This recipe originates from the Alto Adige region in northern Italy. Feel free to substitute ham with other types of pork. But do not cut out horseradish, it brings out a lot of flavor from the meat and apples. One variation is to form the calzone with an open top.
I found working with the last post so entertaining that I just had to do another post from the same book although both are more more work than most posts. Because if you think arranging a party for your young ones would provide less problems than serving crabs to a couple of friends you are absolutely mistaken.
The set of worries maybe different, but the chance of ending with egg on your face was indeed present. And all the worries about what would happen to your furniture and floors came on top of that.
I was sixteen in 1969 and I must admit that the parties I went to back then were home-alone-parties that didn’t have the slightest likeness to the parties described in this book. If not totally Sex Drugs & Rock’n’Roll we were close enough.
Robert Carrier McMahon, OBE (Tarrytown, New York, November 10, 1923 – France, June 27, 2006), usually known as Robert Carrier, was an American chef, restaurateur and cookery writer. His success came in England, where he was based from 1953 to 1984, and then from 1994 until his death.
The original version of the salad was invented in the 1860s by a cook of Belgian origin, Lucien Olivier, the chef of the Hermitage, one of Moscow’s most celebrated restaurants. Olivier’s salad quickly became immensely popular with Hermitage regulars, and became the restaurant’s signature dish.
The exact recipe — particularly that of the dressing — was a jealously guarded secret, but it is known that the salad contained grouse, veal tongue, caviar, lettuce, crayfish tails, capers, and smoked duck, although it is possible that the recipe was varied seasonally. The original Olivier dressing was a type of mayonnaise, made with French wine vinegar, mustard, and Provençal olive oil; its exact recipe, however, remains unknown.
At the turn of the 20th century, one of Olivier’s sous-chefs, Ivan Ivanov, attempted to steal the recipe. While preparing the dressing one evening in solitude, as was his custom, Olivier was suddenly called away on some emergency. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Ivanov sneaked into Olivier’s private kitchen and observed his mise en place, which allowed him to make reasonable assumptions about the recipe of Olivier’s famed dressing.
Ivanov then left Olivier’s employ and went to work as a chef for Moskva, a somewhat inferior restaurant, where he began to serve a suspiciously similar salad under the name “capital salad” (Russian: столичный, tr. stolichny). It was reported by the gourmands of the time, however, that the dressing on the stolichny salad was of a lower quality than Olivier’s, meaning that it was “missing something.”
Later, Ivanov sold the recipe for the salad to various publishing houses, which further contributed to its popularization. Due to the closure of the Hermitage restaurant in 1905, and the Olivier family’s subsequent departure from Russia, the salad could now be referred to as “Olivier.”
One of the first printed recipes for Olivier salad, by Aleksandrova, appearing in 1894, called for half a hazel grouse, two potatoes, one small cucumber (or a large cornichon), 3-4 lettuce leaves, 3 large crayfish tails, 1/4 cup cubed aspic, 1 teaspoon of capers, 3–5 olives, and 1 1⁄2 tablespoon Provençal dressing (mayonnaise).
As often happens with gourmet recipes which become popular, the ingredients that were rare, expensive, seasonal, or difficult to prepare were gradually replaced with cheaper and more readily available foods.
Gypsy cuisine has been called “the little known soul food”. Gypsies have a rich and complicated identity and history, which is reflected in the delicious complexity of the food, and, like most things, it’s a lot better when you understand it. First, the word “Gypsy” is the term that gadjé (Rromanes for non-Romani people) have used to refer to Roma, the ethnic group originating in India around the eleventh century.
Gypsies divide food into two categories: “ordinary” and “auspicious” or “lucky” (baxtalo). Auspicious foods are believed to be particularly healthy for the body and soul, and these beliefs are likely rooted in Ayurveda, the traditional Hindu system of medicine that uses food, herbs, and yogic breathing to balance the body.
En classic British pie recipe found on cookit.e2bn.org
This recipe goes back a long time but was still popular amomg middel class Brits in the thirties as their dinner habits still was rather conservative back then.
By the 1950’s, poacher’s pie had become a working class dish and used cheaper ingredients, such as just sausage meat, and was cooked with only a top made of mashed potatoes.
The Big Mini Cook Book is a collection of 10 booklets bound as one book published by the Norwegian Meat Information Office. One could pick up these booklets at grocers for free about 10 yeas ago and they became very popular.
This is a convenient little dish that lends itself well both as a club snack or a Saturday evening meal. You may add a layer of cooked rice in the bottom of the mould if you want to make a more filling dish. Instead of the wine you can pour a little light cream over rolles before gratinating.
Gratinated ham rolls is a dish you can resort to when time is short. put the mould in the microwave and it takes only a minute or two before you can seve the dish.
It is not correct to use the term “fine cooking” about French farmhouse cooking. It is more a natural part of life. There is no Machiavellian refinements or superfluous embellishments. Just honest, good, simple ingredients that makes tasty dishes that suit the season, climate and work.
This dish is a speciality at the Marine Hotel. The hotel is huddled between the magnificent Pont de Tancarville and a crumbling chalk cliff, crowned by a fortress from the 1100s. Outside the windows the lively traffic on the Seine glides past and makes a wonderful accompaniment to the meal.
For a six-ingredient food product, it’s taken on a life of its own. Spam — the square-shaped mash-up of pork, water, salt, potato starch, sugar, and sodium nitrate — recently celebrated its 77th anniversary of being alternately maligned, celebrated, musicalized, or the subject of urban legend (one particularly pervasive myth insists that its name is actually an acronym for “Scientifically Processed Animal Matter”). And despite today’s more locavore approach to food and some unkind memories from soldiers who were served Spam during WWII, Spam has entered its third quarter-century on the rise. More than eight billion cans have been sold since the Hormel Corporation unleashed the product in 1937; it’s currently available in 44 countries throughout the world.
Spam’s ability to straddle highbrow and lowbrow is apparently in its DNA: Since its early days, even Jay Hormel, the man who Spam made rich, had a vexed relationship with the lunchmeat. In a 1945 “Talk of the Town” profile published in The New Yorker, Hormel met writer Brendan Gill over noontime drinks, during which Gill “got the distinct impression that being responsible for Spam might be too great a burden on any one man.” The piece sees Hormel waffling on his brand’s association with Spam, spending equal time distancing himself from it (“Sometimes I wonder if we shouldn’t have…”) and defending it (“Damn it, we eat it in our own home”).
The budget-friendly meat has enjoyed a recent upswing on the American mainland in part thanks to rising meat costs and a floundering economy: When the recession hit in early 2008, Spam saw its sales jump 10 percent compared to the previous year. A CBS News report noted that the increased numbers were seemingly accompanied by a cultural shift: Even consumers who continued to purchase expensive organic vegetables were adding cans of Spam to their pantries. The meat, once relegated as a quirk of Hawaiian or Asian cuisine, started appearing on haute restaurant menus as a nod to that highbrow/lowbrow mash-up, or perhaps to the chef’s feelings of nostalgia for the ingredient. (A quick search of Spam recipes from the ’60s reveals dishes like Spam upside-down pie; and Spam sandwiches topped with baked beans.)
Today, its sometimes-kitsch factor is a point of pride, for both Hormel and Spam fans: You can show your affection for Spam with everything from Hormel-authorized T-shirts (reading “I think, therefore I Spam”) to crocheted, cat-shaped Spam musubi (available for purchase, naturally, on Etsy). Here’s a look back at how Spam first got canned, why it’s currently beloved in Hawaii and South Korea, and why Spam remains on many restaurant menus today.
That recipe, using pork shoulder (once considered an undesirable byproduct of hog butchery), water, salt, sugar, and sodium nitrate (for coloring) remained unchanged until 2009, when Hormel began adding potato starch to sop up the infamous gelatin “layer” that naturally forms when meat is cooked. According to Behne, the recipe change was purely an aesthetic choice: “It looks a lot better now when you open the can.” The rest, Hormel insists, has remained the same.
Although lore behind the name Spam varies, Hormel himself claimed the product was named for a combination of the words “spice” and “ham,” despite the fact that neither ingredient appears in Spam. The confusion has led some to speculate that Spam is an acronym for “Shoulder of Pork And Ham,” but company line gives Kenneth Daigneau, the brother of a Hormel VP, credit for naming the product. As Hormel tells it, he launched a naming contest for the new product during a New Year’s Eve party, when Daigneau spit out “Spam” as if “it were nothing at all,” Hormel told Gill. “I knew then and there that the name was perfect.”
Text from eater.com
Eden Rock, St Barths is a luxury resort in Saint Barthélemy in the Caribbean, jutting out on a craggy quartzite bluff overlooking the Baie de Saint Jean on the central north coast. The resort is very popular with the rich and famous.
The resort was established in the 1950s by St Barth’s politician Rémy de Haenen (d.2008) who sold it to the Matthews family in 1995. It was reportedly frequented by Greta Garbo and Howard Hughes; Garbo once checked in for three days under the alias of Suzy Schmidt, but loved it so much that she stayed for three weeks.