Downton Abbey's Charlotte Russe Offers a Lesson in Compassion

While watching the fifth episode of Downton Abbey, Season 3, many of the show’s observant viewers noted that when the American Isobel Crawley hosted a thoughtful luncheon after the death of Lady Sybil, Ethel Parks, the disgraced housemaid, served a final course entitled a “Charlotte Russe”.

No dessert could have been more appropriate, especially after Lord Robert Crawley burst in, shocked that his family was being served by the former prostitute.  Christian charity was one thing, but in his eyes, the family’s reputation was quite another matter.

Yet, perhaps his mother, Violet Crawley, the Dowager Countess of Grantham, knew quite a bit more about both life and culinary history when she remarked dryly on seeing the Charlotte Russe, “It seems a pity to miss such a good pudding.”

For you see, the Charlotte Russe is one of those grand dishes that comes with an equally grand pedigree. Its creator was the legendary French Chef Marie Antonie Careme, who history remembers as “the King of Chefs, and the Chef of Kings”.

High praise that, and yet, it is totally true. He not only cooked for the leading powers of his day (Talleyrand, Napoleon, George IV and the Czar of Russia), he defined the toque as the classic chef’s hat, clarified the four “Mother Sauces” and established “service a la russe” as the accepted form of table service in polite society.

It was while he was working for the shy Czar Alexander I of Russia that he created the Charlotte Russe. “Russe”, of course, refers to Russia. (Can you say, “Make your employer feel important by naming something after his country”?)

But who is Charlotte? Charlotte was the sister-in-law of the Czar and was married to George III of England. (Yes, ‘that’ George of ‘Lost the American Colonies’ fame). After the fall of Napoleon, for whom he had worked earlier, Careme had been employed by King George’s son, the Prince of Wales (and future George IV).

While serving the English Prince, he had observed and had come to admire the quiet nobility of this former princess from the tiny German state of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, who managed both a mentally unstable royal husband and a family of 15 overly ambitious children(!) 

At the same time she also mentored the careers of Bach and Mozart and supported scientific discovery in the field of botany. The world famous Royal Kew Gardens exist today because of her keen support and insightful interest.

But her contributions do not stop there. Truly a woman ahead of her times, she founded orphanages and hospitals for expectant mothers. She supported education for women, especially for women “to whom life had not been kind”.

So you can see why Careme named a dish after this remarkable Queen, for he had seen enough of life himself to understand its many hardships and the need for rulers to address them.

Whether it was intentional or not, Julian Fellowes, the author of Downton Abbey, could not have picked a better dessert for the 'fallen’ housemaid, Ethel Parks, to serve. She was exactly the kind of women Queen Charlotte had sought to lift up and support. Even the other Downton ladies joined Isobel in her defense. Or as the grand Lady Violet note, neither a pudding (nor a life) are, should be foolishly wasted.

We can be thankful then that the esteemed Careme, in the cold snows of Russia, showed more awareness and compassion to the twists and turns of life by naming a dessert after this courageous Queen than did Lord Robert with his hot tempered moral lecture at the luncheon table.

Equally, the twist and turns of culinary history should often serve to remind us all within the Industry how even the simplest of actions, a kind word – a thoughtful gesture, can enrich lives beyond our knowing. And that, perhaps, is something to always remember, whether we serve upstairs or down.

Your Culinary World copyright Ana Kinkaid/Peter Schlagel 2013

How to Save Downton Abbey Hollandaise Sauce Then AND Now

The culinary accurateness of the Downton Abbey Series should delight all professionals in the hospitality industry.

From soufflés to silver service, it is more than obvious that great research has gone into every aspect of the script where food is concerned.

But Downton's writers go even further. They show what can go amiss in the kitchen as well as what works. For example, sauces. Sauces are the wonder of cuisine. There are five major ones, entitled "the Mother Sauces", each with seemingly endless variations on their major taste themes. 

One such sauce is Hollandaise, an emulsified sauce in which egg yolks not only serve as the emulsifier, but also as a thickening agent. The final viscosity or thickness of the sauce is determined by how much fat is emulsified in and to what degree the egg yolks are cooked. 

The more the egg yolks are cooked, the thicker the hollandaise will be. However, the more the egg yolks are cooked, the more chance that the final result will be scrambled eggs, not a glorious hollandaise sauce. It's a delicate balance.

And that's just what happened to Ivy, the perky new kitchen maid, in the Dowwnton Abbey kitchen right before a grand meal. Even Daisy, the more experienced assistant cook, panicked when she saw the curdled sauce.

It's Alfred, the very new and very tall footman, who comes to the rescue. Prior to serving at Downton, he had worked as a hotel waiter, where he had caught glimpses of how master chefs save a separated or "broken" sauce.

He quickly strained out the curdle portion of the sauce and whisked one egg yolk and 1 tablespoon of water to the remaining sauce, still keeping it warm during the process. His fast reaction would please any chef and mark this young man as someone to promote. (Is Mrs. Patmore, Downton's cook, observing his flare, leading possibly to future plot developments?) 

A hundred years ago, chefs used double copper pots to make hollandaise sauce. Ouch - that's expensive and a royal pain to keep clean and polished. Today's chef has the advantage of improved cookware, such as Rose Bake and Oven Ware. 

Developed by Rose Levy Beranbau, author of the James Beard's acclaimed The Cake Bible and known as someone with a very sharp eye for technique to a diva level, her Rose Caramel Pot with double pouring spouts is a marvel for sauces sweet or savory.

Additionally, for those sauces requiring the use of a lift KitchenAid Mixer, no busy chef who cares about easy and elegance should be without the Rose BeaterBlade.

Its patented "Wind" design scraps the sides and bottom of the mixing bowl with every turn. When detached, it even doubles as a spatula.  

Alfred saved the day in Downton's Edwardian kitchen with his knowledge of the new and useful. If he lived today, he's surely reach for Rose's outstanding cookware and save the day once again. Tools and technique have always matter and they always will.

 Your Culinary World copyright Ana Kinkaid/Peter Schlagel 2013

Will the Dishes of Downton Abbey Soon Include Those of Liverpool?

Viewers worldwide gasped when the plot of Downton Abbey took a tragic turn and the kind Lady Sybil suddenly died in childbirth. Left behind is her Irish husband, Tom Branson, the former chauffeur to Sybil's father, Robert, the Earl of Grantham and a small baby girl.

To say the least, Branson's character is that of man caught in the contradictions of the changing age. He longs to be free of the constraints imposed by British policies yet he is, by his very struggle against it, part of that tradition - so much so he secretly loves and marries the young Sybil, whose own family represents the very heritage he rebells against.   

On her death, he is lost, adrift in an elite family foreign in its tradition to all he knows and values. He is Catholic; they are members of the Church of England. He has worked his whole life; their wealth has protected them from the daily grind of labor. He has been their servant; they expect to be served.

The only bridge between these two vastly different worlds is one small baby.

Yet Tom, supported by the younger members of the Crawley family, desires to leave the Abbey and rebuild his life as an auto mechanic in Liverpool with his daughter by his side. Time (and future episodes) will reveal if he is successful.

But if he does go to Liverpool, he will find a world stunningly different from the green meadows and quiet forests of Downton. It was (and is) an industrial port city full of sound and motion, commerce and change. 

Even the regional dishes enjoyed there tell of a practical people grounded in a hardened reality so different from the genteel estate atmosphere of Downton.

Perhaps the most outstanding example of this is scouse, a hardy stew. Made from either lamb or beef, it was first brought to Liverpool's tavern by sailors fond of their ship's food. 

The stew became so popular its name has come to proudly represent all those born in Liverpool down to today. At football (soccer) and rugby matches, t-shirts are worn in abundance declaring "Scouse & Proud" while others wave signs that read "Keep Calm, Life Is Never Perfect but Being Scouse Is Close Enough".

One can only wonder if little Sybil, who was named after her deceased mother, will develop such a strong personality if she does go to Liverpool to live with her father? Should make a great story turn, no?  

Your Culinary World copyright Ana Kinkaid/Peter Schlagel 2013

Why the San Francisco 49ers Favorite Super Bowl Food Should Be Bourdin Sourdough Bread

There are certain culinary classics that have stood the test of time secure in a city that appreciates fine food. San Francisco is one such city and the legendary food they cherish is their very own and very unique sourdough bread.

This flavorful bread began in 1849 (the same 'golden' year the 49ers Football Team is named after) when Isidore Boudin, a hopeful immigrant arrived in San Francisco from Burgundy. He was drawn to California from his native France by the recent discovery of massive deposits of gold in the region's streams and mountains.

But Boudin had no desire to dig in the dirt. As a skilled baker, he intended to make his fortune baking bread for the hungry miners, yet he started with little beyond but his own knowledge of classic French baking techniques and a precious bag of flour.

Very quickly he noticed a unique tangy taste had developing in his bread. As a professional, he was able to dentify its source and knew that he had found his treasure - a natural occurring yeast. And not just an common yeast, but one unique to San Francisco. 

Scientists would later honor its rarity by naming this terrior bacterium "Lactobacillius Sanfrancisensis". Once incorporated within flour, it naturally causes the dough to raise. By always preserving a small starter portion of the dough, the bacterium will continually act as a levying ageny for future loaves. 

Boudin worked hard and soon his horse-drawn delivery wagons were delivering his signature loaves to elite Nob Hill homes and elegant downtown hotels. Sadly his long days (and perhaps one or two too many pastries) caught up with him and he died in 1887.

But he had not labored alone. His wife, Louise, and his beloved daughter, Lucie, knew the bakery as well as he and on his death continued producing the bread he loved. Year by year the bakery's client list (and its bank account) grew.

Then in 1906, disaster struck as a massive earthquake shattered San Francisco's calm. And although the earthquake was very bad, the resulting fire was worst. Soon huge sections of the City were on fire - including area where the Boudin Bakery was located.

Louise had lost her husband; she had no intension of loosing her bakery as well. Dodging falling bricks and flaming timbers she worked her way to the remains of her baking kitchen and found the original dough starter begun by her husband.

She scooped it into a bucket and carried it out to safety. Referred to thereafter as the "mother dough", it continued to raise dough (pardon the pun there) for the Boudin family at their rebuilt bakery from 1910 to the late 1930's.

Yet by the end of the 1930's the Great Depression had taken its toll. San Francisco's grand families no longer entertained lavishly and many of the major hotels had closed their namesake restaurants. Even the demand for a truly great bread had dropped dramatically as families and corporates watched every penny.

Enter Steve Giraudo, Boudin's Master Baker. An Italian by birth, he was as devoted to fine bread as Louise and Isidore Boudin had been. He bought both the bakery and the mother dough starter. Once again San Francisco had her beloved bread (and so did the many sailors and soliders passing through San Francisco during World War II).

This increased exposure broadened the fame of Boudin Sourdough French Bread so that in 1975, Steven's son, Lou Giraudo, opened their first public demonstration bakery and cafe on Fisherman's Wharf to the delight of thousands of visiting tourists. Today there are eight additional cafe locations in the San Francisco area and seven more throughout the State. 

Not bad for a firm that was started by a Frenchman with a bag of flour. So you can see why the 49ers Football Team should (and do) love this bread. Like them, it has survived hard times and 'risen' to the acclaim of all. And now they are on their way to New Orleans, a city with such a strong French heritage Boudin himself would have loved it. 

Maybe the fact that New Orleans's Super Dome looks a bit like a rounded load of sourdough bread will bring them great good luck! 

Your Culinary World copyright Ana Kinkaid/Peter Schlagel 2013

Celebrate Both the Super Bowl and Mardi Gras with Three Great New Orleans Cocktails

It's rare that one American city is called upon to play host to two major events almost simultaneously. Yet that is what is happening in la belle New Orleans this week where happy Mardi Gras party goers will mix with hopeful Super Bowl ticket holders.

But have no fear - New Orleans is more than up to the task at hand. Her fine hotels, outstanding restaurants, famous streets and multicultural cuisine can easily welcome them all, especially when the many visitors have a chance to taste one of the City's famous cocktails. 

THE SAZERAC COCKTAIL - This honored cocktail is the very first recorded American cocktail to be created and is credited to Antoine Amadie Peychaud, a Creole apothecary before the dark days of the Civil War.

He crafted the cocktail from a mixture of cognac or rye whiskey, absinthe or Herbsaint and Peychaud's Bitters. 

According to culinary legend he served his new drink in the large end of an egg cup which was called a coquetier in French. The americanization of word conversed the French word into the word "cocktail" and so gave a name to a whole catagory of over 125,000 drinks! 

THE HURRICANE COCKTAIL - Was there ever a cocktail with such a perfect name? This drink can steady the nerves of anyone facing a frightening future whether from high waters or the horrors of war. For you see, this cocktail was created by Pat O'Brien during the early days of World War II.

Faced with both an excess of lower grade rum forced on him by distributors and also many nervous service men, he blended his unwanted rum, fruit juice and grenadine together and happily served his creation in an available bowed glass that mimiced the shape of a Victorian wind-resisent oil lamp. 

The name of the lamp transferred to the cocktail and is now the official drink of New Orleans' French Quarter. Today it often served in a plastic cup since the City premits enjoying a cocktail in public but only in a non-breakable despoitable plastic container. Safety first please!

BRANDY MILK PUNCH - Don't be fooled. This is not exactly your mother's good-night glass of milk. Instead, it is a favorite for one of New Orleans' grand tradition: Sunday Brunch. After church, friends and family could (and still do) meet at one of the City's classic restaurants such as Cafe Adelaide or Brennan's to discuss the week's events.

Brimming cups of brandy, milk, cream and nutmeg mixed together were and still are perfect to calm a troubled stomach from the night before or ideal to match the rich foods in the Sunday feast before them. Ah, New Orleans, she always has an answer for every question. 

What a grand city!