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Watercress Sandwich
Dip fresh leaves of watercress in mayonnaise dressing. Place between thin slices of white bread lightly buttered.
Barely a recipe at all, but the two instructions it does give are the ones that matter: the leaves go into the dressing, and the bread is buttered before anything wet touches it.
- Butter first, and to the edgesButter first -- The thin butter layer works as a moisture barrier as much as a flavour note; spreading it well out towards the crust helps keep the mayonnaise from soaking into the bread.
- Dip means coat, not drenchToss the leaves in a bowl with a spoonful of mayonnaise until each one is filmed, then shake off the excess. A puddle of dressing in the middle is what makes these sandwiches collapse.
- Preparing the cressUse only the tender leaves and the top inch of stem; the lower stems are stringy and fibrous. Wash in a bowl of cold water, lift out rather than drain, and dry thoroughly in a towel or spinner, since water dilutes the dressing.
- Bread"Thin slices of white bread" points to a close-grained sandwich loaf, cut as thin as it will hold together. Sturdy bread with an open crumb fights the filling.
- Seasoning the original assumesPeriod mayonnaise may well have been sharper and saltier than the modern jarred kind. A pinch of salt and a grind of pepper on the leaves, or a squeeze of lemon, brings it back into balance.
- Yield and holdingA generous bunch of watercress and about 1/3 cup mayonnaise fills roughly eight thin sandwiches. Trim the crusts, cut into fingers or triangles, and cover with a damp cloth; serve within an hour or two, as cress wilts fast once dressed.
Watercress sandwiches belong to the tea table rather than the lunch pail, and books like this one placed them among the delicate fillings meant to be cut small, crusts off, and passed on a plate. Watercress was cheap and widely available in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries -- grown commercially in spring-fed beds and, in London especially, sold in bunches by street sellers -- which is part of why it turns up so often in genteel recipes that call for almost no other ingredient. Cress was also valued as a spring tonic, a reputation usually linked in tradition to its sharp, mustard-family bite, and the peppery note is really the whole point of the sandwich.