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Veal, Breast of, Rolled and Braised
Bone a breast of veal, spread forcemeat upon it, and roll it as in the last recipe. Bind securely with tape, and lay slices of fat bacon all round it. Lay it in a stewpan just large enough to contain it, and add a carrot, an onion stuck with cloves, a few peppercorns, half a blade of mace, and a bunch of sweet herbs. Pour over it from half to three-quarters of a pint of stock, cover the saucepan closely, and let its contents simmer very gently over a slow fire for three hours. Baste frequently with its liquor. Take up the veal, lay it on a dish, and put it in the oven. Strain the liquor, and boil quickly till it begins to thicken. Brush the veal over with it two or three times, then place it on a dish, garnish with forcemeat balls, rashers of bacon, or dressed vegetables, and send it to table with any of the following sauces. White sauce, Italian sauce, melted butter, parsley sauce, mushroom sauce, etc. Time to simmer the veal, three hours. Probable cost of the veal, 10d. per pound.
A boned, stuffed and braised breast of veal, finished with its own reduced cooking liquor as a glaze. Nothing here is difficult, but the cut and a few of the terms have drifted out of everyday use.
- The cutBreast of veal is the belly section, streaked with fat and cartilage, and it is one of the veal cuts that rewards long moist cooking. Ask the butcher to bone it and leave it in one flat sheet; a boned breast of 3-4 lb will roll to a manageable size. Rose veal or older milk-fed veal both work, rose veal generally being the stronger in flavour.
- Forcemeat"The last recipe" is the preceding entry, which supplies the rolling method. The stuffing would be a veal forcemeat of the usual period type: breadcrumbs, chopped suet or bacon fat, lemon zest, parsley, sweet herbs, seasoning and egg to bind. Any firm bread-and-herb stuffing serves. Spread it no more than half an inch thick or the roll will not close.
- TapeCooks' tape was a flat cotton binding sold for trussing. Butcher's twine at one-inch intervals does the same job and is easier to cut away at the table.
- Liquid measureHalf to three-quarters of an Imperial pint is 10 to 15 fl oz, roughly 1¼ to 2 US cups. That is deliberately shallow: this is a braise, not a boil, and the meat should sit in liquid rather than under it.
- Blade of maceMace is the lacy outer covering of the nutmeg seed, sold whole in "blades". Half a blade amounts to only a pinch of ground mace, perhaps an eighth of a teaspoon, and the ground spice is sharper, so err low.
- Slow fireA covered stewpan on a slow fire means a bare simmer with only occasional bubbles. On a modern hob that is the lowest useful setting; a 300F oven holds it more evenly and needs no watching. Three hours is right for the cut, and the meat should be fork-tender rather than merely cooked through.
- The glaze is the pointReducing the strained liquor until it "begins to thicken" is what gives the finished roll its shine and its flavour. Skim the fat first, then boil hard until it coats a spoon; two or three brushings build a proper lacquer. Rushing this step leaves a pale, dull joint.
- Holding ovenPutting the veal in the oven while the sauce reduces means a warm oven only, around 200F, loosely covered. It also lets the roll firm up, which makes it far easier to slice.
- YieldA boned breast of this size, stuffed, serves six to eight in thick slices. Serve one sauce, not several; parsley sauce or a mushroom sauce sits best against the glaze.
Breast of veal was a cheap cut in Victorian and Edwardian kitchens, and the tenpence a pound quoted here places it well below the fillet and cushion cuts a middle-class household would buy for a roast. Boning, stuffing and rolling was the standard economy of the period: forcemeat stretched a modest piece of meat, the bacon supplied the fat that lean veal lacks, and the long braise made the cartilage and connective tissue turn to gelatine rather than gristle. The technique is essentially French, and the choice of sauces, Italian sauce among them, points straight at the classical repertoire that English cooks were, by this period, increasingly drawing on, while the tape, the onion stuck with cloves and the bunch of sweet herbs are the ordinary furniture of an English stewpan. Cassell's New Dictionary of Cookery, compiled at the end of the nineteenth century, seems to have been pitched at modest households, and recipes like this one, built around a hard-working cheap cut and a sauce made from what was already in the pan, are the book at its most characteristic.