Russian Afternoon Tea Cake?

An ultra-short (but sweet :) ) post today folks, as other things seem to have taken over my life this last few days.

Could the pastry described in the following article from the New York Times of April 8, 1909, be filed under ‘fusion cuisine’ do you think? Does this combination of flavours and layers - suggested to be ‘Russian’ - have any degree of authenticity in that country? It sounds delicious. I am intrigued.

SWEETS FOR AFTERNOON TEA.

A young woman who has been to Russia has introduced on her tea table a little cake that is popular among her friends.
A rich, puff paste is divided into four parts, each rolled as thin as possible. On one sheet is put almond paste, on another pounded peanuts or pistache nuts, on a third currant jelly or orange marmalade. The layers are placed on each other, honey or maple syrup is poured over, and the whole baked in a moderate oven until delicate brown.
When cold the crust is cut in squares or diamonds, and passed on a plate covered with a lace doily.

Quotation for the Day.

Tea pot is on, the cups are waiting, Favorite chairs anticipating, No matter what I have to do, My friend there's always time for you.
Anon (?)

Borodinsky Bread.

This day is the anniversary in 1812 of the Battle of Borodino. The event was the largest, and by far the most significant, of Napoleon Bonaparte’s campaign to invade Russia. There always has to be a ‘winner’ of a battle, and technically on this day it was the French, although the total cost was high – 65,000 bodies, lying six to eight deep in places, littered the battlefield at the end of the day.


The temporarily defeated Russians made a strategic withdrawal, but could recover on their own land, and had a massive population from which to draw more troops. Napoleon’s depleted Grand Armée may have won the battle, but they lost the war – defeated in large part by the bitter Russian winter as they made their way home.


What has this got to do with food, you ask? Well, there is a particular Russian rye bread called Borodino, or Borodinsky Bread which is associated with this day. Myth says that a wife of a General, wishing to cheer the troops on the eve of the battle, made a batch of the staple Russian rye bread, adding wild coriander seeds which she had gleaned that day. Truth says that sour rye bread had been around in Russia for centuries. And common sense says that it would have been logistically impossible for even the most caring and skilled General’s wife to have made rye bread for many thousands of troops (a few select officers, perhaps, but that is not the myth.)


I have been unable to find a genuine historical recipe for this Borodino bread, but can assure you there are many ‘on the net.’ There is however, is an interesting explanation of the Russian method of making sour rye bread in The Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society of London (1778) – a very interesting non-cookery book source of recipes. I guess if coriander seeds were to be added, it might represent the real thing. The article makes a point about the Russian preference for a degree of acidity in their bread, and also discusses the making of quass (kvass) – a fermented beverage made from rye bread.

The manner of making the Russian rye bread. – In the morning they mix as much rye flour with warm milk, water, and a bason full of grounds of quass, or leaven, as will make a thin dough, and beat it up for half an hour with the chocolate staff before described*; this they set in a warm place till night, when they add more meal by degrees, working it up at the same with the staff, till the dough becomes stiff. They then return it to its warm situation till morning, at which time they throw in a proper quantity of salt, and work it with the hand to a proper consistence for bread; the longer this last operation is continued the better; they then place it before the fire till it rises, when it is cut into loaves, and returned once more to the warm place where it before stood, and kept there for an hour before the last part of the process, the baking, which completes it.

*In the instructions for the preparation of quass there is reference to “ a machine resembling the staff of a chocolate pot, but larger”, for the ‘working’ of the liquid.


Quotation for the Day:


Every few thousand years some shepherd inhales smoke from a burning bush and has a vision or eats moldy rye bread in a cave and sees God.
Kerry Thornley.

Bread, or Beer?

The people of Britain were faced with a particular dilemma early in 1917. The First World War was dragging wearily on, and there was a serious shortage of grain. In January, the Food Controller had warned that it was ‘really a question of bread v. beer.” A choice between bread and beer - the two great products of fermented grain, and the two great staples of Europe for millennia – an ominous situation, and a very difficult choice, Yes?

A letter to The Times from Mr. Duncan Miller, M.P, was printed in the edition of April 28. Mr. Miller made his choice quite clear, and also reminds those of us who read his words today of a more sinister use for alcohol.

“The public cannot be expected to take seriously the appeals made to them for economy in bread and sugar while the Government is allowing the consumption of 367,220 tons of barley and 44,700 tons of sugar in the manufacture of beer during the present year, and also of 425,000 qr.of grain in the manufacture of spirits, not a gallon of which can be consumed under the Immature Spirits (Restriction) Act, 1915, for three years. In view of the serious shortage of cereals, and of the growing submarine menace, the first duty of the Ministry of Food surely ought to be to lay aside the 1,000,000 qr. of malt at present in the hands of the brewers, and the further large quantity of malted barley in the hands of the distillers, for the production of bread and other food for the people. If the Food Controller’s statement in January was true, i.e., that it was ‘really a question of bread v. beer,’ it is much truer today, and the use of malted barley in various forms would provide a valuable additional food supply. Alternatively, the Food Controller might at least ration all consumers of grain and sugar on the same footing, whether consumed in the form of bread an sugar or of beverages in the manufacture of which sugar and grain are employed.

The nation is now beginning to realize that, if compulsory rations are to be introduced, this will be due in no small degree to the unlimited consumption of malt liquors and other spirituous beverages permitted in the past, and the large quantity of cereals still allowed to be used for their manufacture.

Another valuable saving might readily be effected by the use of such quantity of the 156 ½ million gallons of bonded spirits as may be suitable for the manufacture of explosives. This would at once release for the food of the people a further considerable supple of grain and other materials presently employed in manufacturing alcohol for explosives.”

If you have both bread and beer, then you are indeed blessed. You can even combine them, if you wish, as in the following recipes, taken from the book Soups, by S.Beaty-Pownall, (London, 1904)

Beer Soup (German)
Bring two quarts of bottled beer to the boil, remove a little of the froth, sweeten to taste with brown sugar, add the rind of a lemon cut in fine strips free from pith, and a little stick cinnamon. Have ready some crisp, nicely toasted bread cut into strips or fingers (or use zwieback); place these in the tureen, pour the scalding soup upon it and serve.

Beer Soup (Russian)
Bring two quarts of barley beer to the boil, with 6 oz. or 7 oz. of loaf sugar; beat up the yolks of six or eight eggs with a gill of sour cream, strain these into a large hot basin, work to them gradually the boiling beer, and serve very hot.

Quotation for the Day
Do not cease to drink beer, to eat, to intoxicate thyself, to make love, and to celebrate the good days.
Egyptian Proverb.

Russian Soup.

Bear with me, Dear Readers, for I must have one more dalliance with ‘Russian’ food - Russian food as it was perceived by the English-speaking world that is. One of the favourite ‘Russian’ dishes at this time was ‘Salade à la Russe', but I discussed it (and Strawberries Romanoff) and gave a recipe in a post some time ago, so please re-visit if you are interested. The remaining ubiquitous ‘Russian’ dish is of course borscht – or beetroot soup by its translated and variously spelled name. The interesting thing is that this soup is certainly not exclusively Russian, and was not originally made with beets.

The Poles and the Ukrainians also claim this soup, and its name comes from a plant similar to the parsnip, belonging to the carrot family. One traveller in Russia in 1808 said ‘They have a kind of soup, however, which is made of groats and vegetables, of which they are very fond: this soup is rather sour, and is called borsch, from the name of the carrot which is boiled in it.’

This soup is a peasant dish, and like all soups and all peasant dishes is as infinitely variable as circumstances and ingredients allow. There are fermented versions and hot and cold versions for the varying seasons, but the dollop of sour cream may well be a modern abomination. I await advice from those of you familiar with ‘authentic’ Russian food.


Borsht.
Take some red beetroots, wash thoroughly and peel, and then boil in a moderate quantity of water from two to three hours over a slow fire, by which time a strong red liquor should have been obtained. Strain off the liquor, adding lemon juice, sugar, and salt to taste, and when it has cooled a little, stir in sufficient yolks of eggs to slightly thicken it. May be used either cold or hot. In the latter case a little home-made beef stock may be added to the beet soup.
If after straining off the soup the remaining beetroot is not too much boiled away, it may be chopped fine with a little onion, vinegar and dripping, flavored with pepper and salt, and used as a vegetable.
International Jewish Cook Book. Florence Greenbaum. 1919.


Quotation for the Day.

“I believe that I once considerably scandalised her by declaring that a clear soup was a more important factor in life than a clear conscience.”
‘Saki’ (H.H.Munro) (1870-1916), The Blind Spot

Russian style.

Yesterdays musings on Charlotte Russe made me wonder about the larger picture of dishes styled ‘à la Russe.’ Did ‘Russian’ food become fashionable at some point in the rest of the world? Food fashions come and go, and have always done so amongst those who can afford to pick and choose. And what did the rest of the world consider to be specifically ‘Russian’ features or ingredients?

The first recipe I have found so far is for partridges, and it appeared in The Lady’s assistant for Regulating her Table, (1787), by Charlotte Mason. I really don’t know what is ‘Russian’ about this dish.

Partridges à la Russe.
Take some young partridges; when they are picked and drawn, cut them into quarters, and put them into some white wine; then set on a stew-pan, with slices of bacon, over a brisk fire; throw in the partridges, turn them two or three times; then pour in a glass of brandy, and set them over a slow fire; when they have stewed some time, put in a few mushrooms cut in slices, and some good gravy; let them simmer briskly, and take up the fat as it rises: when they are done, put in a piece of butter rolled in flour, and squeeze in the juice of a lemon.

One common theme which did develop in savoury dishes ‘à la Russe’ was some sort of pickle, or at least some vinegar. This idea appeared in an early recipe for a dish styled‘à la Russe’which can be found in A New System of Domestic Cookery, by Maria Rundell (1808).


Sturgeons à la Russe
When the sturgeon is cleaned, lay it for several hours in salt and water; take it out an hour before it is wanted, rub it well with vinegar, and pour a little over it. Then put it into a fish-kettle, cover with boiling water, an ounce of bay-salt, two large onions, and a bunch of sweet herbs. Stew it until the bones will separate easily; then take it up, remove the skin, flour it, and place it to brown before the fire, basting it well with butter; serve it up with a rich sauce, and a garnish of pickles.

The inimitable William Kitchiner, in his Cook’s Oracle (1817) includes a Recipe for Sauce to Wild Fowls for which he proudly asserts ‘the following sauce for wild fowl has been preferred to about fifty other; and, at one time, was not to be got without a fee of one guinea. It includes one tablespoon of ‘Sauce à la Russe (the older the better)’. In a footnote referring to this sauce, he says ‘by à la Russe' we suppose cavice, or corach, or soy, is meant.’ I can see the pickle in ‘cavice’ (which is supposedly ceviche). I am confused about ‘corach’ which the OED knows as an alternative spelling of ‘currach’ or ‘coracle’ – a small wicker boat used in ancient times in Scotland and Ireland – hardly the usage here. ‘Corach’ does appear in John Simpson’s A Complete System of Cookery (1813) in a recipe for Shrimp Sauce, along with a little lemon pickle, but so far I have not been able to clarify what exactly it is. As for sauce à la Russe referring to soy, I can only say that Dr Kitchiner got his culinary wires confused somewhere.

There is much more to be discovered on this ‘Russian’ theme – so please watch this space!

The riches of the sea.

Today, July 23, is the day that we would have devoted to honouring Neptune, the god of the sea and water, if we were in Ancient Rome. Actually, now that I think about it, Neptune should be honoured here in Modern Brisbane, which has some pretty damn divine seafood that any god would be honoured to be offered. In fact, I think we’ll go and eat fish (and chips) tonight at the usual place, if we can find a coupla friends to go with us (you know who you are …)

What, exactly, the Romans did to celebrate Neptune is not entirely clear to me, but I am not an ancient historian (you can take that any way you like.) They apparently built small shelters (umbrae) of leaves and branches and so on, under which they enjoyed the Roman equivalent of picnics, drank cool spring water and wine, and otherwise desported themselves.

Today I make a symbolic offering to Neptune and all seafood lovers. I give you all a recipe for the famously, spectacularly, ridiculously extravagant fish soup supposedly made for the Russian Empress Catherine II.

Soup Of Fillets Of Perch ; from the Empress Catherine II.

(Potage de Filets de Perches a la Catherine II)

The consommé being prepared as before, trim, in small escalopes, the fillets of three perch, throw salt over them; an hour after wash, drain, and lay them in a saute-plate; afterwards make a quenelle of cray-fish, with cray-fish butter; mark an essence of fish thus: cut in lengths a small eel, a sole, a small pike, and the trimmings of the perch ; add four pottles of mushrooms, two onions sliced, parsley-roots, two cloves, a pinch of pepper and grated nutmeg, bay-leaf, thyme, basil, two new anchovies, the flesh of a sound lemon, a bottle of Champagne, and a little salt; boil it slowly for an hour, squeeze it through a tammy upon the fillets of perch, which boil for ten minutes; add six livers of burbots, six roes of carp, and twenty-four small mushrooms turned and very white; having simmered the escalopes of perch for some minutes, drain them and lay them in the tureen, and upon them place the livers, roes, and mushrooms; pour the liquor from them into the consomme, which thicken slightly with a light roux; when serving, add a liaison of twelve eggs, and four ounces of cray-fish butter; stir the soup, that the liaison may mix perfectly smooth; and, as soon as it begins to boil, pour it into the tureen, adding the points of a bundle of asparagus, prepared as for an entree; serve.
The Practical Cook, English and Foreign, J. Bregion and A.Miller, 1845

If anyone wants to make this soup for me today, I am willing to forgo the fish restaurant. I can be reached by email (see the top of the sidebar), which I will check frequently throughout the day.

Quotation for the Day.

[T]his planet is covered with sordid men who demand that he who spends time fishing shall show returns in fish.
Leonidas Hubbard, Jr.

From Russia, with recipes.

May 27 ...

Cookery is a constantly evolving and adapting art and science, and it can be difficult if not impossible to determine the roots of many dishes – even the fiercely national ones. Most dishes are like mongrel dogs, with a little bit of a lot of influence. Often the Anglicised names of dishes are a clue. There must be twenty different spellings of ‘pilau’ in old English cookbooks, for example. Sometimes a recipe would simply be designated ‘in the Spanish style’, or ‘the French way’, or ‘Italian fashion’. By the nineteenth century, a few cookbooks started to appear that proudly demonstrated and promoted ‘foreign’ food.

A ‘coulibiac’ is, according to the OED ‘A Russian pie of fish or meat, cabbage, etc.’ The cabbage appears again, I see – which is ironic as this post arose out of my need to balance Pushkin’s ‘national monotonous diet’ idea.

Here are a couple of ‘Russian pies’ à la English-language cookbooks - one simply named, the other accurately enough. Both without cabbage.

Russian Fish-Roll.
Chop some cooked trout and white fish, and mix with ½ cup of boiled rice. Season with salt, pepper and all kinds of herbs minced fine. Then make a rich pie-paste and roll out very thin. Fill with the mixture and make into a roll. Sprinkle with bits of butter and let bake until brown. Serve hot with wine-sauce.
[365 Foreign dishes, a foreign dish for every day in the year. 1908]

Coulibac. (Russia.)
Make a paste as for baba pudding or Savarin, and roll it very thin. Cut into a large square, fill it with a forcemeat of veal, rice, eggs, herbs, butter, stock, and mushrooms, and roll it up like jelly cake. Dust the top with crumbs, and bake it 1 hour. Serve with hot wine sauce, in slices.
[With A Saucepan Over The Sea; Quaint And Delicious Recipes From The Kitchens Of Foreign Countries, Adelaide Keen. Boston, Little, Brown And Company, 1902.]

Tomorrow’s Story …

Equal to an Egg.

Quotation for the Day …

Tomatoes and oregano make it Italian; wine and tarragon make it French. Sour cream makes it Russian; lemon and cinnamon make it Greek. Soy sauce makes it Chinese; garlic makes it good. Alice May Brock.

National Monotonous Diet.

May 26 ...

According to the Julian calendar (the one followed by the Orthodox Church), May 26 1799 was the birthday of the Russian writer Alexander Pushkin (his birthday according to the ‘new’ Gregorian calendar is June 6.)

My knowledge of Russian cuisine is next to nothing, and I certainly cannot read Russian, so his statement ‘Cabbage soup and barley. They’re Russia’s national food. Both excellent in their way, but a shade monotonous’ had me interested. Surely it is a sweeping generalisation? It would be expected perhaps from a man committed as he was to social reform - the two items reflecting the daily food of the poor folk, not the elegant tables of the rich and famous.

In the early nineteenth century one Western observer noted that the daily ‘Full Diet’ in the hospital in Galitzin consisted of ‘cabbage soup, one pound of beef, with boiled buckwheat a pound and a half of bread.’ As for the ordinary labourer, study of the situation in ‘a considerable portion of America and Europe’ in 1843 gave the basic diet of that of the Russian example as ‘rye bread, buckwheat, and sour cabbage soup, seasoned with salt and lard’. Yet another visitor to the large factories in Russia in 1828 enquired about the food of the ‘industrious children’ employed therein. He was pleasantly surprised as to their good conditions:

‘They rise in the first place uniformly at six o'clock, winter and summer ; and after prayers begin their daily labour. Half a pound of bread is sent round to them at eight o'clock, and at twelve they dine. For this meal and recreation an hour and a half in winter, and two hours in summer, are allowed. The dinner consists of plain or cabbage soup, (stchy) beef and kascha, and rye bread, five days in the week; and of fish, (sniatky,) in their cabbage soup, the other two days in the week. Kvass is their beverage ad libitum, according to the season of the year. They again work from half past one or two, till half past seven ; and at four o'clock receive a second half-pound of rye bread. Supper is prepared at eight, consisting of soup, and kascha of buckwheat, kroupa (grits), in winter, or milk in summer; recreation till nine.”

Not much variation so far, at least amongst the opinions of foreign visitors. As late as 1990 the typical daily prison fare in the USSR was reported by the Helsinki Watch Organization as:

Breakfast: Kasha, brown bread, tea and some sugar.
Lunch: Cabbage soup, mashed potatoes, bread.
Supper: Fish soup and bread.

As so often happens, relative poverty is not a barrier to hospitality, and although the cabbage soup of the ordinary nineteenth century Russian may have been monotonous, it was freely shared with unexpected visitors. One intrepid foot traveller in the 1820’s (John Dundas Cochrane) wrote:

‘On reaching the Asiatic side of the Ural chain, I could not help remarking that the inhabitants of all the villages were much more civil, more hospitable, and more cleanly dressed; and in no one instance would they accept of money for the food I had occasion to procure. I never entered a cottage, but shtshee (a cabbage soup), with meat, milk and bread, were immediately placed before me unasked; nor could any entreaty of mine induce them to receive a higher reward than a pipe of tobacco, or a glass of vodka (whisky).’

Thankfully, to fulfil our requirement of a recipe a day, another visitor described the method of making cabbage and barley soup – and includes the enrichments of the rich, proving that it was not solely fuel for the poor.

Cabbage Soup.
The cabbage-soup (shtshee) is the favourite national dish, and is variously prepared. Six or seven cabbages, chopped up, half a pound of barley-meal, a quarter of a pound of butter, a couple of pounds of mutton cut up, and a handful of salt, stewed in two cans of kwass, make an ordinary mess. The very poor omit the butter and mutton; the richer classes substitute broth for kwass, and enrich the dish with cream and other ingredients.
[Russia ancient and modern, By George Trevor, 1862]

I may not be able to read Russian, but I am not fooled by the reports of these visitors, who must surely have suffered from ethnic-blindness. Why did they not mention Coulibiac? Piroschki? Caviar? Blinis? …….. ?

Tomorrow’s Story …

From Russia, with recipes.

Quotation for the Day …

I would rather live in Russia on black bread and vodka than in the United States at the best hotels. America knows nothing of food, love or art. Isadora Duncan.