Kettner's Book of the Table

Every food on the Victorian table gets its history, its etymology and a strong opinion — the wittiest cookery book of 1877, written in secret by a Times leader-writer and named for London's most fashionable restaurant.

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Brandade

The first receipt for a brandade which appeared in print was written by Grimod de la Reynière, and is as follows:-"Among the provincial ragouts in most distinguished favour in Paris are the brandades of salt fish. A restaurateur of the Palais Royal is well known to have made his fortune by his method of preparing them. We give the receipt as it was communicated to us in a village of Languedoc which enjoys a reputation for this very article at once brilliant and merited. The singular name of brandade, though not found in any dictionary, is derived doubtless from the old French verb brandir, which means to shake ; and this action, almost continual, is in fact indispensable to render the ragout what it ought to be. Soak for twenty-four hours a fine piece of salt fish. Put it on the fire in sufficient water, carefully taking it off when it begins to boil. Put butter, oil, parsley and garlic into a stewpan upon a gentle fire. In the meantime skin the fish and divide it into small bits. Put the pieces into the stewpan, and add from time to time more oil, butter or milk, as the whole is perceived to thicken. Shake the stewpan for a long time over the fire, so as to reduce the salt fish to a kind of cream. The receipt is very simple, but we do not cease to repeat that the success of the brandade depends on shaking the stewpan for a very long time. This alone can effect the extreme division or disunion of all the parts of the naturally tough fish and metamorphose it into a sort of cream." It may be a dreadful heresy, but it is difficult not to add Braze that there is an effective instrument called a spoon which is not once mentioned in the foregoing sentences, and which if properly stirred would save a good deal of shaking. Let it be furthermore added, that though Grimod dwells in his usual emphatic way on the creamy nature of a brandade, it is by no means to be classed with spoon meat-it is a very thick cream to be heaped on the dish with fried crusts round it.

For the Modern Kitchen

Grimod's method is sound but assumes salt cod, an unhurried fire, and a cook willing to work the pan for half an hour. A few points bring it into a modern kitchen.

A Little History

Grimod de la Reyni" des Gourmands (published 1803-1812), and Kettner is quoting him more or less straight, including the derivation from brandir, to shake or brandish -- a folk etymology that is still the usual explanation, and probably by way of Proven"al brandar. The dish belongs to Languedoc and Provence, and specifically to N"mes, which continues to claim it; the salt cod itself came inland from the Atlantic trade, and by the eighteenth century dried cod was the cheap Lenten protein of a whole Mediterranean region that had never seen a live cod. Kettner's Book of the Table (1877) was written for a London readership by E. S. Dallas under the Kettner name, and its habit is exactly this: quote the French authority in full, then puncture him. The remark about the spoon is the whole tone of the book in one sentence.

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