is one of the simplest, most stunning and delicious dishes I know. It is something I make constantly, particularly when I am entertaining en masse. It's tucked away in the lengthy antipasti insalate section of Italian Food where it might have stayed had it not been for the eagle eyes and good taste of Franco Taruschio, who put it on the menu of The Walnut Tree when it opened near Abergavenny in 1963.
Some years later, Simon Hopkinson was introduced to Piedmontese Peppers by a chef who had worked for Franco (Peter Gorton, now at the Horn of Plenty at Gulworthy in Devon); he was so impressed by its stylish simplicity and powerful Mediterranean flavours that he 'saved' it for his first menu at Bibendum. That is where I first sampled it. Lindsey Bareham
OLIVES
Italian olives present a fine variety of colours, shapes, sizes and textures. There are dark, luminous black olives from Gaeta; little coal-black olives of Rome, smoky and wrinkled; sloe-like black olives of Castellamare, like bright black eyes; olives brown and purple and yellow from Sardinia; Sicilian black olives in oil; olives of a dozen different greens; the bright, smooth, newly-gathered olives before they have been salted; the slightly yellower tinge they acquire after a week or two in the brine (how delicious they are before the salt has really penetrated); the giant green olives called cerignola, from Puglie; the bitter green olives with a very large stone known in Italy as olive spagnuole (Spanish olives); olives of all the greens of the evening sea.
As part of a simplified hors-d'œuvre, consisting of salame, tomatoes, and a country cheese, black olives are by far the best. If they seem too salt when bought, put them in a jar and cover them with olive oil. This is, in any case, the best way to store them at home. Generally speaking, for green olives, the small oval ones are the best. They can be kept in the same way as the black; and, if you like, add a little cut garlic to the oil and a piece of chilli or dried red pepper.
Italian Food
chosen by Annie Davies
When I went to work for Elizabeth at her shop in Bourne Street in 1970 I had read all her books without cooking a single meal. Via them I had journeyed through France and around the Mediterranean; Italian Food I especially loved. Like her books, the shop was a demonstration that food could be something more than just eating, and preparing meals more than just cooking: the aesthetic element was as strong as the gastronomic. Elizabeth was acutely sensitive to the look of things, particularly shapes and colours, the raw ingredients, the utensils used to cook them and the dishes to serve them in. It still seems to me that the books can be read for themselves, miles from any kitchen, such is the power of her writing and her ability to evoke not only the pleasure of cooking and eating, but the simple beauty of food and wine. Annie Davies
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "South Wind Through the Kitchen"
by .
Copyright © 2010 Grub Street.
Excerpted by permission of Grub Street.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Introduction by Jill Norman,
Books by Elizabeth David,
Editor's Note,
Introduction to Mediterranean Food,
Provence,
HORS-D'ŒUVRE,
Paris,
Pleasing Cheeses,
SOUPS,
Buffet Food,
Oriental Picnics,
English Picnic Meats,
EGGS AND CHEESE,
The Markets of France: Martigues,
Italian Fish Markets,
Oules of Sardines,
FISH, SHELLFISH AND CRUSTACEA,
Chez Barattero,
La Charcuterie,
MEAT,
Have It Your Way,
Pomiane, Master of the Unsacrosanct,
POULTRY AND GAME,
The Markets of France: Cavaillon,
Trufflesville Regis,
VEGETABLES,
Bruscandoli,
Fresh Herbs,
PASTA, PULSES AND GRAINS,
Fast and Fresh,
Mrs Leyel,
Officer of the Kitchen,
SAUCES,
The Christmas Pudding is Mediterranean Food,
SWEET DISHES AND CAKES,
Lorraine,
PRESERVES,
Have We A Choice?,
BREAD AND YEAST COOKERY,
Storage of Bread,
Wine in the Kitchen,
Ladies' Halves,
Table Jewellery,
Cathay to Caledonia,
Index,
Illustrations in this anthology,
What People are Saying About This
"The best food writer of her time."— Jane Grigson, The (London) Times Literary Supplement