Sadece LitRes`te okuyun

Kitap dosya olarak indirilemez ancak uygulamamız üzerinden veya online olarak web sitemizden okunabilir.

Kitabı oku: «Len Deighton’s French Cooking for Men: 50 Classic Cookstrips for Today’s Action Men»

Len Deighton

Yazı tipi:

LEN DEIGHTON’S

FRENCH COOKING FOR MEN

COPYRIGHT

HarperCollinsPublishers

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

This edition 2010

First published in Great Britain by

Penguin Books Ltd 1965

Preface, Acknowledgement and Note copyright

Cover designer’s note © Arnold Schwartzman 2010

Revised from Où est le garlic, published 1965,

Basic French Cooking, published 1979, and Basic French

Cookery Course, published 1990

Len Deighton asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

Source ISBN: 9780007351114

Ebook Edition © SEPTEMBER 2014 ISBN: 9780007524846

Version: 2017-05-10

HarperCollinsPublishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content and written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual and technological constraints in operation at the time of publication.

PRAISE FOR ACTION COOK BOOK:

‘Len Deighton’s Action Cook Book is not a good cookbook. It is a shockingly good cookbook’

Village Voice

‘How does one go about achieving some Harry Palmer style? Details first. Remember, Palmer is a gourmet, so get hold of the Len Deighton Action Cook Book’

GQ magazine

‘[Len Deighton’s cookbooks] have attracted cult following for their brilliant design as much as for their comprehensive approach to cooking… his democratising, demystifying approach couldn’t be more appropriate’

Guardian

‘Cooking as I’d never seen it: fun, cheeky, male and promising the awesome prospect of sex… The taut clarity of Deighton’s writing, his encyclopaedic knowledge and attention to detail… The prose reads like Dashiell Hammett channelling Brillat-Savarin’

Waitrose Food Illustrated

‘They showed the idiot novice male how to dice an onion without it falling apart; how to fine-cut parsley by rocking the blade rather than chopping it; how to sauté mushrooms without them yielding the water that would turn them into gelatinous glop’

SIMON SCHAMA

PREFACE TO THE 2010 EDITION

My first visit to France was in 1946. I went by Green Arrow train to Paris (this was the economy version of the Golden Arrow train). I was very young and I had never left Britain before. My father had only agreed to my trip because I was to be met off the train by friends. But in the chaos of post-war France those friends had been ordered to duty elsewhere.

I stepped down from the train into a world different to anything I had seen before. I began shoving my way through a thousand soldiers and all the lawless low-life that flocked to railway terminals in those days. Above the babel of foriegn voices, shouts and whistles punctuated the hisses and growls of steam locomotives. Porters yelling ‘gare!’ forced a way through the crowds, their trolleys piled high with baggage. I was conspicuous in my civvy clothes for everyone had some sort of uniform, and most of them were burdened with packs and helmets and kitbags and rifles. Even the air was different in France; it smelled of Gauloises and garlic, and of the ersatz acorn coffee that had become the national beverage. I waited under the clock for a long time but eventually I picked up my suitcase and turned to the street with that youthful confidence that only ignorance provides.

My ten days in Paris brought scrapes and encounters that could fill a book. A wide-eyed and curious teenager, I drank it all in with amazement. I don’t remember why I chose the Grand Hotel de I’Orient, near Place Blanche. I suppose I must have spotted its imposing name, and economical rates, on a poster or advertisement. In this bohemian neighbourhood the hotel and its residents were unconventional to say the least. I secured the cheapest room. The narrow creaky staircase took me to the top landing and a garret just big enough to hold a metal frame bed, a battered wardrobe and a Thonet chair. I opened the window to see the bent and broken rooftops of Paris. I recalled that classic Jean Gabin film Le jour se lève. Does that hotel and that room still exist? I have resolved time and time again to go back and find it. But searching for one’s dreams can be a way to find nightmares.

Paris was spread out before me. I shivered with delight. But I was a boy with a mission. I didn’t know much about France or French cooking but I had read that the greatest restaurant in the world was here. It was named the Tour d’Argent and it served a famous dish of roast duck. The crispy breast is served as the first course. To make a sauce for it a vast silver-plated press is used to squeeze the juices from the remaining carcass. It is followed by the leg and a simple green salad. It was just the sort of performance I was ready for. I went to the restaurant and sat alone while a sad-eyed waiter regretfully explained that a duck could not be split. It was served for two people. Recklessness overcame my disappointment, and I told him to pretend I was two people. He brightened and seemed delighted to go through the rituals, so that I had four courses, each served with a grave formality that such food deserves. When I was half-way through the second elaborate ceremony with the duck press, two Americans stopped at my table to tell me that they had decided that they had never seen anyone so happy as I clearly was. The waiter was happy too. Instead of a tip I gave him a packet of twenty Players cigarettes. (Although a non-smoker myself I knew that English cigarettes were a valuable currency in Paris.) To show his pleasure he took me on a conducted tour of the kitchen and went label by label through the bins in the famous wine cellars.

That was my introduction to French Cooking. Over the years I have pursued my interest in this discipline both as cook and as consumer. As an art student in the nineteen fifties, I spent my vacations working in many kitchens large and small and made many good friends among the fraternity of chefs.

When my wife’s parents retired they moved to a village in Provence. We had visited them frequently in Paris, and now our focus moved to the south. This lovely region, like most other parts of France, has its own style of cooking and there were lessons to be learned every day. We rented a house and our children attended the primary school in Plascassier. It was a joyful time. Our neighbours were welcoming and kind and, in the village school, the head teacher – M. Guglielmero – his staff and the helpers were saintly. Surrounding this lovely old building there were fields of jasmine, grown for the perfume industry in nearby Grasse. Each morning the head stood at the entrance and greeted each and every arriving pupil personally. No child was ever late; the pupils were keen to learn; the teaching was excellent; even better from our point of view, no one there could speak English. ‘Yes, of course; just like circus people,’ said the imperturbable headmaster when my mother-in-law asked if he could find room for two little boys who could speak no French. He separated the boys into different classes and assigned to each, a companion who would proudly guide and instruct his foreigner. M. Guglielmero employed professional skills at which I still marvel. The two assigned companions were not the students from the top of the class; they were the school’s most popular boys. With these two lively extroverts to guide them, my sons had instant membership of the whole school, and made friends for life. In this amiable environment they learned to speak French indistinguishable from that of local children. To complete the perfection, staff and children all sat together at lunch and enjoyed the same good French cooking. No wonder the French education system is the best, and most effective, in the world.

We all acquired the vocabulary and attempted the techniques of French cooking. It affected our tastes and our kitchen skills ever after. Nowadays my wife and my sons have left me behind in their expertise. They are more precise and careful than I am, and cooking is at its best when measured and monitored. My sons have taken my interest in the chemistry and physics of cooking and pursued it far beyond my own knowledge. Precision scales and thermometers are as essential to them as wooden spoons and sharp knives. This brings me to the question: why this book is called French Cooking for Men. My answer is that when I tell men that it is important to remember that you can open an oven and hold your hand inside when the air is at 300º F but if you put your hand into boiling water (only 212º F) you will be severely burned, men are likely to nod and say ‘yes’. But when I tell ladies this they are likely to reply: ‘OK, Len. But where’s the recipe?’

No, I’m only kidding. The real motive is the hope that the ladies will want to know what I am telling the blokes.

L.D.

TABLE DES MATIERES

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Praise

Preface to the 2010 edition

Cover Designer’s Note

Introduction

L’Art culinaire. Applying heat to food, or if you’ll pardon the word, cooking

Les Viandes. Words and diagrams compare English and French butchery and suggest ways of cooking the cuts

Les Fromages. Cheeses: buying them, serving them and eating them

Les Corps gras. Various kinds of fats to do different jobs

La Carte des vins, Champagne et autres alcools. The simplest of simple guides to a wine list and notes on other drinks from Evian to Champagne and back by way of Cognac

La Cuisine française et le froid. Those that cook and store away …

Le Lexique et le menu. French and English culinary words.

Le Menu. Planning it and reading it.

La Batterie de cuisine. Pots and pans and serving dishes with drawings of them

La Carte des sauces. A complete description of French sauces in chart form

Le Garde-Manger. Beans, rice and pasta

50 Cookstrips. Basic French cooking in 50 simple lessons

Index

Notes

Acknowledgements and Note

Keep Reading

About the Author