One of my
favourite themes, as many of you know, is that of ‘mock’ food. Mock food has a
long and illustrious history over many centuries, and I have included numerous examples
here in almost ten years of blogging. There are many reasons why cooks may
choose to mimic a particular dish. Nostalgia may be the impetus, if a favourite
dish or ingredient is not available for reasons of (for example) migration,
famine, or war. Economic reasons may apply too, if a preferred ingredient is
unaffordable. Cultural and religious reasons can either dictate or forbid a
specific dish, and hence the desire for an acceptable alternative – such as
providing ‘mock’ animal products during the Christian period of Lent, for
example.
There are
also interesting issues of transparency and intent in the mock food debate. Is
the dish a temporary trick, intended to amuse, impress, or induce horror in the
guests when the truth is ultimately revealed, or is the intent a deliberate
deceit on the part of the perpetrator for some sort of slightly sinister
motive?
I can
understand one or more of these justifications being applicable in many
examples of mock food, but I am hard pressed to understand what is behind some
of the following examples. Why not just serve bean shoots openly as bean
shoots, rather than pretend they are spinach, for example?
Mock
Spinach.
Pick young, green bean tips, boil or steam with a sprig of mint, ¼
teaspoon salt, ¼ teaspoon sugar (if liked). Serve with butter, salt and pepper,
as spinach. This method matures and strengthens the main bean crop.
Examiner (Launceston, Tas.) 6 December 1947
Onions are
available cheaply everywhere, and they store easily, so their lack is not
likely to be a common occurrence - and even if they are unavailable, in what
dish are fried onions so absolutely essential that one would need or want to
‘mock’ them? And would anyone really be fooled?
Mock Fried
Onions.
½ medium-sized
cabbage, sliced.
1 tbsp. margarine
2 tbsps. vinegar.
Parboil cabbage.
Strain. Add margarine and vinegar. Place in pan, cove and fry till brown and
tender.
Freeport Journal Standard of January 27,
1955
Substituting low-status turnips for elegant and slightly mysterious
artichokes seems like a strange subterfuge to me. The economic argument might
be appropriate, I guess, but would it fool anyone?
Mock Artichokes.
Pare a solid
white turnip, cut it into slices a quarter of an inch thick, and with a round
cutter, cut from each slice a “cake” about an inch and a half in diameter. Cook
in boiling unsalted water until perfectly transparent. Arrange them on a small
platter, one slice overlapping the other; put at the end of the platter a
well-made egg sauce.
Mrs. Rorer’s Diet for the Sick (1914)
My final example
for the day is for mock olives. Would anyone be fooled, do you think? Or
impressed, if you chose to tell? Why not proudly put out your home-preserved
pickled green plums, instead?
Mock Olives.
¼ peck of green
plums 1 ounce of white
mustard-seed
2 quarts of cider
vinegar 2 heaping
tablespoonfuls of salt
Add the mustard
and salt to the vinegar, pour into a porcelain-lined kettle, and bring quickly
to boiling-point, pour it while boiling over the green plums, and stand away
over-night. In the morning, drain off the vinegar, and make it again boiling
hot and pour it over the plums. When cold, put into bottles and cork tightly.
3 comments:
I'd like to try the mock artichokes -- there's never enough artichoke bottom compared to the rest of the artichoke, and it's so much trouble to get to!
I once did a medieval illusion feast that included roast chickens stuffed with hard-boiled eggs from which the yolks had been removed and substituted with soaked and softened dried apricots (which looked kind of like egg yolks) with blanched almonds in the middle (instead of apricot pits). All just for fun!
If you seasoned it enough, I suppose you could substitute turnip for Jerusalem artichoke?
Hi korenni - your roast chicken dish sounds amazing, and fun! I love the whole concept of mock food, even if the reality is not always interesting.
Hi Shay: I think a lot of these mock dishes are made from a bland-tasting base, with the sauce or seasoning associated with the real thing. Here in Australia, the choko (chayote) grows so easily that it used to be used a lot in place of other things (most infamously as a subsitute for stewed or canned pears, by being cooked in syrup.)
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