We are now at liberty to consider the releve. Strictly
speaking, this word cannot be translated " joint." It should
properly be interpreted the " remove," and in the French
meniL the dish of which it is composed is regarded as the
piece de resistance of the dinner. To begin with, it ought,
if possible, not to be roasted. According to the authorities
I have named, it should rather be an artistic braise,
fricandeau, or a whole fillet, larded and served with vege-
tables. Thus, the releve becomes very nearly as elaborate
as a made-dish, and is scarcely what an Englishman means
when he speaks of the " joint."
8 CULINARY JOTTINGS FOR MADRAS,
It need scarcely be said, then, that if this system be fol-
lowed in its entii'ety, the rot and the releve being carefully
selected, the service of two light entrees between them is
both intelligible and artistic.
In favour of the older English custom it has been argued,
with considerable justice, that delicate works of culinary
science — such as entrees are supposed to be — should be pre-
sented while the palate is yet fresh, and while the diner is
thoroughly able to detect and appreciate the niceties of
flavour, crispness, tenderness, and so forth ; that a slice of
plainly roasted or boiled meat, with a selected vegetable,
should follow ; then a morsel of game, and the entremets.
Advocates of this very excellent method, it will be observ-
ed, do not pay any particular attention to the rot. When
game is out of season, they present a savory entremets
immediately after their releve, and send round their salad
with the saddle or sirloin. Thus, in the space marked in
the printed menu for " rots,'' we occasionally see " aspic de
foie gras" w^th " asperges en branches" and no rot whatever.
Of the two systems the older one is certainly the simpler.
The correct introduction of the rot is really the novel feature
of the new menu — ^^ poulet au cresson, salade,'' for example,
never figured in the old bill of fare in the place of game —
and by its introduction the releve, altered a good deal in
character, is of necessity pushed out of its original place.
It will always be conceded, I think, by partisans of both
systems, that each possesses merits of an undeniable
character. The old method, as we have seen, is the simpler,
and consequently the easier of the two, while the new may
be voted more truly artistic. In adopting the latter, how-
ever, it is a sine qua nan that all the principles of the
dinner be observed, and faithfully carried out. We cannot
miss a single point, or our little feast will become & fiasco.
THE MENU.
We must not serve, that is to saj, ^^ pintade au cresson' as
a releve, or '■'■ jamhon au madere' as a rot — trifling errors
that I have noticed at certain banquets modelled according
to the new regime. Neither can we forget the salad, which,
with its plain dressing of oil and vinegar (not a thick eggy
one, I beg) should accompany the rot as a matter of course.
Page 5
Presented as published in 1885. Historical recipes may not meet modern food-safety standards. Cook from the modern interpretation, not the original instructions.
AI-modernized reading of the original text
We are now at liberty to consider the releve. Strictly speaking, this word cannot be translated " joint." It should properly be interpreted the " remove," and in the French meniL the dish of which it is composed is regarded as the piece de resistance of the dinner. To begin with, it ought, if possible, not to be roasted. According to the authorities I have named, it should rather be an artistic braise, fricandeau, or a whole fillet, larded and served with vegetables. Thus, the releve becomes very nearly as elaborate as a made-dish, and is scarcely what an Englishman means when he speaks of the " joint."
It need scarcely be said, then, that if this system be followed in its entirety, the rot and the releve being carefully selected, the service of two light entrees between them is both intelligible and artistic.
In favour of the older English custom it has been argued, with considerable justice, that delicate works of culinary science — such as entrees are supposed to be — should be presented while the palate is yet fresh, and while the diner is thoroughly able to detect and appreciate the niceties of flavour, crispness, tenderness, and so forth ; that a slice of plainly roasted or boiled meat, with a selected vegetable, should follow ; then a morsel of game, and the entremets. Advocates of this very excellent method, it will be observed, do not pay any particular attention to the rot. When game is out of season, they present a savory entremets immediately after their releve, and send round their salad with the saddle or sirloin. Thus, in the space marked in the printed menu for "rots," we occasionally see "aspic de foie gras" with "asperges en branches" and no rot whatever.
Of the two systems the older one is certainly the simpler. The correct introduction of the rot is really the novel feature of the new menu — "poulet au cresson, salade," for example, never figured in the old bill of fare in the place of game — and by its introduction the releve, altered a good deal in character, is of necessity pushed out of its original place.
It will always be conceded, I think, by partisans of both systems, that each possesses merits of an undeniable character. The old method, as we have seen, is the simpler, and consequently the easier of the two, while the new may be voted more truly artistic. In adopting the latter, however, it is a sine qua non that all the principles of the dinner be observed, and faithfully carried out. We cannot miss a single point, or our little feast will become a fiasco.
THE MENU.
We must not serve, that is to say, "pintade au cresson" as a releve, or "jambon au madere" as a rot — trifling errors that I have noticed at certain banquets modelled according to the new regime. Neither can we forget the salad, which, with its plain dressing of oil and vinegar (not a thick eggy one, I beg) should accompany the rot as a matter of course.