Oysters
More than two hundred years ago Thomas Oysters Fuller said that the best in England were the fat, salt, green-finned sort bred near Colchester. Since then, although the green-finned oysters are prized above all others on the Continent, they have come to be slighted in England through a fear that the greenness may be the effect of copper. Mr. Frank Buckland, however, has recently written: "I am glad to inform the public that the green-bearded oysters native to the river Roach (not far from Southend, Essex) are about to be introduced into the London market. For over a hundred years this kind of British oyster has been shipped via Ostend to the Paris and Continental markets, where, under the name of 'Les huitres verts d'Ostende,' they have been and are considered a great delicacy. The reason why oyster-eaters in England have not hitherto availed themselves of these home-bred oysters is that their beards (i.e., breathing gills) are in the winter months more or less tinged with a green pigment. This peculiar green is imparted to them by the sporules of the seaweed called crow-silk, which grows abundantly in the Roach river. Dr. Letheby's analysis has pronounced this pigment to be purely vegetable, without the slightest trace of copper or other mineral. I consider that this vegetable pigment imparts a peculiar taste and agreeable flavour to the meat of these plump little oysters. For many years I have been trying to persuade the Messrs. J. and F. Wiseman, oyster merchants, of Paglesham, Rochford, Essex, to send their natives to the home markets. The present scarcity of oysters has now induced them to supply the English rather than the French markets. The shells are thin and porcelain-like, and the proportion of meat to shell in my catalogue of oysters is one-fifth." The English are not only peculiar in their recent dislike to the green-finned oyster; they are so likewise in their manner of opening all oysters. In Scotland and in France oysters are always opened and left in the hollow half of the shell which retains the brine: in England the oyster is Oysters left on the flat shell from which the liquor drains off. If, however, one could sometimes see the dirty liquor in which oysters lie ready for opening, and in which they are opened behind the oyster bar of some fish shops, perhaps there would be no desire to taste the oyster at all, and certainly none to see it in the hollow shell bathed in discoloured brine.
Oyster Sauce. Boil two dozen oysters very gently in their own liquor for five minutes, always remembering that quick boiling will harden them; then drain them and beard them. Go through the first step of making English sauce, using the liquor of the oysters (strained, of course) instead of water, and adding an equal quantity of milk. Put in the oysters, heat up the sauce, and lastly melt into it-but no more than melt-an ounce of butter. For a broiled beefsteak it is preferable to use good brown gravy instead of the milk.
Oyster Soup. Take twenty-four oysters: remove the fins or beards and tendons, and put all together-oysters, fins and tendons to simmer for ten minutes in their own liquor, along with a small sole. The sole, the fins and the tendons are then to be pounded in a mortar and passed into a stewpan, with the liquor of the oysters, a quart of water, or still better fish-stock, a faggot of sweet-herbs, and a few peppercorns. Let it boil for fifteen or twenty minutes, and then work into it an ounce of butter kneaded into an ounce of flour till the flour be thoroughly cooked. The soup can then be strained into a tureen; thickened with a leason composed of one yolk of egg and two tablespoonfuls of cream; seasoned with cayenne and salt; and finally populated with the oysters.
Oyster Forcemeat. - See Forcemeat No. 4.
Scalloped Oysters (Huîtres en Coquille). These are oysters done either in scallop shells or in metal dishes made to Oysters imitate them. Blanch and beard the oysters-some dozens. Then put them into a stewpan with their own liquor, a little butter, some chopped parsley, some pepper, and a glass of Chablis. Take out the oysters and put them into the shells; at the same time reducing the sauce and adding to it a leason of two yolks and some lemon-juice. Pour the sauce over the oysters intermingled with fine breadcrumbs, heap breadcrumbs over all, bedew them with melted butter, and brown them before the fire in a Dutch oven, or in baking tins in an ordinary oven.
OYSTERS-called in France les-sots-y-les-laissent-fools' leavings. Two peculiarly succulent morsels found on the backs of fowls. There is a story of Brillat-Savarin told by Talleyrand and reported by Hayward. He was on his way to Lyons, and proposed to dine at Sens. On his arrival he sent for the cook and asked what there was for dinner. The cook had very little to offer, and M. Savarin determined to go to the kitchen to see for himself. In the kitchen he found four turkeys roasting. "What is this?" he said. "You told me you had nothing in the house.
Let me have one of these turkeys." "Impossible," was the reply; "they are all bespoken for a gentleman upstairs." "He must have a large party to need four turkeys." "No," said the cook; "he dines by himself." "How I should like to see the man who orders four turkeys for his own eating!" Brillat-Savarin went to pay his respects to the stranger, and found his own son. "What, you rogue, four turkeys all to yourself!" "Yes, sir," said the son: "you know that whenever I dine with you, you eat up all the oysters; I was resolved to enjoy myself once in a way-and here I am."
Pancakes
The entry runs three workable recipes together — a sauce, a soup and a scallop — inside a digression on green-finned oysters. The one thing that governs all three is heat: Kettner's own warning that quick boiling hardens oysters does not go far enough for modern taste.
- Cook the oysters barely at allFive minutes' gentle boiling for the sauce, and ten minutes' simmering for the soup, will give you rubber. Oysters need to go just to the point where the edges ruffle — a minute or two in their own liquor, off a bare simmer. Poach them, lift them out, and return them to the finished sauce or soup only to warm through.
- Bearding and blanchingThe beard is the frilled gill; the tendon is the muscle that held the shell shut. Both are edible but tough, and in the soup they are used deliberately for flavour before being pounded and strained out. "Blanch" here means the brief poach in liquor, not a plunge into boiling water.
- LeasonAn old spelling of liaison: yolks beaten with cream, stirred into the hot liquid off the heat to thicken it. It must not boil after the yolks go in or it will curdle. Two dozen oysters is roughly a pint of shucked meat with liquor — enough sauce for four, or soup for four as a first course.
- English sauceKettner's cross-reference is to his own entry for English sauce, a butter-and-flour base with the liquid worked in. Here the liquid is strained oyster liquor plus an equal quantity of milk. Strain the liquor through muslin; grit from the shell is a common fault in oyster sauce.
- A faggot of sweet-herbsA bouquet garni: parsley stalks, thyme and bay tied with string. Remove before straining.
- A glass of ChablisA Victorian wineglassful is usually reckoned at about 2 fl oz, though larger measures are sometimes quoted. Any dry, unoaked white will do the same work; the point is acidity, not the appellation.
- The sole in the soupA whole small sole, poached with the trimmings and then pounded in a mortar, enriches the soup and gives it body, alongside the water or fish stock and the butter-and-flour thickening the recipe also calls for. A food processor and a fine sieve replace the mortar; a good fish stock plus a little of the pounded flesh gets you close with less labour.
- Browning before the fire in a Dutch ovenA Dutch oven in this book is the open-fronted reflector set on the hearth, not a lidded pot. Use the grill or the top of a hot oven, 425F, only long enough to colour the crumbs — the oysters underneath are already cooked.
- The second entry is not a recipeThe paragraph on les sots-y-laissent — "oysters" of the fowl, the two nuggets of meat in the hollows of the back — is a glossary note under the same headword, with the Brillat-Savarin anecdote attached. Nothing in it needs cooking.
Kettner's Book of the Table (1877), generally attributed to the journalist E. S. Dallas rather than to the restaurateur whose name it carries, is a dictionary as much as a cookbook, which is why an oyster sauce sits next to a quotation from Thomas Fuller's Worthies of England and a joke about turkeys. The long quotation is from Frank Buckland, the naturalist and Inspector of Salmon Fisheries, who spent much of the 1870s publicising underused British seafood — and the timing matters, because those years were the beginning of the collapse of the English native oyster beds, which had until then supplied a food so cheap it was thought fit for the poor. The green-fin argument was real: continental buyers paid a premium for the greened oysters of Ostend and Marennes, while English eaters suspected copper poisoning, and Dr Henry Letheby, the City of London's analyst, was called on to certify the pigment as vegetable. Modern science credits the colour to a diatom taken up by the oyster's gills rather than to Buckland's "crow-silk", but he had the essential point right — the green is something the oyster ate, and it tastes of the water it came from.