The Unofficial Royal Family Pages
The Unofficial Royal Family Pages
Tuesday 19 October 2004 Food Fit for a King (Literally!)Have you ever come across a book so stunning that
you held your breath as you turned the glossy pages, silent in awe at what you beheld and
reverentially stroking its beautiful, shiny pages? I have. The most recent occasion was
just a few weeks ago in fact. That was when I came across an almost pristine copy of an
old French coffee table book of my mother’s on the great master chefs of Its lengthy title was almost as great as its
incredible weight. (And when something makes a 16-pound cat feel light in comparison, you know
you’ve entered into a whole new literary dimension!) My discovery was entitled “LesGrands
Ma�tres de la Cuisine Fran�aise: Du Moyen Age � Alexandre Dumas, Les Meilleures
Recettes de Cinq Si�cles de Tradition Gastromique” or, “The
Great Masters of French Cooking: From the Middle Ages to Alexandre Dumas, The Best Recipes from Five Centuries of
Gastronomic Tradition.” (Eds. C�line Vence & Robert
J.Courtine, Bordas 1972)(henceforth referred to as “Les Grands Ma�tres.”) I’d come across this book many years ago,
when I was a child and had dreamt of becoming a world-renowned chef. When other children
were playing with Barbies or their action figures, I was in the kitchen inventing recipes,
grading restaurants under my own Zagat-like system, and desperately trying to figure out
what Louisa May Alcott meant in “Little Women” when she referred to blancmange.
Les Grands Ma�tres didn’t explain blancmange to me but it did
introduce me to a world of culinary legends, almost all of who had been royal chefs. The
greatest of these was “the God,” Car�me, a man whom I meet again in the magical
world of Regency England, as portrayed by Georgette Heyer and, I’m embarrassed to
admit, Barbara Cartland. Coming across Les Grands Ma�tres after all
these years was like meeting an old friend. It made me forget all about my plans to write
about the scandalous new Dutch princess, Mabel, who had gone from being “a
mobster’s moll” to the Queen’s daughter-in-law. It took me back in time, to
the world of Regency England, the Sun King’s incredible As I read the elaborate recipes for dishes once
enjoyed by emperors, kings and princes, I realized that few people knew the close
connection between royalty and cooking. Even fewer understand that cooking, as we know it
today, would not exist if it hadn’t been for royalty. The simple fact is that the founding fathers of
gastronomy were all employed, at one time or another, by a royal prince, king or tsar. The
reason boils down to money. Until the advent of the Industrial Revolution in the 19th
century, only royals were wealthy enough to afford gastronomical excess, culinary
inventions and lavish dinners. For those who hate cooking, let me say now that
the history of the master chefs is not an explanation of how to make an omelet. It’s
a glimpse into the golden age of kings, a lost world of luxury, political scheming,
extravagance and hedonism. Take, for example, Marie-Antoine (“Antonin”) Car�me,
a chef whose life was a strange mixture of Oliver Twist and Harold Robbins. Car�me was 10
years old when he was abandoned on the brutal streets of However, Car�me was not the first important royal
chef; several other prominent cooks led the way for him. As a result, I thought I’d
write a little about the history of cooking as it relates to royalty, with special
emphasis upon my beloved Car�me. If the discussion leaves you hungry, I’ve provided
numerous recipes at the end for you to try out, ranging from a simple autumn soup by
Car�me, to Napoleon’s lucky chicken fricassee, to the vegetarian eggplant dish
favoured by the late Diana, Princess of Wales. The recipes may not be the most fanciful
and the dishes may not be a chef’s most famous ones but, hopefully, they should be
relatively simple. More importantly, they will be feasible for the average cook in this
day and age. Space limitations prevent me from elaborating on the endless, fascinating and funky bits of royal culinary trivia I’ve discovered, and it certainly limits me from getting into the tastes and preferences of such modern royals as the Queen, Prince Philip and Diana. However, if any of you would be interested in hearing more about the subject, please don’t hesitate to write to me and let me know. Now, onto the history of cooking and royal chefs… The PioneersTaillevent In all fairness to Taillevent, the purpose of
cooking in those days was to compensate for a lack of refrigeration, a problem that
frequently led to rotting food. The King
rewarded Taillevent’s efforts with both an estate and a title. Ironically, Charles V
died as a result of eating some deadly mushrooms. Hopefully, it wasn’t
Taillevent’s fault. Notwithstanding this unfortunate incident, Taillevent is
considered by many to be a pioneer in the history of cooking. Today, the restaurant which
bears his name is considered one of the best in the world, as evidenced by decades of the
famous Michelin four-star rating. La Varenne In 1651, he published a book of his own: Le
Cuisiner Francois or The French Cook. The book is regarded as a turning point
in culinary history and is so influential that it was recently republished in 2001. The
book is significant because La Varenne, unlike Taillevent, emphasized flavour over methods
of preparation. His recipes were simple, concise and designed to bring out the natural
flavour of the ingredients, not mask it under the sweet stench of sugary spices. In fact,
thanks to La Varenne’s influence, pepper became the dominant seasoning, followed by
fresh herbs. More significantly, he is probably the man who
first invented the famous b�chamel or white sauce. Until that time, sauces
followed the Roman method adopted by Taillevent: where thick pieces of stale bread were
soaked in liquid and then strained through cloth. The result was a lumpy paste that was
combined with heavy amounts of cinnamon, mace, cardamom, cloves, vinegar (or lime juice),
wine and some water, and poured over roasted meats or boiled lamprey eels. Positively
repulsive! La Varenne must have thought so too because his
recipe completely different. He used simple flour, slowly blended with boiled milk and
butter to create a smooth, creamy white sauce; he seasoned it only with pepper; and he
completely ignored Taillevent’s beloved mix of potent spices. He named his sauce
“B�chamel” after the 17th century nobleman who was Louis XIV’s
Chief Steward. The sauce was not only a huge hit at B�chamel was not La Varenne’s only
invention. His appreciation for herbs led him to come up with the ingenious idea of a bouquet
garni: a small posy of fragrant herbs tied up in a porous fabric for slow seasoning in
stews and soups. La Varenne was also the first to introduce the use of fresh vegetables,
such as mushrooms, for flavouring meats. In
fact, he’s said to be the person behind the decadent pairing of foie gras and
truffles. http://tinyurl.com/4hfpl La Varenne also tried to make changes outside the
kitchen as well. He wanted to limit the scope of royal dinners, mostly in order to control
his employer’s gargantuan appetite and protect his health. Consider the account,
furnished by Louis XIV's
sister in law, the Duchess of Orleans, of one of the King's meals:
Unfortunately, La Varenne was not successful in his attempts. It wasn’t just the King’s gluttony that was at fault. Another reason was the political significance of enormous banquets. The endless one-upmanship in dishes and preparations, the huge cost of the dinners, and gluttonous extravagances of the royal court were all seen as a reflection of the political pyramid, with the king placed firmly at the top. (See, “The Dominance of the French Grande Cuisine,” in The Cambridge World History of Food, Vol. II (Cambridge University Press 2000) at pp. 1210-1216.) In other words, lavish theatrical feasts became a means of glorifying the monarch and making a political point. http://www.diplomatie.gouv.fr/label_france/ENGLISH/DOSSIER/GASTRO/terre.html Vatel Brillat-Savarin Brillat-Savarin
was born in 1775. He became a lawyer and then, eventually, the mayor of his town.
Political problems following the French Revolution forced him to flee Published in
English as The Physiology of Taste (1825), it was the first work to treat dining as
a form of art, and gastronomy as "the intelligent knowledge of whatever concerns
man's nourishment." (See, Le Physiologie, as
translated by Fayette Robinson, at http://etext.library.adelaide.edu.au/b/brillat/savarin/b85p/)
Brillat-Savarin’s “physiology” or philosophy focused on the pleasures of
dining -- as opposed to mere cooking -- as well as style and proper dining etiquette. But
his book goes far beyond such narrow issues. The majority of Le Physiologie is taken up
by witty, often chatty, essays in which Brillat-Savarin describes his theories about
everything connected to society. The wonderful anecdotes which he shares about everyone
from Rossini to the corner baker makes the reader feel as though they’ve stepped foot
into the 1800s or peeking into someone’s personal diary. At other times, one is
amused by the Brillat-Savarin’s theories on such varied and eclectic matters as: the
erotic properties of truffles (they acted as an aphrodisiac upon women); the importance of
food in history (“The destiny of
nations depends on the manner in which they are fed”); the
character of nations (the Swiss were “eminently civilized but fools because they have
no time for pleasure,” while the Americans were “charming barbarians”); and
the importance of chocolate (“chocolate is health!”) as a panacea for everything
from hangovers to lethargy. ( Many of his reflections have become celebrated
adages that remain with us today. For example, “The discovery of a new dish does more
for human happiness than the discovery of a new star;” “Those who eat too much
or get drunk do not know how to eat or drink;” “The most indispensable quality
of a cook is punctuality; it must also be the one of his guests;” and his most famous
proverb, “Tell me what you eat, and I will tell you what you are.” (See, Le
Physiologie, as translated by Fayette Robinson, supra ). At first glance, these sayings may seem foolish and frivolous, but that is because we are looking at them through modern eyes. Back in the 1700s, concepts such as punctuality or moderation in food and drink were truly radical ideas. Sugar-coated in Brillat-Savarin’s witty style, they had an impact. They also helped legitimize efforts by such chefs as Car�me to move away from the culinary habits of the ancien regime towards a new more modern approach that emphasized refined food, table manners, and social interaction. CAR�ME: "THE GOD"As I mentioned earlier, Car�me is my favorite
chef of all time and a man whose life is something out of a Dickensian novel. He was born
in 1784 to an alcoholic, itinerant stonemason who fathered 25 children. (Les Grands
Ma�tres, at 54.)At the age of 10, Car�me was turned out penniless onto the streets
of I’m not exaggerating when I say that Car�me
cooked for every important banquet table in 19th century Car�me began his
meteoric rise to fame as an apprentice to one of the great p�tissieurs
or pastry chefs of the day,
Bailly, who soon recognized the young boy’s talents.
In Car�me’s time, the p�tissieur was as
prestigious as that of the cuisinier himself (head chef). Jean Fran�ois Revel, >Culture
and Cuisine: A Journey through the History of Food (Da Capo 1984). The reason is that pastry cooks were responsible for the great decorative centerpieces (or
“pi�ces mont�es”) that were the crowning glory of grand dinners. Car�me excelled at these artistic flights of
fancy, which is probably why Bailly gave him the freedom to indulge in his quest for
knowledge. After spending grueling hours in the kitchen, Car�me would leave for the great
libraries of Car�me soon caught the eye of the great Talleyrand. In 1804, Talleyrand gave him a
test: to create a menu featuring multiple dishes for each day of the year, but never
repeating a single dish and only using seasonal produce. Car�me passed the test with ease
and Talleyrand hired him on the spot. This was no
small honour. Talleyrand was a wily political chameleon who exercised power, no matter who
was in power, no matter what the decade. Think about the brilliant ruthlessness which
would permit a powerful politician to survive the following political polarities: the ancien
regime (Louis XVI), the Revolution, Napoleon’s Consulate, Napoleon’s Empire,
the Restoration (Louis XVIII), and the July Monarchy (Louis Philippe). And Talleyrand did
not just “survive;” with the exception of a brief period of poverty in Talleyrand was
the perfect patron for Car�me. He was a gourmet who appreciated fine food, he was
politically powerful, he had the financial means to support Car�me’s culinary
imagination, and he introduced Car�me’s dishes to the most powerful men in Equally
important was Talleyrand’s well-known preference for conducting “diplomatic
campaigns on damask dinnercloths.” (Pat Solley, “The
Hardest Soup in the World,” at http://www.soupsong.com/zjul04.html
) In other words, Talleyrand intentionally tried to soften up his opponents, dull their
senses and get an advantage by sating them with an abundance of rich, decadent food. In
the world of the early 1800s, however, royalty and politicians were blas� beyond belief.
Enter Car�me, a man whose extravagant culinary inventions tantalized even the most jaded
appetite. Thus, for every political crisis handled by Talleyrand, there was
some glorious, new recipe by Car�me. For example, the “XYZ Affair” that nearly
brought the Car�me’s brilliance soon led Talleyrand to
promote him to head chef. The honours did not stop there. When Emperor Napoleon had a
second, and religious, marriage to his beloved Jos�phine, Car�me was chosen to make the
cake. He was only 21 years old. In 1814, Car�me reached an even larger audience
for his talents when he accompanied Talleyrand to the Congress of Vienna. The Congress was a six-month long diplomatic affair
that was briefly interrupted by Napoleon’s escape from According to one author, Ian Kelly, one of the
tools at Talleyrand’s disposal was Car�me. Kelly
argues that Talleyrand wielded Car�me’s gastronomy as a political tool to show Nonetheless, I think it’s undisputed that
Car�me dazzled Talleyrand’s guests in a way that could only have benefited the
politician’s reputation. Car�me’s time in Talleyrand’s service enabled him
to know the eating foibles and preferences of a number of important statesmen, diplomats
and royals. For example, the Tsar had stayed with Talleyrand on a prior trip to One thing is certain: Car�me’s name was on
everyone’s lips. Cooking sometimes for days on end, he sometimes served several
thousand guests at a time with elaborate dishes and masterpieces of confection. When the
Congress of Vienna dispersed in 1815, the departing dignitaries went home and spread the
legend of Car�me. The person who was most eager to hear of Prinny was the oldest son of George III and he
came to power via a special parliamentary bill when his father was thought to have gone
“mad.” Today, we know that the King suffered from porphyria, a medical condition
that can lead to episodes of dementia. Prinny
had never gotten along with his staid, Germanic parent who disapproved greatly of his
extravagance and his scandalous hedonism. When the Regency Act was passed, Prinny took
full advantage of the coffers now open to him and set forth to indulge every one of his
gargantuan appetites for wine, women and food. His indulgences soon turned the slim, young
prince into a florid, fat whale who needed to wear tight corsets in order to fit into his
clothes. It was said that one could hear the creaking of Prinny’s corsets across the
stretch of a room, but that didn’t stop the Prince’s mammoth appetite. In fact,
I’d venture to say that Prinny would have put Louis XIV to shame when it came to
gluttony and sheer quantities of food. When he heard of Talleyrand’s brilliant chef
and his unique dishes, he had to have him, no matter what the price. And what Prinny
wanted, Prinny often got. In late 1815, he lured Car�me away from Talleyrand’s
household and got him to make the trip across the Channel. Car�me took up residence at
Prinny’s It was in this context that I first heard of
Car�me and, to this day, his name is forever associated in my mind with the magical,
enchanted world of Regency England: waltzes at Almack’s; Beau Brummell quizzing the
ladies; Lord Byron and the scandalous Caro Lamb; gentlemen’s clubs like Whites (which
still exists today and counts as its members both The Prince of Wales and Prince William);
and Prinny’s Brighton Pavilion. To my youthful mind, Car�me was imbued with all
their magic but, the reality was, it was Car�me who glittered. His genius was much more
than just the figment of my youthful imagination or romantic perceptions. And a menu for Car�me started with four soups, then four fish
dishes, then four main dishes (ham, veal, etc.) and thirty-six side dishes. And this was just the FIRST COURSE!!!! http://tinyurl.com/5h36j The Herculean nature of Car�me’s job becomes even more apparent when
you consider that Prinny preferred an average of ten courses, at the very least, since
anything less was considered shoddy and meager. In fact, I’ve read that some of
Prinny’s banquets featured 100 courses. (Jay Rayner, “A History of…
Haute Cuisine,” at http://tinyurl.com/5twmq.) If every course had an average of 50 elaborate
dishes, that would make Car�me responsible for as many as 5000 dishes for one
night’s entertainment. Car�me’s brilliance didn’t stop there. He
also designed massive, elaborate table decorations, including one of Prinny’s Car�me only lasted two years in Prinny’s
employment before resigning. Contrary to what you might think, Prinny’s elaborate
dinners didn’t exhaust him. It was the weather! (Les Grands Ma�tres, at 54.)
Car�me became deeply depressed by the notorious British climate and by the attitude of
his fellow cooks, who resented the attention paid to the famous chef. Besieged by offers, Car�me decided to work for the
Tsar, in His new employer, Baroness Betty de Rothschild,
was eager to be accepted by Parisian society and gave the fiery chef a complete blank
cheque in the kitchen. The result was some of Car�me’s most elaborate dishes,
including a souffl� recipe that called for suspended particles of real gold within the
liqueur and the famous Lady Morgan soup, sometimes called “the hardest soup in the
world.” (See, Ian Kelly’s
fascinating description of the Rothschild’s glittering extravaganza for Lady Morgan,
excerpted in part at http://tinyurl.com/5oq2p
and his translation of Car�me’s Rothschild souffl� at http://tinyurl.com/54vkm. For the recipe of
“Lady Morgan’s Soup,” see http://www.soupsong.com/zjun04.html .). It was within this timeframe that Car�me probably
invented the extravagant dish, Tournedos � la Rossini, in honour of the famous
composer. The recipe is a feast for the senses, as it calls for the richest of
ingredients, one atop another: filet mignon, topped with exorbitantly expensive black
truffles and huge slabs of foie gras, all on top of buttery croutons in a rich I say “probably” because it’s
unclear who created the recipe. Personally, I believe it was Car�me. Some people believe
it was Rossini who was no stranger to culinary inventions. However, Rossini’s style
of cooking was never this complex or extravagant; Car�me’s was. Other people credit
Escoffier – the famous chef who followed Car�me in the annals of culinary fame --
with the invention. I’m no culinary expert but, again, I think Car�me is a much more
likely candidate. For one thing, the dish is very much in the style of Car�me’s
other rich, decadent and utterly expensive creations. For another, the time frame fits;
Escoffier had just come to Recipes aside, Car�me set out to change the face
of cooking in more permanent, substantive ways. One of his many books was a huge encyclopedia on the history of cooking. L'Art
de la Cuisine Fran�aise au XIXieme Si�cle was a sixteen volume series that
covered everything from his recipes, to the origins of certain dishes, to table settings
and food service.
It immortalized his art, as well as the tradition of cooking
throughout the centuries. It became an instant classic and is still read today by the
master chefs in In his book, Car�me organized recipes into master categories. To be exact, he classified all sauces into five main, or “mother,” sauces from which everything else derived. It sounds trivial but, in Car�me’s opinion, once you knew how to make the sauce, the rest followed from there. The “mother” sauces are:
Car�me
believed that these five sauces were the foundation to almost all European cooking. He was
right. If you’ve ever made a gravy for Thanksgiving or for prime roast, then you’ve
used one of the mother sauces. If you’ve cooked Cajun food, chances are that you’ve used a white roux
or b�chamel sauce; if you’ve made spaghetti sauce, then you might have
used either the tomato sauce (e.g., bolognaise), the b�chamel (Alfredo) or the velout�
(clam sauce). In short, unless you barbeque,
order in or microwave your food, then you’ve probably made one of the “mother”
sauces. Chances are, you’ve also been influenced by
Car�me’s rendition of them. Car�me didn’t just organize sauces
into categories; he also refined sauces from the past. For example, he took the b�chamel
sauce created by our old friend, La Varenne, and perfected it. He did the same with other
historic sauces too. He went back centuries into the past, took the best of the master
chefs’ creations, synthesized it with his modern knowledge, and then refined it.
Thanks to Car�me’s prodigious writing, these recipes are still used today by cooks
all over the world. Car�me
made another huge contribution to the history of food: he changed how it was served. Before Car�me, service was � la fran�aise
or in the French style, something akin to family style today where every dish (after the
soup course) was put out simultaneously on the table.
Although people could pick and choose what they wished to eat, the
disadvantage was that most dishes became cold very quickly, especially as they’d
already made the long journey from the kitchens, through cold drafty corridors, to the
banquet halls. Car�me, ever the perfectionist, couldn’t stand for his dishes to be
ruined, even if the cause was a traditional way of eating. Influenced by his time at the
Tsar’s court, he was a big advocate for service � la russe, where
diners were served individual portions of dishes, one after another, and still relatively
hot. Although old habits die hard, Car�me had some help from another old friend of ours,
Brillat-Savarin. His book had already led to a
shift in attitudes towards dining, and its impact became even more widespread when the
English version came out in 1825. None of that was enough for the perfectionist
genius. In his spare time, Car�me also redesigned certain kitchen utensils, created
cooking molds in new, ornate shapes, and allegedly invented the tall chef’s hat or toque.
(“Tallyrand’s Culinary Fare,” at http://tinyurl.com/4p8nm.) That last claim may
be a slight exaggeration because no one really knows how the hat was invented. One legend
credits King Henry VIII. The way the story goes, one of the royal cooks in King Henry’s
employment started losing his hair. Unfortunately, he seems to have done so while
preparing the King’s dinner; and we all know how much King Henry loved his food. So,
when His Majesty found a hair in his soup, he was so furious that he had the cook
beheaded. He ordered the next Chef to start
wearing a hat and, for obvious reasons, the poor man was more than happy to comply. http://tinyurl.com/3l8nr Whoever invented the toque, one thing was clear: Car�me was burning the candle at both ends, in a way that did not bode well for his health:
By 1829, Car�me was seriously ill. According
Kelly, his biographer, Car�me was slowly being poisoned to death by low-level carbon
monoxide, resulting from a lifetime of cooking over a charcoal in close, unventilated
quarters. Four years later, Car�me was dead. He was just 48 years old. The culinary genius of the 19th century was buried in an unmarked grave and, due to an outbreak of cholera, no one attended his funeral. Yet, his death hardly went unnoticed. When Tsar Alexander I heard of it, he reportedly said mournfully to Talleyrand ‘What we did not know was that he taught us to eat’. (“Tallyrand’s Culinary Fare,” at http://tinyurl.com/4p8nm.) TODAY'S ROYAL CHEFS - FROM THE QUEEN TO DIANACar�me’s death marked the end of master
royal chefs. From this period onwards, master chefs did not work exclusively for royalty.
Yes, they still cooked for princes, kings and emperors, but it was on their own terms,
usually in an individual, independent capacity. Sometimes they cooked as part of a famous
hotel and restaurant, like the renowned Escoffier. Sometimes, they merely catered for a
particularly momentous occasion, like Escoffier’s legendary Three Emperors’
Dinner or the Cherries Jubilee which he made for Queen There are many reasons for the change. The
trickle-down effect of the Industrial Revolution, new financial freedoms, globalization,
the emergence of restaurants and hotels as powerful centers for the culinary arts, the
impact of WWI and the end of many imperial monarchies – all these things and more
ended the reign of the royal master chef. A new, more democratic, culinary world was
emerging, one where nobility and access to the highest social stratosphere was no longer
required to enjoy gastronomic heaven. Escoffier and his famous Ritz-Carlton establishments
played a role in taking gastronomy out of the palaces, but it was undoubtedly WWI, the
Depression and WWII that cemented the fate of the royal cook. By the time Queen Elizabeth II ascended the throne in 1952, things couldn’t have been more different than the extravagant days of Prinny and Car�me. Even Her Majesty’s official website notes the differences:
Car�me was the last of his kind. A genuine
artist, his fiery, passionate nature carried over to his work and transformed it into a
feast for the senses that captured the soul. He turned food into actual art, with huge
tableaus of precise, architectural creations and food made out of gold. Literally! No
other chef has ever come close to the scale, complexity and inventiveness of his
creations. And no other chef so embodies the glittering brilliance of the golden age of
kings as Car�me. To honour his legacy, I’ll leave you with a few recipes for you to try. They are simple dishes, not just by Car�me’s standards but by a normal person’s standards. Lucky for us, Car�me had a particular passion for soup and I
managed to find two simple ones, including one created in honour of Queen
Marie-Antoinette. I’ve also thrown in various other recipes, such as the Stuffed
Eggplant dish that was a favorite of Diana, Princess of Wales, Napoleon’s lucky
chicken fricassee, and two desserts inspired by Brillat-Savarin. Please write to me and let me know if you’d
like to learn more about this subject, whether it’s historical royal trivia, recipes
or the culinary preferences of such modern royals as the Queen, Prince Philip and Diana,
Princess of Wales. I have a ton of royal
recipes and trivia that I’d be happy to share if you’re so interested. Until next week, happy cooking and bon appetit…. - 1- Car�me's "Autumn Soup
2- Marie-Antoinette's Vermicelli Soup (Serves 6)
Garnish: blanched chervil or Italian parsley Cooking directions (according to Pat Solley): (After a military campaign in the Italian province of
Piedmont, Napoleon found himself starved but there was no food in sight because he'd left
his commissary behind. His desperate chef, Dunand, scavenged together a few ingredients: a
scrawny chicken, four tomatoes, three eggs, a few crayfish, and a little garlic. They even
found a frying pan, which was fortunate because Dunand had left his cooking utensils with
the rest of the commissary. "Dunand cut up the chicken with a sabre and fried it in
oil, crushed garlic, and water made more palatable with a little cognac filched from
Napoleon's own canteen; together with some emergency-ration bread supplied by one of the
soldiers, with eggs, fried in the same liquid on the side, and the crayfish, also fried,
on top." Napoleon loved it and ordered that the dish be served after every battle.
"On the next occasion Dunand tried to improve the dish by substituting white wine for
water, adding mushrooms, and leaving out the crayfish. Napoleon noted the disappearance
and demanded that they be restored to the dish, but not for gastronomic reasons, however.
Napoleon was highly superstitious and chicken with crayfish was associated in his mind
with victory." Today, the recipe calls for "chicken cut into pieces, browned in
oil, and then cooked slowly (not as Dunand did it) with peeled tomatoes, crushed garlic,
parsley, white wine and cognac, seasoned with crushed pepper and served with fried eggs on
the side (with or without crayfish, also on the side) and sometimes croutons, doubling as
Dunand's army bread." "Italian Inspiration," at http://www.knet.co.za/marengo/chicken.htm)
Cooking Directions:
Cooking Directions:
5- Emeril Lagasse's simplified version of Tournedos � la Rossini --(It may be extremely simplified, but it's still a very complicated recipe. Not to mention incredibly expensive. Nonetheless, I can't help sharing it with you because it's truly that delicious!) (Serves 6)
Cooking Directions:
Cooking Directions: 7- Orange Rum Savarin:
Cooking Instructions: * * * If you'd enjoy reading more about this subject, or if
you're interested in the culinary preferences of today's royals, write to me and let me
know. I'd also like to hear from anyone adventurous enough to try out some of the recipes
posted above. |
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