Cooking for Kings: Antonin Careme by Ian Kelly

[Cusina]

Cooking for Kings: The Life of Antonin Careme the First Celebrity Chef

A Biography with Recipes by Ian Kelly

Walker Publishing Company, 2004

Ian Kelly put a tremendous amount of research into documenting this piece of history. He provides a glimpse into European noble lifestyle like no other I’ve read before, a look at the kitchen of premier chef Antonin Careme. Careme’s career began inauspiciously at the age of 10 when he was abandoned by his father in the city of Paris. He was one of at least 25 children in his poor family and he must have seemed likely to be able to make his own way. Fortunately, he was taken in by a pastry chef and put to work in the kitchen. He stayed there and grew to excellence and wide acclaim, until his death at 45 in 1829. In those days most cooks met an early end from the almost constant exposure to charcoal fumes. The years in-between are a story of great interest. He worked throughout Europe for a variety of wealthy aristocrats including Napoleon, George Prince of Wales (England’s infamous Prince Regent) and Russian Tsar Alexander I, and manages, in a time of almost constant political upheaval, to cross those borders and remain alive and even in great demand as a chef. The differences in these households and their traditions of meal service influence Careme quite a bit throughout his career. Kelly explains these kitchen situations well and the details make for very interesting reading.

It is fascinating that the new regimes wanted similar entertaining options. One would think that the kind of gluttony Careme represented (indeed, several of his employers died from the side effects of severe obeseity) would be exactly what the political rebellions, especially the French Revolution, would attempt to disenfranchise. However, the greed carried on, each new regime desired Careme’s service to impress their importance upon the rest of the world. Careme’s career consisted, most memorably, of extravagant banquets, some of them purely for show. The tables were elaborately set for 8 to 10,000 diners sometimes with hundreds of courses. It is hard to imagine the amount of labor and resources necessary to organize such a feast, especially in the days before refrigeration. The centerpieces of his life were his extraordinaires, sugar fantasies. Tremendous, creative desserts done in the form of giant temples or towering topiaries meant to impress rather than taste good. Careme had a passion for architecture as well as food and this is apparent in his dessert creations. Ironically, the French revolution, which was inflamed by Marie Antoinette’s famous quote “let them eat cake”, was obviously followed by the new regime eating a whole lot of Careme’s cakes.

“A Venetian Gondola

(An Italian-themed extraordinaire)

The Venetian Gondola is made of confectioner’s paste masked with sky-blue sugar icing. It is placed on a convex pedestal, four inches high in the centre and two round the outside, covered with white spun sugar so as to imitate the waves of the sea. The pavilion is composed of eight columns masked with rose-coloured sugar icing, the draperies are of sky-blue confectioner’s paste and yellow spun sugar. The cupola, the sail and the small pendant are of spun sugar; the mast is masked in the same way as the gondola, and the tackle is formed with white spun sugar. The whole is encircled with a border of middle-sized meringues with coarse sugar and filled with cream. The gondola, too, may be filled with meringues, large truffles boiled in champagne or with small casks of almond paste filled with preserves.

Antonin Careme, Le Patissier royal parisien (1815)” - Cooking for Kings pg. 87

Fortunately, Careme published several large books to document his work. There are many beautiful illustrations in the text drawn by Careme himself. The source material for Cooking for Kings is rich and plentiful. However, it is restricted to Careme’s professional life. Mr. Kelly attempts to fill in the blanks as best he can and provide a picture of Careme’s personal life and that of some of his employers as well. This is what makes the book truly interesting, the weaving of those stories together. The gossip, even two centuries later, is still juicy. Of particular interest to me were the writings of some of his diners. They were the social elite of the time, some of them journalists, most of them women.

Selecting a recipe to prepare from this work was a bit difficult. Most require ingredients that are considered obscure by today’s standards, things like chestnuts, cocks combs (and testicles!) and partridges. Other recipes sounded far too fussy and labor intensive, like a tower of glazed peach halves or apple meringue as a hedgehog. Or they just plain didn’t appeal. Cream of pigeons, for example, just wouldn’t go over well with my kids and his cheese flan sounded awfully bland by modern tastes. I settled on Le Bar Grille a L’Italien. Grilled sea bass in an Italian champagne sauce. Unfortunately, I had to settle further as there was no sea bass at the market. Mahi Mahi was the substitute. The sauce takes a simple Allemande and adds to it, so I was able to try that sauce recipe as well.

It was an interesting exercise to decode his recipe into modern terms. The ingredients were given in rough measures to give you an idea of ratio rather than specific amounts: 2 glasses of champagne, a dash of salt, a pinch of allspice, a knob of butter.

The Allemande that I’m familiar with is usually stock based and quite rich. This was just a velouette with water, a beaten egg and a few drops of wine vinegar. It was very watery and bland. Careme’s instructions are less than complete. He doesn’t instruct you to allow the sauce to develop over low heat. His assumption must have been that only experienced cooks would attempt his recipes. They certainly are not laid out in the kind of exacting detail for the layperson that you see today. Allow to reduce, for example, doesn’t include by half or to ¼ cup. It is merely stated allow to reduce and the cook must decide for himself what heat, how long and what the texture of the final sauce should be.

The champagne was simmered with chopped mushrooms (two spoonfuls), a sprig each of thyme and rosemary, a pinch of allspice and salt, a shallot and a clove of garlic. Careme specifies rocambole garlic, which, I discovered, is a purple streaked very pungent variety. I didn’t use it as it isn’t available in the grocery here. He does not specify to chop the shallot and garlic, so I left them whole. The champagne was reduced by half and the herbs removed. Two glasses of Allemande added and the whole mixture reduced yet again. A “knob” of butter and lemon juice were added just before serving. The final sauce was quite rich with a delicate flavor. Quite complex. It was good over the fish, but especially tasty over the saffron couscous I made for the side.

I enjoyed piecing together this recipe. Cooking is a surprisingly effective way to connect with history. I could imagine how different the process would be over a wood fire, if I had churned the butter myself and picked the egg out from under the chicken that morning. Careme’s cooking was luxurious for it’s time because of the tremendous amount of cumulative labor required to produce such dishes. Things we take for granted on a daily basis today, like a cool room in August in which to make pastry cream, required a lot effort in 1825.

Mr. Kelly has done an excellent job portraying the life of this Chef and the world he lived in. The writing is clear and the illustrations are excellent. This is definitely a book worth checking out.

[bloviatrix]

I think it's a good thing that Balmagowry has been lying low for awhile. You might want to see her thoughts about Kelly.

http://forums.egullet.org/index.php?showto...oking+for+kings

and

here (not just this post, continue reading the thread)

[Cusina]

hmmm... most interesting.

Thanks Blovatrix for posting those links. I missed that discussion the first time around.

I wonder if blamagory ever completed that review? I'd be most interested to hear her point of view. What exactly does she feel has lied about? I guess you can't believe everything you read.

I hate to feel that this invalidates the book completely.