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Garnish, Parsley Fried For
Parsley may be best fried in the small wire baskets which are sold for the purpose. Wash, and dry it thoroughly. Put some lard, dripping, or butter into an iron stewpan, and when it is just about to boil, hold the basket in it for a second or two, then take the parsley out, and dry it before the fire. If a wire basket is not at hand, put the parsley into the fat, and as soon as it is crisp take it up with an egg-slicer, and dry it before the fire. Fried and crisped parsley (see CRISPED PARSLEY) are the most usual, and the cheapest of garnishings, but they require care in preparation. Everything fried and savoury is served with fried parsley. Probable cost, 1d. per bunch.
A garnish that takes seconds and is ruined by inattention. The whole technique hangs on getting the parsley bone-dry before it meets the fat.
- Dry the parsley properlyWater and hot fat spit violently, and damp parsley will steam rather than crisp. Wash it well ahead, spin or shake it out, then leave it spread on a towel for an hour or more until there is no visible moisture on the leaves.
- "Just about to boil"In kitchen terms fat does not boil; the phrase means the point where it shimmers and a leaf dropped in fizzes at once. The book gives no temperature; modern practice for frying parsley is somewhere around 350F. Much hotter and the parsley browns and turns bitter before it crisps.
- Seconds, not minutesThe book says a second or two in the basket; the parsley is done as soon as the frantic bubbling subsides and the leaves stiffen. It should stay bright green; brown parsley is burnt parsley and tastes of it.
- Egg-slicerHere this means a perforated slice or skimmer, not the wire-strung gadget for slicing hard-boiled eggs. A spider strainer or wire skimmer is the modern equivalent, and a small frying basket works exactly as described.
- "Dry before the fire"Drain on paper towel in a warm spot rather than in front of an open flame. The point is to shed surface fat while the leaves are still hot, so they stay brittle.
- Curly beats flatCurly parsley -- The ruffled leaf traps air and shatters when fried. The book does not specify a variety; flat-leaf fries too but gives a flatter, darker result.
- Fat and panLard or dripping give the flavour intended, but any neutral oil with a high smoke point does the job. Use a deep, heavy pan and no more than a couple of inches of fat, as parsley causes a sudden surge of bubbles.
- QuantityA large bunch fries down to very little, so allow a generous handful of sprigs for four servings and fry in two or three small batches to keep the fat hot.
Fried parsley was the workhorse garnish of the Victorian kitchen: cheap, quick, and green against the brown of anything that had been through the frying pan, which is why Cassell's says flatly that everything fried and savoury is served with it. The costing of a penny a bunch is characteristic of the book, which prices nearly every entry so a cook or mistress could reckon the expense of a dish in advance. Parsley itself had been grown in English gardens for centuries and was cheap enough to be treated as decoration rather than seasoning; the specialist wire frying baskets mentioned here belong to the broader repertoire of single-purpose kitchen ironmongery. Something like the technique persists in fried whitebait and mixed fry service, where a nest of crisp parsley is still often the finish.