Forcemeat
The French name for it is farce, and their use of it tends to farce-a display of the prowess of Jackpudding. They swell out their viands, and surround them with farce, quenelles of whiting, quenelles of chicken, godiveau plain, godiveau with herbs, boudin, gratin, forcemeat shaped into balls, shaped into eggs, shaped into corks, farce inside the meat, farce coating it and masking it, farce swimming around it; so that often the dish professing to be solid meat proves to be mainly farce. When a French cook stuffs a carp, he takes every morsel of the fish except the head and the tail, he pounds it with other ingredients into stuffing, which he moulds into the likeness Forcemeat of the dear departed, putting the head at one end and the tail at the other to look like nature. Certainly the French make excellent farce; but a little of it goes a long way, especially with people who are not dependent upon pap, and who have not yet come to substitute the action of pestle and mortar for that of their own good grinders. We, therefore, who are in good health, and have not lost our powers of mastication, must entreat the cooks to be moderate in their farces, and to spare their stuffing. 1. Quenelle. This is the finest of the French forcemeats, and will be described under its own name, both on account of its pre-eminence, and because it involves a little critical discussion. 2. Godiveau. Take veal and ox-kidney fat in proportions which vary according to taste and the season of the year. The fat is never less than the veal; sometimes it is double the quantity; most commonly it is between the two -namely, half as much again as the veal : let us say, eight ounces of veal to twelve of beef fat. They are both to be picked perfectly free of skin and thready fibres, and to be chopped very small. Season them with pepper, salt, nutmeg; and, still chopping, add two whole eggs-one at a time-until they are well mixed. Then transfer all to a mortar, along with a spoonful or two of very cold water in winter, or an ounce or two of ice in summer; and it is in summer, by the way, that the quantity of fat must be a minimum, for fear of its turning. Keeping all as chilly as possible, pound it briskly until it is mixed into a smooth paste. If there is any sign of melting, use more ice, or take the godiveau out upon a plate and chill it in the icebox. When the godiveau has become soft and smooth, it is to be rolled on a marble slab with flour, and divided into balls or sticks lightly powdered over with flour, which are finally to be poached in water or broth, and used for a garnish of various dishes.
Forcemeat 3. Godiveau with herbs. - When shalots, chives and parsley are chopped and pounded with the above, we have the Godiveau aux fines herbes, useful in various ways, but especially as an addition to pies. 4. Oyster Forcemeat. - Beard a dozen oysters, mince them, and mix them with four ounces of fine breadcrumbs. Add an ounce and a half of butter, the zest of half a lemon, a teaspoonful of parsley, some nutmeg, cayenne and salt; and mix all well with the yolk of an egg and a little of the oyster liquor. Divide it into balls and poach them; or put it whole in the breast of a turkey. It is also excellent as a stuffing for fish, such as John Dory. And it is mightily improved by being pounded to a smooth paste with another half-ounce of butter. 5. Fat Forcemeat, often called Veal Stuffing not because made of veal, but because used for stuffing veal, turkey, and fish, is made of equal quantities of fat and fine breadcrumbs. The fat is generally ox-kidney fat, but the udder of veal is to be preferred, or else butter. Take, however, six ounces of the suet which is most commonly in use, mince it finely, mix it with the breadcrumbs, add to it chopped parsley, thyme and shalot (the two latter sparingly), nutmeg, pepper, and salt. Work all up with two yolks of eggs and a spoonful of milk, and pound it smooth in a mortar. 6. Hare Stuffing is the same as the foregoing, with the addition of the hare's liver parboiled and chopped. 7. Sage and Onion Stuffing for ducks, geese, pork.- Chop (but not together) four large onions and a dozen sageleaves. Scald them for two or three minutes, drain them, put them into a stewpan with breadcrumbs (six ounces), butter (two ounces), pepper and salt, let them simmer very slowly for ten or fifteen minutes, and then the stuffing is ready. With more cooking and with the addition of a Fowl little brown gravy, this stuffing may be used as a sage and onion sauce, served in a boat. 8. Chestnut Forcemeat-chiefly used for stuffing turkeys. -Roast slowly and peel two or three dozen chestnuts, according to the size of the bird. Mix them up whole with fat forcemeat (No. 6), and stuff the turkey.
Eight forcemeats in one entry, held together by a single technique: fat, a binder, and seasoning worked to a paste. The variables that matter are temperature and the ratio of fat to lean.
- Keep the godiveau coldThis is the hinge of the whole entry. Veal and suet pounded warm will break and weep fat when poached; the ice and cold water are not optional. A food processor does the pounding in seconds but generates heat, so chill the bowl, blade, meat and fat first and work in short pulses.
- The godiveau ratioEight ounces veal to twelve of beef kidney suet is roughly 225 g to 340 g — very rich by modern taste. Equal weights give a firmer, more manageable quenelle, and Kettner himself allows the fat to drop to a minimum in warm weather.
- Ox-kidney fat and veal udderOx-kidney fat is beef suet, sold shredded or asked for at a butcher's; buy it in the piece if you can, since the packaged kind is usually mixed with flour. Veal udder is effectively unobtainable in the ordinary trade today, and the recipe already offers butter as the substitute.
- Shalot, zest, beardShalot is shallot. "Zest of half a lemon" means the grated outer peel only. To beard an oyster is to trim off the dark frill of gill tissue around the edge.
- Poaching the ballsSlide the floured balls into water or broth held just below a simmer — a rolling boil tears them apart. Two to four minutes for walnut-sized quenelles, until they float and feel set; longer makes them tight and bready.
- The oyster forcemeatA dozen oysters and four ounces (about 115 g) of dry breadcrumbs makes enough to stuff a single fish or the breast of a small turkey. The oyster liquor should be added a spoonful at a time; the mixture wants to be moist but still hold a shape.
- A misprint to noteNo. 8 tells you to mix chestnuts with "fat forcemeat (No. 6)". Fat forcemeat is No. 5; No. 6 is the hare stuffing with liver. Use No. 5 unless you want liver in your turkey.
- Stuffing inside a birdThese forcemeats go in raw, and stuffing packed into a turkey slows the cooking of the bird around it. Cook the bird to 74C/165F at the thigh and check the centre of the stuffing reaches the same, or bake the forcemeat in a separate dish and serve it alongside.
- Sage and onionA dozen sage leaves to four large onions and six ounces (170 g) of crumbs is enough for one goose or two ducks. The instruction to chop the onion and sage separately is worth following — sage bruised together with wet onion goes muddy and grey.
Kettner's Book of the Table (1877) took its name from Auguste Kettner's Soho restaurant, and its opinions from its anonymous author, generally identified as the journalist E. S. Dallas. The entry is a good specimen of his manner: he explains the French technique thoroughly and mocks it while doing so. The pun is real etymology rather than invention — farce, the stuffing, and farce, the stage comedy, both descend from Latin farcire, to stuff or cram, the theatrical sense arising from comic interludes stuffed into more serious performances. "Jackpudding" was an old English word for a buffoon or clown, so the jibe is that French cooks are performing rather than feeding. Behind the grumbling lies a genuine period divide: the pounded, sieved, mortar-smooth cooking of the French kitchen against an English preference for meat that still looks and chews like meat, a quarrel that ran through Victorian food writing for decades.