So, what's on your menu for your holiday entertaining? Might it include Galantine of Duck? I thought not. But back in 1958, House & Garden suggested it as part of a holiday open house menu. This is why I love these old magazines. The recipes were kind of fancy compared to the way we cook today. But that said, don't you think that Lobster Supreme and Paupiettes de Veau sound a lot more sophisticated than Sliders (can we please call those little hamburgers by a different name?)
Truth be told, what initially caught my eye were those glossy black lampshades. But then I focused on that intriguing looking dish in the foreground which just happens to be the Galantine of Duck. In case you're wondering, a galantine is made of meat that has been de-boned, poached, and then chilled and covered with aspic. That would explain the gelatinous looking stuff around the base of the galantine.
The rest of the menu included Pâté Maison, Hot German Potato Salad, Brioches, and Chocolate Roll. I actually think it all sounds rather tasty. But what might be even more interesting than the menu is the room where this photo and the others below were taken: the Manhattan dining room of James Amster, noted decorator and developer of Amster Yard where Billy Baldwin once had an apartment. With decor like this, I think you could serve chopped liver and everyone would still have a marvelous time.
(All images from House & Garden, November 1958)
Friday, November 19, 2010
A Holiday Throw Back
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This is a fun post. I'm all for reviving aspic, which is much-maligned with, I suspect, little basis for doing so, since I doubt there's a person under the age of 55 who remembers ever seeing (much less tasting) it. And yes, please, can we either get a break from the disgustingly-named "sliders" and "shooters" that one comes across everywhere these days? I much prefer your idea of referring to the former as a mini-hamburger, which I shall do so exclusively henceforth. Perhaps uncovering past seasonal entertaining tips might be a recurring series for you during the upcoming (oh dear) "holiday" season? You do it so well. Reggie
ReplyDeleteIt 'tis a blast from the past .....a very endearing menu
ReplyDeletesomehow...looks like at least two tables (maybe three) are set so all can sit down....very considerate and so much easier for eating even if you are serving yourself.
I once had the great pleasure of meeting the charming and talented Mr Amster. Among supporting many other causes, he was a patron of The Isabel O'Neil Studio, a school for painted finishes.
ReplyDeleteIt was always said that James Amster's taste was beyond reproach, but Galantine of Duck AND Paté Maison on the same plate? I don't think so! Though
ReplyDeleteI must admit that I wouldn't mind stumbling across a
galantine on a buffet table. Whether it would be fathomed by the sushi crowd is another matter!
Agree with Reggie - totally fun. I am not only sick of the name "sliders" but the actuality of them - I am not interested in a hamburger at an elegant gathering. Not a big fan of aspic but galantine of duck and paupiettes de veau sound pretty darn appealing!
ReplyDeleteAnd another great post!
ReplyDeleteTruly German cooking is full of aspic-recipes until today, from this that and the other "in Aspik" to the more earthy Sülze. The latter is either very good or unswallowable, and IF it is good it's, together with fried potatoes German style, a real treat.
English cooking is probably the most unfairly maligned thing ever. I have a small collection of English cookbooks and recipes, among them one for game terrine to die for.
Great post althogether. Thanks again!
Those black lampshades would have pulled me in, too--they're all I have at my place--but I don't remember ever seeing those other shots of Amster's apartment. I need to get that issue.
ReplyDeleteWhen I was in college in the mid-1970s, I waited table at a big-deal hotel dining room in Peoria, Illinois which, thanks to an anomaly in the space/time continuum, remained stuck in the 1950s, meaning that high-style "Continental Dining" was still popular there long after it had disappeared from the larger culture. That was the appeal of the Peoria Room: it was a time warp. In fact, the highlights of my career as a waiter were serving two actors who had become Hollywood stars forty years before: Gail Patrick (who, as Gail Patrick Jackson Velde, was married to a local businessman & who was as glamorous at 65 as she had been at 25 in My Man Godfrey, and Cary Grant, as handsome & charming as ever, who I watched through a dense screen of potted palms.
The Peoria Room's menu was loaded with just the kind of food in those H&G pictures. We always had a whole salmon with cucumber-slice scales glazed in pink aspic on the cold buffet. We had foie gras in the form of inch-square club sandwiches arranged in a checkerboard on a circular pool of claret-colored Cumberland Gelee. Most amusing of all, our list of Soups & Appetizers started off with a bowl of Consomme en Gelee, whose low price often ensnared the inexperienced young couples who, every spring, came for a fancy dinner before the Prom.
When the kids we liked--the ones who openly acknowledged they had never been to a fancy restaurant before--tried to order the Consomme, we suggested that they order the more expensive Shrimp Cocktail instead, since its higher price was offset by the fact that it was big enough for them to share, which is always a romantic touch--especially if you're only seventeen. On the other hand, the silly poseurs who, to impress their dates, acted as though (and sometimes told us outright, us who certainly knew better that they'd never set foot in the place before) that they were regular customers, well, those guys we allowed to order Consomme en Gelee without a quiver on our part. We left that to the Consomme. The only thing funnier than the look on the poseurs' faces when I presented them with a gold-rimmed bowl of jiggly brown goo was the look on their faces later, when I lifted the silver dome off my serving platter to reveal our lowest-priced entree, a parsley-nestled Pan-Fried Trout, complete with head & fins. If only they had asked for a suggestion, we would have been happy to help, but for the hard cases, it was Don't Ask, Don't tell. Live & learn.
Oh, Prom Night, we looked forward to you every year, and the lack of tips from hoity-toity frauds was always more than balanced out by hefty tips from the grateful kids whom we guided safely through the hidden dangers of their first experience with Fine Dining.
These days, my own specialty of the house is toast, but I'm totally ready for an Aspic Revival. Somebody on another blog--I can't remember whose it was, now--showed how to prepare Chicken Harlequin, its striking black-&-white diamond pattern made of Peau d' Aubergine. At least, that's how the Peoria Room's menu would have described it. The thing was an absolute knockout. Anyway, thanks for the great post. I think I'll try some experiments this weekend.
Those black lampshades would have pulled me in, too--they're all I have at my place--but I don't remember ever seeing those other shots of Amster's apartment. I need to get that issue.
ReplyDeleteWhen I was in college in the mid-1970s, I waited table at a big-deal hotel dining room in Peoria, Illinois which, thanks to an anomaly in the space/time continuum, remained stuck in the 1950s, meaning that high-style "Continental Dining" was still popular there long after it had disappeared from the larger culture. That was the appeal of the Peoria Room: it was a time warp, which was reflected in the fact that the highlights of my career as a waiter were serving two actors who had become Hollywood stars forty years before: Gail Patrick (who, as Gail Patrick Jackson Velde, was married to a local businessman & who was every bit as glamorous at 65 as she had been at 25 in My Man Godfrey, and Cary Grant, as handsome & charming as ever, who I watched through a dense screen of potted palms.
The Peoria Room's menu was loaded with just the kind of food in those H&G pictures. We always had a whole salmon with cucumber-slice scales glazed in pink aspic on the cold buffet. We had foie gras in the form of inch-square club sandwiches arranged in a checkerboard on a circular pool of claret-colored Cumberland Gelee. Most amusing of all, our list of Soups & Appetizers started off with a bowl of Consomme en Gelee, whose low price often ensnared callow young couples who, every spring, came for a fancy dinner before the Prom.
When the kids we liked--the ones who openly acknowledged they had never been to a fancy restaurant before & asked for recommendations--would try to order the Consomme, we suggested that they order the more expensive Shrimp Cocktail instead, since its higher price was offset by the fact that it was big enough for the two of them to share, which is always a romantic touch--especially if you're only seventeen. On the other hand, the silly poseurs who, to impress their dates, acted as though (and sometimes told us outright, us who certainly knew better that they'd never set foot in the place before) that they were regular customers, well, for those guys, it was Don't Ask, Don't Tell, and we let them order Consomme en Gelee without a quiver on our part. We left that to the Consomme, and the only thing funnier than the look on the poeurs' faces when I presented them with a gold-rimmed bowl of jiggly brown goo was the look on their faces later on, when I lifted the silver dome off my serving platter to reveal our lowest-priced entree, a parsley-nestled Pan-Fried Trout, complete with head & fins.
Oh, Prom Night, we looked forward to you every year, and the lack of tips from hoity-toity frauds was always more than balanced out by hefty tips from the grateful kids whom we guided with success through the hidden dangers of Fine Dining.
These days, my own specialty of the house is toast, but I'm totally ready for an Aspic Revival. Somebody on another blog--I can't remember whose it was, now--showed how to prepare Chicken Harlequin, its striking black-&-white diamond pattern made of Peau d' Aubergine. At least, that's how the Peoria Room's menu would have described it. The thing was an absolute knockout. Anyway, thanks for the great post. I think I'll try some experiments this weekend.
I absolutely love tomato aspic. My friend Mattie makes small versions that sit atop a layer of herbed cream cheese. Delicious!
ReplyDeleteMagnaverde- Gail Patrick is one of my favorite actresses of that era. She was prettier than any of the rest of them. BTW, she hailed from Birmingham, AL...a Southern girl!
ReplyDeleteNow that I've sufficiently recovered from the hysterics
ReplyDeleteprompted by Volume XVI of Magnaverde's memoirs. I
can admit a longing for Ouefs en Gelée as served in
a charming, unpretentious New York restaurant called
Le Veau D'Or. Heavenly dish of poached egg suspended
in tarragon infused aspic~there was a thin slice of ham
beneath the egg. Not an easy dish to get right, and it's
unlikely that it will ever be attempted again in my own
kitchen...
Magnaverde, that was quite brilliant. And Toby Worthington you had me in stitches! Most amusing, indeed.
ReplyDelete