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Mutton, Fillet of, Braised
Cut the fillet from a well-hung leg of mutton by taking off a few inches from the loin end, and a good knuckle, which will do for boiling, from the other end. Take out the bone, and fill the hollow with forcemeat, if liked, or put the fillet, well sprinkled with pepper and salt into a braising-pan as it is, but first lay over the bottom slices of bacon, and on these a couple of carrots and two large onions, each stuck with four cloves, a small bunch of parsley and thyme, a few peppercorns, and half a pint of gravy or stock. Put more bacon on the top of the fillet, place the lid on the pan, and braise for three or four hours. Strain the gravy, and flavour it to taste; reduce it by rapid boiling. Have ready some French beans boiled and drained; put the beans into a stewpan with the gravy, and when hot serve them and the meat, which should be glazed, on the same dish. The chump end of a loin may be roasted before the fire, enveloped in well-buttered paper, then glazed, and served with beans in precisely the same way. The meat should be roasted slowly without getting any brown colour. Time, about two hours to roast the chump. Probable cost, 1s. per pound.
A straightforward pot-braise dressed up with period butchery vocabulary. The one thing to get right is the heat: this is a long, low, barely-simmering braise, and the meat should never be allowed to fry in the fat rendering from the bacon.
- What the fillet isThe fillet of a leg is the thick boneless centre cut, left after the knuckle (shank) and the loin end are removed. Ask a butcher for a boned and rolled leg centre; depending on the size of the leg it will serve six or more.
- Mutton and "well-hung"Mutton means sheep over about two years old, and it is rare outside halal and specialist butchers; a leg of hogget or a large lamb leg works, though the flavour is milder and the meat will be done sooner. "Well-hung" means dry-aged, commonly a week or more.
- Half a pint of gravyAn imperial half-pint is 10 fl oz, about 1¼ US cups. That is deliberately shallow — a braise, not a stew — so the pan must have a close-fitting lid and the liquid should be topped up if it threatens to dry out.
- Braising temperatureOn the stovetop keep it at a bare tremble; in the oven, 300 to 325F for the full three to four hours. A large leg fillet is properly tender when a skewer meets no resistance, and it will still slice cleanly rather than falling apart.
- ForcemeatThe optional stuffing for the bone cavity would have been a bound mixture of minced veal or pork with breadcrumbs, suet, herbs and egg. Any modern sausagemeat-and-herb stuffing serves; tie the joint with string once it is filled.
- GlazingGlaze here is the strained braising liquor boiled hard until it is syrupy and coats a spoon, then brushed over the meat. Reserve a few spoonfuls for the glaze before you add the rest to the beans, or you will have nothing left to shine the joint with.
- French beansThese are ordinary green beans. Boil them briefly and refresh in cold water, then reheat only until hot in the reduced gravy — beans left to sit in simmering liquid turn grey and limp.
- The roasting variation"Roasted before the fire" means on a spit at the hearth. In an oven, use 275 to 300F and wrap the chump end in buttered parchment for the two hours, unwrapping only to glaze; the instruction not to let it colour is the point of the paper.
- CostOne shilling per pound is the figure the book gives as a housekeeping guide, and carries no meaning for shopping today.
Braising in the French manner — meat set on a bed of bacon and root vegetables in a lidded pan with a very little stock, cooked long and slow — was one of the techniques English cookery books of the nineteenth century absorbed wholesale. The recipe's real subject is the economical dissection of a leg: the knuckle goes to the boiling pot, the loin end is set aside, and the prime boneless centre is treated as a company joint. Mutton, from mature sheep kept for their wool before slaughter, was the workhorse red meat of British kitchens for centuries; its near-disappearance from butchers' counters in the twentieth century, as fast-grown lamb took over, is why a recipe like this now reads as unfamiliar despite being entirely ordinary in its own day. The alternative of roasting the chump end wrapped in buttered paper before an open fire is a reminder that households reading this book might still cook at a hearth rather than in an enclosed oven.