Can Simon Schama cook?

In this month’s (that is February’s) Vogue, that wonderful polymath Simon Schama shares his views on, and recipes for, stews. In the course of this article, “Simmer of love”, he has some harsh words for the culinary knowledge of Virginia Woolf.

His particular target is the meal cooked by Mrs Ramsay in To the Lighthouse, a tremendous pot of boeuf en daube. Just one ladleful of the stuff is enough to turn awkward company into human beings, joined in “tender communion’. Mrs Ramsay is delighted at the success of this French recipe and swoons over the lovely “confusion of savoury yellow and brown meats.”

Hang on, say Schama. What are these yellow meats in a boeuf en daube? “A chicken foot lurking in there along with the beef and onions, is there?”

And it gets worse. Mrs Ramsay had been extremely worried by the timing. “Everything,” writes Woolf, “depended on being served up to the precise moment they were ready.” Hang on again, says Schama. You can’t ruin a daube by the timing. “Stews are the most forgiving dishes.”

Mrs Woolf doesn’t know what she’s talking about in the culinary department, he concludes. She was, after all, rather “bony”.

I am afraid that it is the far from bony Prof Schama who doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

Conversation at high-table at Newnham, where Woolf once had a memorably awful lunch (described in A Room of One's Own) exposed his mistakes. The Senior Tutor, whose specialist subjects include the novels of V Woolf, cordon bleu cookery and psychology, instantly spotted that Schama hadn’t been reading his Mastering the Art of French Cooking carefully enough.

That classic cook book (by Simone Beck, Louisette Bertholle and Julia Child) details exactly the recipe that Mrs Ramsay must have cooked (p.333 in the edition I’ve been using). It’s a well-known but particularly luxurious pot au feu, which “always makes a great hit with guests”. It looks “for all the world like a plain pot au feu”. But actually it includes not only beef, but pork, sausages and even a whole chicken. So, yes, a chicken foot was lurking there among the beef and onions.

And the timing’s a very tricky thing too. With all those different meats, you have to be careful that they each get the cooking time they need. In fact Mastering the Art suggests that you tie a string onto each piece of meat so you can pull them out separately to see how they’re doing. This stew is not a “forgiving dish” at all.

So full marks to the bony Mrs Woolf. And nuls points, for once, to Prof Schama.

Comments

[SW Foska]

Thanks for the recipes, Tony, and sorry not to have got back to you sooner. I must confess to a slight problem in that I rarely eat pasta any more, I think I have some minor variant of those carbohydrate allergies. Still, the elements of your recipe can be adapted to rice, lentil, aubergine and also general meat and vegetable dishes.
A couple of comments: the instructions for bescialmella are somewhat cursory: others recommend more work on the roux, as well as a clove-and-onion flavouring, although admittedly if you are using onion and bay leaf in the lasagna layering you could skip this in the white sauce. And is the Italian variant substantively different from the classic French one, or does this just reflect your source?
This might come in handy for you if you boil pasta regularly: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Zevro-Perfetto-Pasta-Cooker-Black/dp/B000LFEE4C/ref=pd_bbs_1?ie=UTF8&s=kitchen&qid=1207942493&sr=1-1. But others say any tupperware will perform the same task & no need for a special gadget.
Two years ago I bought a cookbook on the recommendation of the TLS's Bee Wilson: "The new english kitchen" by Rose Prince. Liking this, I followed the same recommender's counsel this Xmas, but I can't say I'm learning much from Diana Henry's "Cook Simple". She just seems to get by chopping everything roughly and heaping on spoon after spoon of olive oil.

[Tony Francis]

As I promised Foska some weeks ago: here are two of my favorite recipes from the Italian-American cookbook I found in a junk store.
Onion Lasagna from a restaurant in Providence, RI. Make a bescialmella (northern Italian for bechamel) combining 3 tablesppons butter, 3 tablespoons white flour, 1 bay leaf, 1 2/3 cup whole milk, 1/2 teaspoon salt in a sauce pan and bring to a boil for two minutes. Thin cut 8 large onions of your choice (2 pounds) and one leek. Sautee in 7 tablesppons of butter until lightly brown (about 25 minutes). Boil the lasagna strips until they are soft - drain. Place a layer of lasagna in the baking dish over a few tablespoons of the besciamella. Put half the onions on this, more besciamella, then another layer of lasagna, the rest of the onions and a final layer of lasagna. Sprinkle ground Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese over each of the layers. Sprinkle butter and cheese on top. Bake at 400 (F) for 20 minutes. I have modified this by leaving the leek out (these always have sand in them), and making more bechamel (this is really a white sauce, the way they describe it). The onions don't have to be fried. The lasagna doesn't have to be pre-cooked. The dish can be baked for about 1-2 hours at about 250- 300(F) and is better than the recipe. The onions cook out a lot of water. Add water or milk if it goes dry. Process or other cheese can be added to the bechamel which would make it an Alfredo sauce, but purists will call it a Mornay or veloute sauce. This is a big hit every time I serve it.
The second is called spaghetti aglio e olio. It is from southern Italy and consists of 1 cup olive oil added to 8-10 lightly fried garlic cloves, 1-2 dried sliced chili peppers, added to one pound spaghetti or linguine. Season to taste. I vary this by putting less than a cup of olive oil in a pan, boiling it with ground garlic, 2-3 tablespoons of butter, and leaf basil or pre-mixed Italian seasoning, poured over cooked angel hair. Skip the chili peppers. Serve with a meat dish of choice. A little of this sauce goes a long way, so don't make too much. It is a nice change of pace from the usual tomato sauces. The latter can be prepared with store bought sauces cooked over a slow heat with brown sugar and red wine for several hours. This is a Sicilian-New Orleans method, although they tell me it is done in Philadelphia, also. Of course, various vegetables like zuccini, squash, onions, black olives can be added to the tomato sauce. They call it "tomato gravy" in New Orleans, but tomato gravy has a different meaning elsewhere.

[SW Foska]

dear tony, etymology is a tougher game than it seems and I will simply let time tell whether the Columbia professor more resembles a ritual holy man or a fast food meat takeaway staple. david: 'transatlantic sell-out' is my digest of another's (properly argued) view: the arguer is at the top of his profession and of american origin so can't fairly be accused of either payslip envy or kneejerk yankophobia. foska actually has a lot of time for some of Schama's books, and he writes well on visual culture, ideas of veracity & many subjects. But Rough Crossings a triumph? To me it was cheap histoire-a-clef, neither conceived nor executed well. It was slated in the TLS but I didn't see the review, only the author's grumpy letter contesting a few points.

[Tony Francis]

Dearest Jejune Etymologist: I was thinking the name Schama is similar to "shah mat", the Persian/Arabic for "the king is dead". It is where we get the word "checkmate" in chess. But there is more of a story here. The common explanations are that the Persian "mat" is closely related to the Latin "mort", "to die", or "dead". The Arabic "mat" has a similar meaning. The old Persian "shah" is a contraction of the of "pads/zak" or "pati" for "lord". This is seen in the Turkish "padishah". The Old Persian is "k'ksay'atkiya" deriving from "khsayathi": "might", "power" and "k'ksi" "to rule". All flow from the ancient Persian "k'hs'ha'yath'i'ya" which is found in cuneiform writing. The Sanskrit is "k'shatram" for "dominion". These are allied to "satrap". The Arabic is "shag" meaning "check", and leads to "chess" and "exchequer" (according to one source). The Russian is "shakmaty".
But is the King really dead? Maybe not. The old Persian "mat" does not mean "death", but rather can be "ambush". This is from the Pahlawi and Huzvarish form "malka". "Mat" is Persian, not for death, but "at a loss", "helpless", "defeated". "Mat" is a contracted form of the adjectives "mand", "manad", "manid", from the verb "mandan" or "manidan": "to remain". Literally, "Sh'ah ma'at" does not mean "the king is dead", but rather, "the king is dumbfounded", "the king is stymied". Other translations are "conquered", "subjugated", "reduced to the last resource", "astonished", "amazed", "perplexed". "Mat-ash mi-barad": "he is struck dumb"; "Mat kardan": "to confound"; "shah-nama" "the king is left powerless, broken, paralyzed"; but not dead, apparently. This is seen in the Old French "eschec mat": "the king is left helpless".
So it is possible the trans-Atlantic sell-out's name really means: "the meat sandwich is stymied". It's a thought.

[Tony Francis]

Concerning greasy bacon and long-term cooking: Grandma's Austrian Saurkraut is made by frying bacon in a large pan. In the old days, the women would leave the grease, adding flour to make a roux. Then add canned saurkraut and between 1/2 and 1 cup of brown sugar per pound of saurkraut. Let this cook over a slow heat for at least 12 hours. It is best to put it in the fridge for a day or so, and re-heat over on the stove or microwave before serving. It is great by itself, or on mashed potatoes or on bread as a sandwich (as my mother used to eat it). I pour the grease off after frying the bacon, and skip the roux part. I have served this to the over 80 crowd (Grandma's living children), for several years and they concur it is just like Grandma's. I discovered the younger girls in the family had been searching for this recipe for years. I cooked up an industrial size tub of it for Christmas. Between arguing about everything else, I was informed "This is ok, but it is not as good as Grandma used to make." They sent the remainder home with me (about an ounce). The girls couldn't decide whether it needed fennell, cinnamon, nutmeg, or a lot of other things. One thing: saurkraut varies in sourness, so you have to keep adding brown sugar as it is cooking to get it right. Frank's saurkraut is a lot more sour than Bush's. It should be similar to Chinese sweet and sour sauce, but without the ketchup.

[David Wilson]

Not sure in what sense Schama is a sell out. Can't be because his books are popular or anything, can it? Rough Crossings was a triumph. And Boeuf en Daube is not the same as Pot au Feu, in any cookbook.

[Stuart Brown]

Virginia Woolf writes "Boeuf en daube" and I'm sure that's what she means. Just consider the ingredients she actually mentions: beef, bay leaf, wine, oil, olives. Wine, oil and olives would be bizarre in a pot au feu (which is boiled beef), but perfectly normal in a daube.
As to Mrs Ramsay's worries about the timing, they are, precisely, her worries (and not the author's). We can say that she is being characterized as the Anxious Hostess, concerned that the dinner will be spoilt if people are late, but having only an approximate idea of what's involved - after all, she hasn't prepared it herself, it's the cook Mildred who has "spent three days over it". I've no idea of Virginia Woolf's level of culinary expertise, but it's very naive of Scharma to attribute to the author the thoughts of one of her characters.
I don't have Mastering the Art of French Cooking, but the dish you describe (with beef, pork, sausages and so on) sounds more like a potée, for which there are lots of different versions, though not one I know containing either oil, wine or olives!

[Tony Francis]

Dearest Empiric Jejune Etymologist: the name Schama is most likely the Germanized variant of "shaman" which is an eastern term for priest. The actual German is "Schamane"; Russian "shaman"; Tungus is "s'aman"; Tocharian is "sa-mane". These originate from Prakrit "samana" which takes its origin from Sanskrit "s'ra'ma'nis". The Sanskrit refers to an "ascetic". The name may also be related to "Shamash" who was the sun god of Assyro-Babylonian religion, the author of justice and compassion. This is similar to the Akkadian sun god and closely akin to the Hebrew "shemesh". Less likely is a derivative of "shalom" or a contraction of "shalom aleichem" which is Hebrew for "peace be with you". This also happens to be an Arabic/Muslim greeting, meaning the same thing. (This was taught to me by a person named "praiseworthy prayer leader" -"mahmood peshimam" many years ago.) Another possibility is a variant of a sca'emel, schamel, or skamel which is a medieval English/German meat table or meat display. It forms the modern British usage "shamble" for a meat market. (This is not used in the US.) It comes from the Latin "scamellum", the diminutive of the Latin "scamnum" which is a bench. If Schama could be a meat sandwich, could he be a meat display? Maybe he is really just an ascetic. I saw smidgeons of his "History of Britain" on the History Channel. He seemed to be an ok kind of guy. I never realized he was a trans-Atlantic sell-out. I am alway learning something.

[SW Foska]

Or maybe the 1920s was a period in which people spoke in gastronomic code: 'scrambled eggs' meant 'spanish omelette', 'beef wellington' meant souvlaki, 'fish' meant 'chips' and 'avocado' 'prawns'.
Alternatively, you could launch another gambit: why does the designer-spectacled chronicler assume the 'yellow meat' is chicken? could it not be beef fat or pork belly?

[Paul Potts]

Well, what about Goulash? I have heard of some in Hungary which have been kept on the boil since time immemorial. Before, say, the Second Worl War. The cooks chuck in whatever is left over from the day, including chicken feet (not feathers, though) and the result may be used as is, or as a stock for something more recent. Of course soups do not require delicate cooking, and I suspect that Ms Woolf is making fun of her over-conscientious poseuse - indeed, are we really supposed to take that otherwise?

Paolo

[Katharine Edgar]

Maybe people regularly misused the names of trendy French recipes in the early 20th c, just as these days people casually refer to anything vaguely North African as a 'tagine'.

[anthony.alcock]

The only recipes (German) I've used for this dish recommend "Speck", fatty bacon, as the only other meat. The beef should be marinaded over night.

[Mary]

Not sure I'm entirely with you Michael. I mean, so why didnt Schama just say... silly woman, fancy calling a pot au feu a daube.

Instead he tells her off for being thin and mixing beef and chicken etc.

Hers was a nominal not substantive error.

[Michael Bulley]

To Mary (29 Jan): no, in that case Mrs W's problem was calling it bœuf en daube. In a pot au feu you could have beef and chicken, but in a bœuf en daube you wouldn't expect chicken. That seems to be the situation now and so also when Woolf wrote To the Lighthouse. My emotional prejudices would have liked to have found Schama wrong, but I'd have to say he's got it right on this point. In these things, though, the facts for the future can change. If someone published a cookery book tomorrow that said "Here is my recipe for bœuf en daube: beef, onions, chicken...", then a future novelist could do what Woolf did without fear of criticism, other than for choosing a bad cookery book perhaps. So, could we say a possible defence for Woolf is that, since Mrs Ramsay is a fictional character, we could imagine her living in an imaginary world in which such a cookery book had already been written? Or should novelists always be required to base factual things, like recipes, on what is really the case at the time of writing?

[Mary]

It's called "pot au feu".
So Mrs W's problems was just calling it daube?

[Michael Bulley]

I haven't got Mastering the Art of French Cookery. So what's the title of the recipe on p.333? If it's bœuf en daube, then fair enough: the authors say you can put chicken in a bœuf en daube. But if it isn't, the point is not made. My French cookery books don't mention putting chicken in bœuf en daube and the first four pages of Google don't either.

[SW Foska]

ps as a jejune etymologist I ought to know this, but is SS by any chance related to the shawarma or humble döner kebab?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shawarma

[Xjy]

Well dumped, High Table.

That'll teach him not to attempt lèse-majesté by indulging in pissing contests with Oxbridge ladies! Icons to boot.

Pedantic pettifoggery doesn't grab you much kudos even if you win, but *losing* just gets Foska's "transatlantic sellout" tail pinned on your behind and earns you Bottom's long ears and braying tongue.

Arriba las brujas de Newnham!

[SW Foska]

Bibliographical note: by his own account, Schama's route to haute cuisine involved abandoning JH Plumb's study and heading for the local Wimpy (Guardian 19 sep 2002). In his acute contribution to vol. 'History and Society since 1970' (google it), Hitchcock takes this gastronomic peripeteia as an allegory for Schama's progression from sophisticated liberal to transatlantic sell-out.

[Franco]

Scharma it seems has been taking hints from the world's favourite blogger Jez Clarkson: http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/comment/columnists/jeremy_clarkson/article3255911.ece

The question is, is being able to cook a mean daube better than being able to "conjugate Caesar's table"