Science in the Kitchen and the Art of Eating Well (15 page)

Neither should we praise those who seek to spur their appetites with stimulants, for if you accustom your stomach to needing external agents to help it digest, you will end up sapping its vitality, and the production of gastric juices will become defective. As for sleep and rest, these functions are entirely relative and should conform to the needs of the individual, since we are not all made the same way. It sometimes happens that someone will feel a general, undefinable malaise without knowing the cause, when in fact it derives from nothing more than a lack of restorative repose.

I now close this series of precepts—jotted down as they came to me, simply and without pretensions—with the following two proverbs, drawn from foreign literatures:

E
NGLISH
P
ROVERB

Early to bed, early to rise
Makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise
.

French Proverb

Se lever à six, déjeuner à dix,
Dîner à six, se coucher à dix,
Fait vivre l’homme dix fois dix.

(
Up at six, lunch at ten,
Dinner at six, in bed at ten,
Makes a man live ten times ten
.)

And with this I wish my readers happiness and a long life.

*    *    *

A letter from the poet Lorenzo Stecchetti (Olindo Guerrini) to whom I sent a copy of the third edition of my cookbook as a gift:
⁵

Bologna
December 19, 1896

My dear Sir,

You cannot imagine what a pleasant surprise it was to receive your volume, in which you were good enough to remember me! I have long been, and forever remain, one of the most fervent followers of your work, which I find to be the finest, most practical and best, not only of all such works in Italian, which are a real disgrace, but even of foreign ones. Do you remember Vialardi,
⁶
considered the standard in Piedmont?

“GRILL BRAISÉ—The poultry should be singed, not pour boiled, while the filet, piqué with truffles and jambon, should be rouladed like a little valise in a brazier with butter. Humect often with graisse, then degorge and blanch some sweetbreads, making a farci as for quenelles the thickness of a cork, to be placed beside the filet. When cooked, degustate for salt, paint with tomato sauce cooked down to a glaze, and make as garniture a macedonia of chopped melonette and courgette and serve hot en terrine.”

You won’t find that in the book, but the terminology is all there.

As for other Kings and Queens of Cooks and other culinary majesties, all we have are translations from the French and incoherent compilations. To find a sensible recipe fit for a family one had to grope about, try to guess, and blunder. Thank God for Artusi!

This chorus of tribute hails from Romagna, where I have preached your volume with true enthusiasm. Praises are coming from every quarter. One dear relation of mine wrote to me: “At last we have a cookbook without the usual cannibalism, for the others always tell you: Take your liver, cut it into slices, and so on,” and expressed heartfelt thanks.

I myself had been thinking about writing a cookbook for the Hoepli’s series of manuals. I would have liked to write a book of vulgarization, as such works are sometime called; but lack of time as well as budget considerations
⁷
made the experimental part of it very difficult. Then your book came along, and this discouraged me utterly. I stopped thinking about it, but I was left with a pretty good collection of cookbooks that makes a handsome display in the dining-room bookcase. The first edition of your book, newly bound, interleaved and augmented by many recipes, has the place of honor there. The second edition is for everyday consultation, while the third will now steal the place of honor from the first because it boasts the Author’s autograph.

So as you can see, I have long known, admired and recommended your work. You can now appreciate how keen was my delight at receiving the copy you so kindly sent to me. At first only my stomach felt due gratitude toward you, but it is now joined by my whole spirit. For this reason, most distinguished Sir, in expressing my heartfelt thanks for your gift and courtesy, I am honored to humble myself with due recognition and esteem.

Your devoted admirer,
O. Guerrini

*    *    *

To my great surprise, the contessa Maria Fantoni, wife of the illustrious professor Paolo Mantegazza, honored me with the following letter, which I cherish as a welcome reward for my humble efforts:

San Terenzo (Golfo della Spezia)
November 14, 1897

Dear Mr. Artusi,

Please excuse my boldness, but I truly have to tell you how useful and precious your book has been to me. Yes, precious, for not a single one of the dishes I have made has turned out
not so well
and, indeed, some have been so perfect as to win high praise. Since the credit is
yours
, I wish to tell you this as a way of expressing my heartfelt thanks.

I have made
your
quince jelly, and it is now on its way to America: I sent it to my stepson in Buenos Aires, and I am sure it will be appreciated as it deserves. You write and describe things so clearly that executing your recipes is a true pleasure and brings me real satisfaction.

I wanted to tell you all this, and thus I took the liberty of writing you this letter.

My husband sends his affectionate regards.

And I shake your hand with sincere gratitude.

Maria Mantegazza

*   *   *

The dramas of the kitchen, or the despair of poor cooks when their employers invite friends to dinner (a true story; only the names have been changed):

The master says to his cook:

“Mind you, Francesco, Signora Carli doesn’t eat fish, be it fresh or cured, and won’t tolerate even the smell of its derivatives. And you already know that the Marquis Gandi cannot stand the smell of vanilla. Take care to avoid nutmeg and spices, since Judge Cesari hates them. In the desserts, be sure not to put in any bitter almonds, because Donna Matilde d’Alcantara won’t eat them. You already know that my good friend Moscardi never uses ham, lard, bacon or salt pork in his kitchen, since those things give him gas; so don’t put any in this dinner, or he might get sick.”

Francesco, who has been listening to the master with his mouth agape, finally exclaims:

“Anything else you would like to leave out,
my lord?”

“Actually, knowing my guests’ tastes as I do, there are a few other things I ought to warn you about. I know that a few of them take exception to mutton and say it tastes like tallow, and others find lamb difficult to digest. A number of them have also maintained, speaking of these matters in theory, that when they eat cabbage or potatoes they suffer from tympanitis, that is, their bodies swell up in the night and they have bad dreams. But these last ones we need not worry about.”

“All right, I know what to do,” adds the cook, muttering to himself as he leaves. “To satisfy all these people and ward off tympanitis, I think I’ll go see Marco (the house donkey) and ask him for his learned opinion and a platter of his products, without the related condiments!”

Before beginning this book, it seems appropriate to list here—without pretensions of scientific exactitude—the meat of different animals in diminishing order of nutritional value.

1.
feathered game

2.
beef

3.
veal

4.
poultry

5.
milk-fed veal

6.
mutton

7.
furred game

8.
lamb

9.
pork

10.
fish

This ordering could give rise to many objections, given that the animals’ age, the environment in which they live, and their diet, can all appreciably alter the quality of the meat among individuals of the same species, and even invalidate the distinctions drawn between the various species themselves.

A mature hen, for example, makes a better broth than beef does. And the ram, which grazes on the aromatic herbs found in high mountain valleys, can yield a meat more flavorful and nourishing than that of milk-fed veal. Among fish there are several species—including the Lake Garda carp (a relative of the trout)—which are more nourishing to eat than four-footed animals.

The hypocritical world gives scant importance to eating. Nevertheless, we can never celebrate a religious or civil holiday without unfurling the tablecloth, the better to gorge ourselves.

In the words of the poet Pananti:

Tutte le società, tutte le feste
Cominciano e finiscono in pappate
E prima che s’acconiodin le teste
Voglion essere le pance accomodate
.

Ipreti che non son dei meno accorti,
Fan died miglia per un desinare.
O che si faccia I’uffizio dei morti,
O la festa del santo titolare,
Se non v’e dopo la sua pappatoria
IIsalmo non finisce con la gloria
.

(
Every social gathering and holiday
is with a feast begun and terminated;
and before our heads can have their say
our bellies must be fully sated
.

Priests, who are said to know a thing or two,
will walk ten miles for a meal.
Whether giving last rites with little ado
or calling on the local saint to heal,
if food and drink don’t close the story,
they cannot end the psalm in glory
.)

As common folk know, to make a good broth you must put the meat in cold water, and bring the pan to a very slow boil, never letting it boil over. If, instead of a good broth, you prefer a good boiled beef, then put the meat in boiling water without any special care. Everyone knows that spongy bones add flavor and fragrance to broth; but a broth of bones is not especially nutritious.

In Tuscany, the custom is to give fragrance to the broth by adding a little bunch of aromatic herbs or
bouquet garni
. The bunch is not made of the leaves, which would quickly fall apart, but with the stalks of celery, carrots, parsley and basil—all of them in small proportions. Some add a little grilled onion; but since onions make wind they are not for all stomachs. If you like to color the broth in the French manner, you need only burn some sugar, and when it has sufficiently browned, dilute it with cold water. Boil this liquid until the sugar is completely dissolved, and then store it in a bottle.

To preserve the broth from day to day during the summer heat, bring it to a boil each morning and evening.

The foam that forms on the pot is the product of two substances: albumin from the surface of the meat which coagulates with the heat and combines with hematin, a blood coloring substance.

Earthenware pots, being slow conductors of heat, are preferable
to steel or copper, because they are easier to control on the fire. The only exception might be those English-made cast-iron pots, which have a valve in the center of the lid.

It has always been believed that broth was excellent food, nutritious and invigorating, but doctors now say that broth does not nourish at all, and in fact its main function is to stimulate the production of gastric juices in the stomach. Not being a competent judge in such matters, I will leave responsibility for this new theory, which seems to fly in the face of common sense, to those selfsame doctors.

An eminent specialist, who was attending a very ill woman of my acquaintance, ordered a broth for her prepared in the following manner.

Cut thin slices of veal or beef and layer them one atop the other in a wide pan. Salt them well, and cover them with cold water. Cover the pan with a plate, on which you will place a little water, and cook the meat at a gentle simmer for six hours. When the meat is nearly done, increase the heat to a rolling boil for ten minutes, and then pass the broth through a linen cloth.

With 2 kilograms of meat (about 4-1/2 pounds), you will thus obtain between 2/3 and 3/4 of a liter (almost a quart) of broth of fine color and rich in substance.