Because it’s April, of course that means attempting a recipe or two from Last Dinner on the Titanic. So here’s this weekend’s dinner menu:
Consommé Brunoise tenté peut-être . . . mais peut-être pas
Églefin au four, sauce piquante Haricots vert
Salade oubliée qui s'en soucie
Baies en gelée de chartreuse
Since last week’s disappointing consommé experience, I’ve concluded that for a clear soup to be successful, it truly needs to be piping hot when placed on the table, and that it needs to be eaten immediately. That means not pausing to photograph it for Instagram*. So some leftover ingredients from last week got pressed into service. At least this was more flavorful. But you know . . . clear soup is very boring to eat, particularly when dining alone. I don’t think I’m going to bother with it any longer, except perhaps for a luncheon party when one can use those two-handled bouillon cups and just drink it.
The fish was much more successful. When it comes to cooking fish, I’m pretty much a rank amateur. But this recipe for baked haddock with sharp sauce from the second class menu in Last Dinner on the Titanic looked achievable. The sauce was actually much more involved than the fish, with butter, a small chopped onion, flour, brown sugar (!), dry mustard, cider vinegar, tomato paste, and a few other bits — and then it needed to be strained (to keep the blackened bits of onion out of the final product). But the result was delightful, and I can serve the leftovers on my breakfast eggs. The toughest part of dealing with the haddock (for me) was skinning it, but it got done.** After that it was fairly easy.
After all that, I wasn’t about to be bothered with some damn salad. In the words of the late Edith Potter, “I’d just as soon eat my way across a front lawn.”
Also darling, you might want to do something about portion control. Less is more, especially in this case.
I’d made peaches in chartreuse jelly from Last Dinner on the Titanic many years ago when my parents came for Thanksgiving. My father gave it his most severe criticism: “I don’t need to have that again.” But I do rather like the idea of making jelly with liqueurs, so . . . so why not make another attempt? With my allergy to peaches, I substituted berries.
Well . . . the final jelly looks like opalescent stained glass by Louis Comfort Tiffany or LaFarge, and I was surprised to realize that it was almost the exact color of the table runner. The recipe called for it to be served broken, but I think I’d have preferred it pre-molded in a champagne coupe. That would also be better for portion control. What you see on the plate is really too much.
The taste, however — how shall I say this? — it tastes very much of itself. Quite possibly adding whipped cream would help, but there’s nothing uncertain about this dessert. If it was a high school athlete, you’d tell it to take a shower. Thank goodness for Easter candy!
Next week I will probably find another recipe or two from Last Dinner on the Titanic, since that anniversary is approaching April 14-15.
*This exercise has, alas, turned Etiquetteer into what one friend describes as “the supperazzi.”
**Never ask how the sausage is made . . .