It's Not a Sauce Velouté, It's a Sauce Tournée

There is an old French Culinary Adage:

Anyone can learn to cook but sauce-makers are born.

I don't know where I first heard or read this, but I believe it to be true. Maybe it was something Julia Child once said. I love reading old cookbooks -ah! that's 19th century old, not your Mother's Betty Crocker. (I read that too, but for a different reason.)

"No one has any claim to be called a cook who cannot make soup without artificial clearing," said the Marchesa. "Like the poet, the consommé is born, not made. It must be clear from the beginning, an achievement which needs care and trouble like every other artistic effort, but one nevertheless well within the reach of any student who means to succeed." — The Cook's Decameron: A Study in Taste, Containing Over Two Hundred Recipes ... By W. G. Waters

And Reading in:

THE FRENCH COOK;

A SYSTEM OF FASHIONABLE, PRACTICAL, AND ECONOMICAL

COOKERY, ADAPTED TO THE USE OF ENGLISH FAMILIES. BY LOUIS EUSTACHE UDE,

CI-DEVANT COOK TO LOUIS XVI, CHARLES X., AND THE EARL OF SEFTON; PROJECTOR OF THE ORIGINAL COFFEE-ROOM HELD IN THE UNITED SERVICE CLUB-HOUSE IN ALBEMARLE STREET; STEWARD TO HIS LATE ROYAL HIGHNESS THE DUKE of YORK; AND FOR TWELVE SUCCESSIVE YEARS STEWARD AND MANAGER OF THE ST. JAMES CLUB.

FOURTEENTH EDITION,  CORRECTED AND REVISED THROUGHOUT BY THE AUTHOR;

IN WHICH ARE INTRODUCED A PRACTICAL METHOD OF ECONOMY, AND A SYSTEM FOR CLEANLINESS — OBSERVATIONS ON THE ADVANTAGE OF GOOD COOKERY

THE MEALS OF THE DAY NEW METHOD OF GIVING GOOD AND EXTREMELY CHEAP FASHIONABLE SUPPERs AND RUUTS AND SOIREES, AS PRACTISED BY THE AUTHOR WHEN WITH THE EARL OF SEFTON. MUCH GOOD ADVICE — ANECDOTES — RULES FOR CARVING — CHOICE OF MEAT AND AN ADDITIONAL LIST OF SEVERAL NEW DISHES, LATELY INTRODUCED INTO THIS COUNTRY BY THE AUTHOR.

LONDON : EBERS AND CO., 27, OLD BOND STREET., 1841.

So, reading on page 9, what to my wonderment, I saw:

19. Sauce Tournée.* 

Take some white thickening✝ (No. 14) dilute it with some consommé or broth of fowl neither too thin nor too thick I must repeat what I have already said that a sauce when too thick will never admit of the fat being removed Let it boil on the corner of the stove. Throw in a few mushrooms with a bunch of parsley and green onions. Skim it well and when there is no grease left, strain it through a tammy to use when wanted.

* This sauce is always Sauce Tournée is the sauce that the modern cooks call velouté but velouté properly so called will be found hereafter.

✝ You must adopt the name Roux Blanc because thickening is made with the yolks of eggs.

q.v.

21. The Velouté.

Take much about the same quantity of stock broth No. 2 and of the sauce No. 19 and boil them down a large fire. When this sauce is very thick have thick cream boiling and reduced which pour into sauce and give it a couple of boilings season with a salt and strain through a tammy. If the ham should too salt put in a little sugar. Observe that this is not to be so thick as the béchamel. 

22. Velouté, or Béchamel, a new method.

As it is not customary in England to allow a principal cook six assistants or deputies for half a dozen or even ten entrées. I have thought it incumbent on me to abridge, to the best of my abilities the various preparations of sauces, &c. Put into a stewpan a knuckle of veal, some slices of ham, four or five pounds of beef, the legs and loin of a fowl, all the trimmings of meat or game that you have, and moisten with boiled water sufficient to cover half the meat; make it sweat gently on a slow fire, till the meat is done through; this you may ascertain by thrusting your knife into it; if no blood follows, it is time to moisten with boiling water sufficient to cover all the meat. Then season with a bundle of parsley and green onions, a clove, half a bay leaf, thyme, a little salt. and trimmings of mushrooms. When the sauce has boiled long enough to let the knuckle be well done, skim off all the fat, strain it through a silken sieve, and boil down this consommé till it is nearly a glaze; next take four spoonsful of very fine flour, dilute it with three pints of very good cream, in a stewpan big enough to contain the cream, consommé, flour, &c; boil the flour and cream on a slow fire. When it boils, pour in the consommé, and continue to boil it on a slow fire if the sauce be thick, but on the contrary if the sauce be thin on a quick fire in order to thicken it. Season with salt but put no pepper. No white sauce admits pepper except when you introduce into it something chopped fine. Pepper appears like dust and should therefore be avoided This sauce should be very thick. Put it into a white basin through a tammy and keep it in the larder out of the dust. This sauce is the foundation, if I may so speak, of all sorts of little sauces especially in England where white sauces are preferred. On this account I seldom adopt the former method. In summer I was unable to procure any butter fit for use and accordingly I was forced to do without and found that my sauce was the better for it. This sauce should always be kept very thick as you can thin it whenever you please either with stock broth or with cream. If too thin it could not be used for so many purposes. NB With this sauce you make croquettes, rissoles, sauté of poulets, aux suprême, ditto aux concombres, ditto aux truffes, and partridges with truffles by adding the reduced consommé of game (No. 14 sauce).

and not forgetting No. 14.

14. White Roux✝ —  (White Thickening).

Put a good lump of butter into a stewpan let it melt over a slow fire, and when melted drain the butter and take out the buttermilk; then put in the butter, two or three spoonfuls of good flour enough to make a thin paste: keep it on the fire for a quarter of an hour, and take care not to let it colour; pour it into an earthen pan to use when wanted. 

✝This is an indispensable article in cookery and serves to thicken sauces the brown is for sauces of the same colour; and the colour must be obtained by slow degrees otherwise the flour will burn and give a bitter taste and the sauces become spotted with black.

And now, reader, you know why French Haute Cuisine is not practiced, even in France any more. 

Cioppino in San Francisco at Little Joe's on Broadway

Reviewing some recipes I recalled eating in North Beach at Little Joe's (on Broadway). I'll never forget the walk down Columbus and onto Broadway. I had seen the restaurant and it's dishes on a tv cooking show¹ and when I got a chance to visit SanFran, it is one of the places high up on the list of culinary adventures. Sadly, the owner has retired more than a decade now as I now write about this. The name and/or website has been purchased by an inferior place. There is no Little Joe's extant, but there are many restaurants styled: " ---Joe's ---" in San Francisco. Caveat Emptor.

My dinner there was just as spectacular as it had been when I saw it on tv. I sat at the counter and could watch the chef prep, cook and serve my cioppino. I'm not going to extol the virtues of it's wonderful flavor at length here. Plenty of other's have been more eloquent than I can be on that head.

I like authentic food and write about my philosophy of what makes food authentic at this post. As another foodie writes about seafood soups at Cioppino vs Cacciucco = Cioppucco - a Tuscan Foodie recipe, I won't go much further on that head. He's Italian and can write from a place I cannot begin to go. But, dear reader, bear with me, the last-little-bit-is-at-hand.

Saddened by the passing of this fabulous restaurant, and desirous of having some cioppino, I took to the 'net to locate Little Joe's cioppino recipe. Voila! It's not on the 'net. I got confused and quickly recovered when I located the cookbook Little Joe's Italian Cookbook by Franco Montarello. My local library has a copy and I eagerly opened the book to the section on SEAFOOD, only to find that there was no cioppino recipe. There is a caciucco (fish stew) recipe. As it is most reminiscent of what I ate, I reproduce it here, adding from memory of over 20 years ago of what I saw prepared for me.

The recipe says that the secret to this dish is to not let any one fish flavor overpower the others. Oh! and lastly, by way of preface, caciucco is to Italy as bouillabaisse is to France.

The thing about this dish is that it is best made in a restaurant. I'll explain in a moment. At Little Joe's, it was made individually for each customer. So to speak, one-at-a-time, or each dish was made in it's own sauté pan. I say it's a restaurant specialty as you need a stock for it. Restaurants don't throw food away, scraps are thrown into the simmering stock pot. As time goes by the stocks get richer and richer and you cannot do that in your home. Most of us can't. Most of us won't. However, as I much miss eating this dish, I'm making a necessary sacrifice to obtain it. I have a fish market near me and I'm thinking maybe they would set aside some fish bones and heads and scraps. I would make a court bouillion with those bits. That will suffice for a quality stock.

Caciucco (Fish Stew)

1 preboiled, cracked Dungeness crab

3 clams

4 mussels

7 medium size shrimp

2-3 ozs. Rock Cod (any rockfish will do)

3 tbs olive oil

1 tbs minced garlic

1/3 c. white wine

1 cup fish stock

1 c. marinara sauce

Heat a 10" sauté pan and add the olive oil. When the oil just begins to smoke, add the garlic and sauté 30 to 40 seconds. Add the clams and a tablspoon of stock, lower the heat, cover and heat until the clams open and release their juice. That's about 5 minutes. Next add the mussels, cover again for another 5 minutes. Remove any shellfish whose shells have remained closed. Add the rockfish. Raise the heat and sauté three to four minutes until the rockfish is partially cooked. Add the wine and stock and then the crab and shrimp. Simmer 3 to 4 minutes, covered. The remainder of the cooking is without the lid. Add the marinara sauce. Bring to a simmer on high heat, reducing to about 1 cup of liquid remaining. (you can ballpark this reduction). Once the mussels and clams have opened, pour over linguine or angel-hair pasta or rice. (gee should I have said risotto?)

At Little Joe's, I saw them add the wine, tip the pan to catch the wine on fire and then add the remaining liquids. This necessitates have the sauté pan over a high flame.

Serve in a soup bowl. 

Above is for one serving.

Below is the recipe given for Little Joe's tomato sauce. 

2 qts. crushed tomato in heavy puree (this is something only a restaurant can buy) See why here, at the bottom of the page.

2 qts. chicken broth (again, think of all the chicken scraps tossed into a stock pot, refilled with water and more chix, every day)

4 stalks celery

3 onions, minced

1 tsp. rosemary, dried

1 tbs. oregano, dried (preferably not Mexican oregano)

4 bay leaves

2 tbs. chopped, fresh basil

1/4 c. garlic, minced

2 tbs. black pepper, ground

1/3 c. salt

1/2 c. olive oil

1/4 c. cornstarch

1/2 c. water for cornstarch, above

grated parmesan cheese

Combine the crushed tomato, chicken broth, celery and onion, rosemary, oregano, bay leaves, basil, garlic, black pepper, salt and olive oil in a stock pot. Simmer 2 to 4 hours, slightly covered [slightly covered addition by yours truly Secret_Ingredient]. At the end of the simmering, mix the water and cornstarch and add to the pot, stirring to mix well. Use with pasta of choice and top with grated parmesan cheese. 

8 to 10 portions.

I wrote about the Tuscan guy, above. He sagely points out that this type of fish dish is made with the stuff the fisherman cannot sell. The off-fall. He goes on to point out that the next time you pay $30 or 25€ for the dish to remember that it's supposed to be peasant food, not some hoity-toity dish of danties for the uninformed. (I'll close with: 

As it's unfortunately July 2016 and the [confound them] Presidential election season is upon us, here in the U.S.A.) 

Don't be a low information foodie.
=========

¹ 

The TV show title, I have since remembered is The Frugal Gourmet and putting aside the sad past of that fellow, I find in his cookbook titled: The Frugal Gourmet Cooks Italian, the recipe that inspired this post on page 431.

Stating that cioppino  is "particularly popular in the Southern regions" his recipe is thus:

Serves 4-6

16 ozs. clams (The true Italian bay sized vongole are unavailable in the U.S. and the author called for Manilla Clams as a substitute.) 

24 ozs. mussels

24 ozs. fresh cod fillets, cut in 1" cubes

16 ozs. medium shrimp (41-50 size)

2 tbs olive oil

4 cloves garlic, peeled and sliced

1/2 cup dry vermouth

1/2 cup chicken stock

1/2 cup bottled clam juice

4 tbs. butter

1/4 cup parsley chopped

12 ozs. Sicilian Tomato sauce (recipe follows)

salt

pepper

Rinse the clams in a colander. Put in a bowl and cover by 2" with water. Reserve 60 minutes. Drain and using a pliers or kitchen forceps, remove the beards.

Heat a 6 to 8 quart stock pot into which put 1 tbs. of olive oil and 2 cloves of garlic. Saute for 10 seconds and add the bearded, drained clams. Next add 2 fl. ozs. of the vermouth and cover to simmer for 5 to 7 minutes until the clams open. Strain out the clams, reserving the liquid. Reserve the clams, loosely covered, to cool, but not dry out.
Cook the mussels in the same pot, using the remaining oil, garlic and vermouth. The mussels will take a little less time to cook. Strain out the mussels in the same container the clams are in.
Return the pot to the burner along with both reserved liquids, and add the chicken stock, bottled clam juice, butter, parsley and tomato sauce. Bring to a boil, lower heat to a simmer and simmer 3 minutes, uncovered to reduce a bit. Add the shrimp, simmer 2 minutes longer. Add the reserved clames and mussels in their shells and heat through. Add salt and pepper and serve in soup bowls.

I won't repeat the Fresh Tomato Sauce Sicilian from the cookbook as I don't see it's benefit. As the risk of bragging, my marinara sauce uses some lemon juice and zest and I think it's a more authentic flavor with the seafood and fishes, above.

I Arrive In Nice and Eat a Salade Niçoise

My Approximate Route

As I arrived in Nice France for my last few days in Europe it was getting towards dusk. I collected my belongings and walked away from the Gare de Nice-Ville. In my month long stay in Europe I had learned that the further you are away from the train station, the quieter your night will be. So with that in mind, I walked away from the train station. I had no reservations anywhere or even an idea of where I might find lodging for the night. As I walked, the light of the day gave way to shadows. It was becoming difficult to read street names or numbers. I was unsure that the part of Nice where I walked would have street lamps, nor when they would illuminate my way. I walked another block or two and saw no hôtels. I remembered I had seen one within one block of the Gare de Nice-Ville, but nervously held out for, as I said to myself: "just another block or two, before turning back". On I walked and just as the dark made it impossible to see, I came across a banner, hanging from a building, bearing the words: Hôtel Athena. Remember that, if you ever are in Nice. As I arrived at the front door of the Hôtel, they were just locking up for the night. As they saw I was a customer, the door was unlocked and I dragged myself into the front room. I can't call it the lobby. It was much too small. I dragged out my French phrase book, started to speak, when the lady at the front desk, asked me in English what I wanted. I said a room for the night and that they had. I asked to see the room and the landlord gave me a key. I dragged my bag up to this room. It had windows facing the street, but they were closed. It had a queen size bed. It was firm. That was the only bed I slept in throughout Europe that had a firm mattress. I went back downstairs, and gave the lady my passport and money. She made to leave when I stopped her and asked where I might find a salade Niçoise. At this she perked up a little and gave me some directions down to the Place Masséna, where, I was informed a Salade Niçoise could be had. So, off I darted, and the hôtel staff was forced to wait up for my return. Which, when I returned I found that they had all gone to bed. At the Place Masséna, which is a walking street, there were a number of restaurants. And most were already closed. But one, exactly in the middle of the pedestrian walkway was open. And they had a salad for me. Then I walked back to the hôtel I was full and happy. And I had the best night's sleep I had in a month. In the morning, I opened the windows. The sunlight was beautiful, the air was clear and sweet smelling and I was elated to have found such nice lodging at such a reasonable price. I came downstairs, found coffee, croissants, and jelly. I ate so much that I surprised mine host. I thanked her for the help and she asked when I was leaving. I said that I was taking the night train to Paris (my 2nd to last day in Europe). She said I could see the Antiques Market, but her tone was one of sadness for me. She really wanted me to see the flower market. A last word about this woman. I believe she owned the building. The hôtel. She was mid-to-late 50s. Blonde. Stocky, but in an attractive way. She is bourgeois in the best sense of the word. A real gem of a Frenchwoman. I'm sorry I didn't have more time to talk to her.

Down to the Cours Selaya I went and had a wonderful time looking at the antiques. As I walked along I found a bakery where I had slice of pissaladière Niçoise. Unfortunately they heated it in a microwave oven. I also found a strange little shop. The owner roasted coffee in it. The aroma was overpowering and good. Other than coffee, he only had oregano, of which I purchase one bag. It has an extraordinary aroma. It is like Mexican oregano, but with a half-note of mint added. So, that was my day in Nice as it's worth reporting. My night consisted of eating a socca. I will have to give a recipe for socca in another post.

I walked back up the Cours Selaya and the street changed it's name to Rue Saint-François de Paule. Along it I saw the mill of Nicolas Alziari. An ancient shop of all things olive. From wooden tools made of the olive tree to the oil itself. Sadly, for me, it was closed. I would call it a must see in Nice.

Later, while still wandering on foot, I found someone selling olives, the picholine and walked and ate them. I wandered in and out of the Casinos, the beaches and another pedestrian shopping area.

My way of touristing is to grab a bus and go. It doesn't matter which direction or where. So, using that technique, I found my way to the old port of Nice. And as the bus rounded the sharpest right turn I have ever had the discomfort to be a part of; out the window I saw a home oil and wine and perfume making shop. I grabbed the stop-bell-rope for dear life, and 2 blocks later I had the chance to walk back to this place. They had wooden casks and barrels for aging wines, and stills for making perfumes, and labels for your olive oil bottles, just in case you pressed your own olive oil. And yes, they had the presses, too!

All recipes for the Salade Niçoise are flexible. This site give an excellent, if exalted recipe. I don't like the artichokes. And if someone else gave a recipe using red potatoes, that I would find fault with as well.
Yet, there must be some same ingredients in each one that give the name of the dish it's meaning. Those must be: tuna fish, niçoise olives, tomatoes, cucumber and anchovies. Other than that, your choice of lettuces are yours. As well as the type of cucumber. As Persian cucumbers have become widely available in Hollywood (where I live), I prefer them to all other cucumbers. There is a spelling error in the recipe link. Where, in the ingredient list it calls for: 10 feuilles de basilicfacultatif, that should read: basilic facultatif.

Photo from Nice Rendevous copyright 2010

The link says this about the famous salade:

"RECETTE SALADE NICOISE - Fleuron du patrimoine culinaire du Comté de Nice, la SALADE NIÇOISE est présente sur les tables des restaurants dans les cinq continents, mais que de crimes (de goût) ne commet-on pas en son nom!"

The SALADE NICOISE - Flagship of the culinary culture of the County of Nice, the SALADE NIÇOISE is served at restaurant tables on five continents. But of the crimes (of taste) we will not comment on in [the salad's name].

Waiters in Paris France

I first saw Paris in 1995. I stayed in Montmarte at Le Hôtel de Fleur de Bouquet de Montmartre (18th. arr., now sadly closed). In back of the hôtel, is Le Vrai Paris café, on the Rue des Abbesses. Every morning I ate a croissant and coffee there. And sometimes I would have an espresso in the afternoon. The same waiter was always there. He was the most distinguished waiter I have ever seen. With his small white mustache and full head of all white hair. His white apron, and punctilious manner, he was the very model of the Parisian waiter.


I don't speak French. Not even enough to order quickly. So I would say to this waiter, in my best English accented French: "croissant et café, beurre et confiture". I came to realize that he had other customers to serve and my lack of proficiency in speaking his language did not give me a privilege to take more of his time than another customer. He would bring the food, serve it and leave. The fewer words he spoke to me, and everyone else in the cafe, the better. He was not rude, ever. But he was almost officious, and with everybody in the cafe! The French and the other nationalities had to endure his office.


Then, one afternoon, the butchers from across the Rue came into the cafe. My waiter lit up like a Christmas tree! I still hear him say: "Monsieurs!" (with spoken emphasis on MON) and all the appropriate male-to-male endearments allowed in Parisian culture. They got the good service, the extra attention, the patience of Job, his care and concern. And as I reflected on this, I realized that those fellows were likely the sons of the butchers who had first patronized Le Vrai Paris when the waiter was new there, before his hair turned white. He had an almost intimate relationship with the boys. Probably meeting them when they were first taken to work with their fathers.


So, it occurs to me that this waiter was short with almost all other customers. That, as those fellows he knew came in everyday and that the waiter saw their custom (and tips) as his bread and butter. Everyone else merely another customer.


Repeat business. That's what makes all waiters glad to see their customers. But, in Paris, that can take some time.