Ah!
Oriental food. Don’t you love something exotic on your plate now and again? Of
course, there is always the question of authenticity, but let us not get into a
long debate on that right now – let us just enjoy the idea of strange and
exotic foods from far distant climes.
First,
let us clarify that the Orient is, according to the Oxford English Dictionary:
“That part of the world situated to the east
of a particular point; eastern countries, or the eastern part of a country; the
East …Originally used with reference to countries lying immediately to the east
of the Mediterranean or Southern Europe (i.e. east of the Roman Empire); now
usually understood to mean East Asia … ”
I
guess that most of us in the Occident are pretty familiar with the food of the
Orient nowadays, and although this familiarity has not led to contempt, it has
surely reduced its excitement level. One of the first English language cookery
books to invest a significant amount of space to the concept of Oriental
Cookery was A New System of Domestic
Cookery (1808) by Maria Rundell. Here is what she had to say on the topic:
ORIENTAL COOKERY.
Owe of the great
characteristics of Oriental cookery is the mixture of acids in all savoury
dishes. Besides the lime, which answers to our lemon, the natives of Asia
possess the juice of pomegranates and of tamarinds, for which we have no
equivalent; and also in Persia a seed, the sumach, which, when dried and
pounded, is employed in dredging the kabobs, and imparts to them a fine acid
flavour. Curds are also another ingredient very extensively employed, while the
general fault, at least in India, is the quantity of oiled butter which is
allowed to appear in the gravies when not wholly absorbed by the rice. The
Turkish and the Persian mode of cookery far surpass in excellence that of
Hindostan, though occasionally they are a little strong: such, for instance, as
a dish of finely-sliced onions fried in butter, and saturated with pomegranate
juice, and sent to table with eggs fried in the same butter and placed on the
top. Garlic is often allowed to preponderate rather distressingly, but in other
cases it is managed with great delicacy, the Delhi cooks perfectly
understanding the French method, and boiling it in different waters until it is
as mild as almonds. It is then placed whole in the Chetney. A mixture of sugar,
curds and raisins, in savoury dishes, is also a peculiarity of Oriental
cookery; and Lucknow, especially, is celebrated for its sweet pickles. In the
native cookery of India, the Mohammedan, generally speaking, far excels that of
the Hindoo, in which the absence of meat is too abundantly supplied with ghee
(clarified butter.) The Madras Brahmins, however, are famous for their
vegetable curries, and Europeans soon acquire a taste for the butter and
onions, which form so essential a portion of all. The following receipts are
those which have been adapted to English tables by gastronomes of eminence. As
a slight deviation in the ingredients, in dressing of a curry, makes an amazing
difference in the flavour, many receipts, bearing great names, are given, which
can be well authenticated as genuine. Several of the polaos or pillaws have
been brought to perfection by the officers of Gardiner's Horse, a native corps
of irregular cavalry, in which the few Europeans who are attached to it, live
very much in the Mohammedan fashion. The author has, in her possession, a book
of receipts, translated from the original Persian, written out expressly for
her use, by the khansamar of the late King of Oude, but not being suited to an
English table, they do not appear.
Note.—An exception has
been made in favour of pickled lemons, which is worthy of a trial, being very
good in India.
I
want to add a little more to this story tomorrow, but in the meanwhile, I give
you Mrs. Rundell’s recipe for pickled limes or lemons, which, as she says, is
certainly worthy of a trial.
The
Lucknow Receipt for Pickling Limes or Lemons.—E. R.—Bruise
the limes or lemons on a stone, then throw them into water, and place them
afterwards in an earthen vessel, covered with salt, for two or three days,
shaking the vessel frequently; take out the limes when they are soft, spread
them on a cloth, and let them dry; the open air,is sufficient in India, but in
England they must be placed at the side of a stove. When dry, add vinegar and
the juice which came from them, when in the earthen vessel.
A New System of Domestic Cookery
(1808) by Maria Rundell.
The first time I heard of pickled limes was in Louisa May Alcott's Little Women - I had no idea what was being referred to. I have since often heard of preserved lemons, but never made the connection.
ReplyDeleteSandra