French Provincial Cooking (29 page)

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. Then, apart from the selection of these things described in more detail below, there are a few French hors-d’œuvre which are nearly always served on their own, such things as poached or
mollet
eggs in a tarragon-flavoured aspic jelly, a salad made from the sliced boiled beef of the
pot-au-feu, crevettes bouquet
(large freshly boiled prawns served plain with lemon and salt),
salade niçoise
and
artichauts vinaigrette.

These are for the raw, crisp element of an hors-d’œuvre. They consist of sliced very firm raw tomatoes, dressed with the minimum of oil, lemon and seasoning, sprinkled with finely chopped parsley. Cucumber sliced very thin and dressed in the same way. Radishes, washed, trimmed of excess greenery but left otherwise as God made them, rather than disguised as water lilies. Raw Florentine fennel, the outer leaves removed, the heart cut into quarters, and sprinkled with plenty of lemon juice to prevent it turning brown. Or alternatively cut into fine strips and dressed with oil, salt, lemon. Celery treated the same way. Very young raw broad beans piled on a dish in their pods, to be eaten
à /a croque
au sel,
i.e. simply with salt. Raw red or green peppers, cut into the thinnest of rounds, all seeds and core carefully removed, dressed with oil; prepared in advance and perhaps mixed with a few black olives.

Raw carrots
(carottes râpées)
very finely grated, the red part only, the yellow core being discarded; the resulting preparation almost a purée, is mixed with a very small amount of finely chopped shallot, a little oil, lemon juice, salt and a pinch of sugar if necessary, depending on the quality of the carrots.

Céleri-rave rémoulade,
peeled and washed raw celeriac, shredded on the special crinkled blade of the mandoline into match-size strips, put straight into a bowl of acidulated water to preserve its colour; blanched a few seconds in boiling salted water, drained very dry, mixed with a thick mayonnaise very highly seasoned with salt, mustard and a good deal more vinegar than is ordinarily allowed.

One would not, of course, have all these things at the same time, the choice depending a good deal upon the time of year; only very small quantities of each should be served, so that nobody will be tempted to eat too much before the main course.

With a
plat de crudités
is usually served either a slice or two of
pâté de campagne,
salame sausage or raw ham; in the south, olives and anchovies, or tunny fish in oil; in the north, pickled gherkins and sardines or fillets of mackerel in white wine; and if there is no other rich sauce, possibly an egg mayonnaise.

Under this heading come all pork products such as the cured salame type of sausage, hams raw and cooked, galantines and the like. A
charcutier,
or pork butcher, also sells various other foods in the form of cooked or cured meats, pâtés, ready prepared dishes, and sausages for cooking; but for the moment we are only concerned with those which are served as cold hors-d’œuvre.

Nearly every province in France produces its own special variety of ham, the most renowned being that of Bayonne, which is in fact produced in the Orthez district of the Béarn; the hams of the Auvergne and of that part of Burgundy known as the Morvan, of Alsace and of Lorraine are equally prized, and one comes across any amount of locally cured hams all over the country, many of which are very good, although none, I think, has quite such a fine flavour as the famous Italian hams of Parma. The only French ham which ever appears in England is that of Bayonne, and it can be served with figs or melon, or just with butter, in the same way as the
prosciutto di Parma.
But look out for imitations with little or no merit. The so-called Bayonne ham from Denmark, heavily smoked, has no relation to the original article, for real Bayonne ham is very lightly smoked, sometimes not at all. (It is a common misconception that all hams eaten raw, including that of Parma, are smoked. It is not the case.)

Very little in the way of French
charcuterie
is at present exported to England, but instead of the cured sausage of Aries or Lyon or other country districts (a particularly good one called the
rosette
is to be found in the Ardèche, and another with the curious name of
Judru
is a speciality of the little town of Chagny in the Côte d’Or) we can buy Italian salame which is at least as good, if not better.

When buying it make sure that it is the genuine Italian variety, very fresh, of a deep rose colour, and the fat very white. If the fat is yellow, or the sausage dry and cracked, it is not worth buying. If you serve salame often, it is an economy to buy a whole sausage, or at least a half one; keep it hanging up in the larder or some other airy place in a net or string bag, and slice it as it is needed. Cut it very thin, and serve it as described above, in overlapping rows on a flat round or oval dish, with perhaps a few olives in the centre, but never messed up on a plate with salads or any other hors-d’œuvre with a sauce.

Among the commonest and cheapest hors-d’œuvre in France, to be bought at every cooked meat shop and on the market stalls, are the salads of
museau de bœuf
and
museau de porc,
ox muzzle or pig’s snout; these are sold ready seasoned with a good deal of chopped shallot, parsley and a vinaigrette dressing. To prepare them at home is a lengthy process, for the meat must be first salted for a day or so, then simmered very gently for about four hours until quite tender, then sliced and seasoned. The same sort of salad can be made from any gelatinous meat such as brisket, ox cheek, calf’s and pig’s head, shin and so on. It should be cut thinly into small rectangular slices and seasoned, if possible, while still warm. A recipe for making one of these salads on a large scale, for a party, is on page 147. Recipes for pates and terrines will be found on pages 217-21.

The salt element in the hors-d’œuvre is nearly always supplied by olives, anchovies or salt herrings. Whenever possible, buy loose olives, choosing the smaller varieties, the bigger ones being more suitable for cooking. Store them in jars, covered with oil, and they will keep well and always be to hand when needed. The little Spanish green olives stuffed with anchovies or hazel nuts which are imported in tins are delicious. Unless you consume a vast quantity of anchovies it is best to buy the little 2 oz. tins of anchovy fillets in oil rather than the big tins, which soon go stale after they are opened. Herrings in brine vary so much in quality that it is impossible to give any specific instructions, but if they are too salt they should be steeped in half milk, half water, drained, and then dressed with a vinaigrette, with a little chopped hard-boiled egg and a few capers as a garnish.

A salad of cooked vegetables supplies the soft element of an hors-d’œuvre; it may be potato salad, white haricot beans, beetroot, leeks, french beans. Boil them, in the case of potatoes and beetroots, in their skins. Keep them firm; drain them carefully. Always skin and season them while still hot with a dressing of oil, vinegar or lemon, salt, pepper; a little mustard if you like. According to taste add a little chopped shallot or garlic; parsley, chives or tarragon. Recipes for various vegetable salads are given below. See also the chapter on vegetables.

A rice salad, mixed with a few little prawns or strips of sweet pepper, comes into the same category; again, keep the rice on the firm side; season while hot, not forgetting a little nutmeg and tarragon vinegar as well as oil, salt and pepper. The detailed recipe for rice salad is on page 151.

In spite of the name, this method of preparing vegetables to be served cold is typically French, and also provides the soft, emollient element in a mixed hors-d’œuvre. Leaf artichokes, celery, mushrooms, courgettes, fennel, small onions, leeks can all be served in this manner. Recipes are on pages 138 and 139.

To slice cucumber really thinly you need the instrument called a mandoline (see page 64). In France the cucumber is nearly always peeled (use a potato parer) and is best prepared a little time ahead. Slice it almost paper thin on the mandoline, sprinkle it with salt, put in a colander with a plate pressed down over it and leave to drain. After a minimum of half an hour press it dry and dress with oil, a few drops of vinegar, a pinch of sugar. Sprinkle with chopped chives, chervil or parsley.

The gherkin cucumbers, short and fat, which are used for pickling and which come into the shops in August, can be treated in the same fashion, and it is essential to peel them as their skins are apt to be bitter; then cut them in half lengthways and discard the coarse seeds before slicing them, and be rather more generous with the sugar in the dressing.

As the season advances, ordinary cucumbers become full of seed and watery, and they too should have the seeds removed in the same way as the
cornichon
cucumbers.

It is far from easy to make a good potato salad without the right variety of potatoes, and it is a curious fact that in England, where the potato is considered such an essential daily food, it is next to impossible to find those long kidney-shaped waxy potatoes which are grown on the Continent and which are the only ones which do not collapse in the cooking. When asked if they could not put these potatoes on the market the growers give the usual stonewalling reply, ‘there would be no market for them.’ How do they know there would be no market for them until they try? Was there, one cannot help wondering, a ‘market’ for avocado pears, passion fruit, Chinese gooseberries, mangoes, for leaf artichokes at five shillings apiece, for aubergines, sweet peppers and suchlike until someone thought of creating that market? As a matter of fact, from time to time some enterprising grower produces potatoes of the Kipfler or other kidney varieties, and because they are such rarities the luxury shops are able to sell them for something like three shillings and sixpence a pound—which makes a potato salad a rather costly dish.

Anyhow, to make a good potato salad, at least choose new potatoes or one of the firm-fleshed varieties such as Majestic or King Edward. Scrub them, and boil them in their skins, keeping a watchful eye upon them to see that they do not overcook. Drain them, and peel them as soon as they can be handled. Slice them, and season them while they are still warm (this is essential) with salt, pepper, plenty of good olive oil and a little tarragon or wine or cider vinegar. Add a generous sprinkling of finely chopped parsley or chives.

An alternative dressing is a home-made mayonnaise, thinned to the consistency of cream with a little warm water. A hot potato salad is the frequent accompaniment of a hot poached country sausage, and a very delicious combination it is. The recipe is on page 228.

Sweet red or green peppers can be served in two ways for an hors-d’œuvre. First raw, in which case you cut off the stalk end, extract the core and the seeds, rinse the pepper under the cold tap to make sure no seeds remain, then slice it in the thinnest possible rounds. Dress with oil and salt and add a few black olives.

The second method is to skin the peppers by impaling them on a long fork or skewer and holding them over the gas flame, turning them round and round, until all the skin is charred quite black. It will then rub off quite easily, with the aid of a little running cold water. Every scrap of burnt skin must be removed, likewise the seeds and cores. Cut the peppers into lengthwise strips, season with salt, olive oil, a little chopped garlic if you like, and parsley.

For the method of cooking chick peas see the
soupe aux pois chiches
(page 164). While the peas are still warm they can be very easily slipped out of their skins, although this is a tedious business and not strictly necessary. Season the peas well with salt if they need it, pepper and olive oil, and if you like a little finely sliced onion.

Put the peeled and washed artichokes in cold salted water, simmer rather than boil them, and keep a wary eye on them after the first 10 minutes, testing them with a skewer and extracting each from the pan as soon as it is ready. For salad they should remain a little resistant. While still warm, slice them as you would potatoes, season with salt, pepper, plenty of olive oil and a little wine vinegar, or lemon juice. For 2 lb. of artichokes mix in a heart of raw celery cut in thin strips, parsley, garlic if you like. Cover the bowl until the salad is to be served. A layer of chopped ham on top of the salad makes a nice addition.

Wash 1 lb. of courgettes, or small marrows, and pare off any damaged part of the skin; otherwise do not peel them. Remove the two ends, slice them into inch-long pieces, put them in a colander, sprinkle them with salt and leave them to drain for an hour or so.

Prepare the following mixture: a coffee-cupful (after-dinner size) of olive oil, the juice of a lemon,
pint of water, a bayleaf, a sprig of thyme, a few crushed peppercorns and coriander seeds and a little salt. Bring this to the boil; put in 3 skinned and chopped tomatoes and the courgettes. Cook fairly fast for 20 to 25 minutes. Serve cold. The coriander seeds and tomatoes are optional, and garlic can be added by those who like it.