Italian Cheese
1 pound of veal. I 1/2 pounds of calf's liver 1/2 pound of ham I small onion 1/2 teaspoonful of powdered sage 2 tablespoonfuls of chopped parsley 14 box of gelatine I heaping teaspoonful of salt 1/4 teaspoonful of black pepper A dash of cayenne Wash the liver, then cover with boiling water, let it stand five minutes, then take it from the water and dry on a towel. Chop the liver, the veal and the ham (all uncooked) very fine; then add the sage, parsley, salt, black pepper, cayenne and the onion, grated. Mix well. Grease a plain mould well with butter; press the meat tightly into the mould, cover, and boil or steam three hours. When you remove the lid, you will find the meat has shrunk, leaving a half inch of space partly filled with liquid. Carefully drain this liquid off, put it in a saucepan over the fire, add to it the gelatine (which should have been covered with cold water and soaked a half hour) and sufficient water to fill the space and cover the cheese. Stir until the gelatine is dissolved; add salt and pepper to taste, pour back into the mould around the cheese and stand away in a cold place. When cold, turn out of the mould; garnish with slices of lemon and parsley, and it is ready to serve. If properly made, the meat should be incased in a jelly.
A steamed liver terrine set in its own jelly — essentially a cold pâté under aspic, meant to be sliced. The ingredient list as printed is incomplete, so read the method first.
- The missing vealThe method calls for chopping "the liver, the veal and the ham," but no veal appears in the list. A quantity in the region of 1/2 pound of veal shoulder or leg is a reasonable reading, but it is a reconstruction, not something the text gives. Say so as an assumption, not a certainty.
- A quarter box of gelatineBox sizes varied; a box of granulated gelatine of this era was commonly in the region of an ounce, though larger boxes were sold too. A quarter box is therefore roughly 1/4 ounce (about 7 g), close to one modern envelope, which will set something like a pint of liquid to a sliceable jelly. Treat the figure as approximate and judge by result.
- The blanching of the liverBoiling water poured over the liver for five minutes firms the surface and draws out some blood, which keeps the finished loaf from tasting metallic. Do not skip it, and dry the liver thoroughly or the mixture will be slack.
- Chopping"Very fine" by hand with a chopping knife was the original method. A food processor does it in seconds, but pulse rather than run it — a smooth purée gives a pasty texture where you want a close, sliceable grain.
- The mould and the water bath"Boil or steam" means the covered mould sits in or over water, not that the meat boils. A 1-quart pudding basin or small loaf tin, buttered and covered tightly with foil, set in a roasting pan of simmering water, does the same job.
- Three hours, and the temperature that mattersThree hours of gentle steaming is more than enough for a loaf this size; check at about 90 minutes and cook until the centre reaches 160F. Pork and veal in a raw-mixed loaf want that number, and overcooking only squeezes out more of the liquid the jelly depends on.
- Setting the aspic"A cold place" means the refrigerator. Chill the loaf in its mould until the jelly is firm, at least four hours and preferably overnight, then dip the mould briefly in warm water to turn it out.
- Yield and servingSomething under the raw weight of the meat, since the recipe notes the loaf shrinks as it cooks; enough for eight to ten slices as a cold main course. Serve cold with mustard, pickles or a sharp salad, and keep it refrigerated.
"Cheese" here has nothing to do with dairy — it is the older English sense of a food pressed into a mould and turned out firm, the same usage that gives us head cheese. Liver-and-ham loaves of this kind seem to have been familiar cold-larder work in nineteenth-century kitchens, close cousins to the French terrine and to Italian liver sausages; why the dish came to be called "Italian cheese" is undocumented, and it appears in English and American cookbooks through the 1800s. Its place in a book of hot weather dishes is the whole point: before mechanical refrigeration, a summer table leaned on food cooked once, set in jelly, and eaten cold over several days, and aspic was as much a seal against the air as a garnish. The commercial granulated gelatine called for in a box is itself a marker of date — earlier versions of the same dish would have relied on a calf's foot boiled down for the same effect.