Beeton Eggs

Fanny Cradock wasn't really known for her love of other people, let's be honest. She was rarely portrayed as a supporter of other cooks, other broadcasters, other writers or for that matter other women. There are of course many exceptions, she did have some friends (honest) and some professionals that she raved about, but they were few and far between. She saved all her very special wrath for one particular female cookbook author however. She was a marketing genius, expert at self-promotion, and remains famous to this day. Sound familiar? Fanny 's blood boiled for a perfect four minutes at the very thought of Mrs Beeton.

Fanny was proud of the amount of research that she did to dis-credit this 'no-cook cookery writer' who 'could not even fry an egg.' The recipes that she published were not her own, but rather other people's ancestors recipes, sent in as part of a competition and published by Beeton - who Fanny recognised was at least 'a clever journalist'. Mrs Beeton died aged 29, and Fanny calculated that if she had tested every recipe in the Book of Household Management, even if she had cooked for 32 hours a day, she wouldn't have been able to cook them all even once. Fanny, by comparison, never poached other people's recipes (ahem) and always tested them over and over and over again before publication. Or at least her petrified assistants did. Fanny was too busy doing the research.

One area of severe criticism that is often scrambled Mrs Beeton's way was her recipes which began 'take 16 eggs...' People thought them excessive and out of reach for most household budgets. Fanny, rather surprisingly, defends her arch rival, stating that the criticism is simply NOT valid. Eggs are cheap and nutritious, and quite frankly, according to Fanny, Mrs Beeton certainly knew her eggs.

To showcase these wonderful orbs, Fanny chooses a very filling dish which makes the humble egg go a very long way indeed. There are three main components. The first is an onion sauce, which Fanny makes very simply from simmering chopped onions in milk until they are soft, draining and straining them through a sieve. Meanwhile the saved milk is further heated until it reduces, before the sieved onions are returned to it. It smells amazing. The next essential part is of course perfectly soft-boiled eggs. Four minutes, remember? Run them under cold water immediately and shell them. No need for 16 by the way.

Finally, Fanny takes an old cottage loaf, trims all the crusts off, cuts a large cavity in the top and deep fries it. This seems a step too far for me, and with premonitions of the fire brigade beating down my door (although...) I decide against this. I do cut a deep cavity though, which is filled with the onion sauce. Then the eggs. Fanny completes this treat by pouring a little of the onion sauce over the eggs, and decorating them with dill frongs. And of course a frill of dill around the edge of the cavity. Mrs Beeton would never have time for any of this marvellous detail.

Lacto Lenten Luncheon

Fanny wasn't a fan of Mrs Beeton. She mentions her often. Never in a good way. She says that the original Book of Household Management 'stuff' (she clearly can't bring herself to call it a 'cookbook') is all 'fiddle-faddle'. Fanny blames Mrs Beeton for so many English women failing. She gave all the wrong information. Fanny cannot imagine any professional chef in a professional kitchen wasting their time and money playing the farcical 'games' she outlined. After all, she never had time in her very short life to actually learn how to cook. The only evidence Fanny has seen that she cooked anything came from her sister who remarked that a cake she made when 8 years old 'was a sad failure and turned out like a biscuit'. In what seems to be the ultimate put down, Fanny asserts that Mrs Beeton 'couldn't even fry an egg'.

For Fanny, egg-skills are the most important. Especially for lacto-vegetarians. Especially during Lent. Especially when preparing a buffet for lacto-vegetarian guests during Lent. Not only a time of exclusion, but also a time for frugalness. To confront any nonsense in readers minds that eggs may be an out-of-reach expense, Fanny tells us that she, as a private person, buys her eggs direct from the local farmer at 19p per dozen. Fanny reminds us that any member of the public can do precisely the same thing. If in any doubt, Fanny points out that an egg has the nutritional equivalency to over two ounces of meat, so surely we must accept more readily that 5p is better spent on three fresh eggs than on almost any other foodstuff.

Fanny's point seems to be that the recipes for these lacto-vegetarian (she does love this description!) are good for the household too. As a result of spending prudently on ingredients, we should have more time to spend on cooking them. Apparently. So the less you spend, the more time you have. Great! Making a little go a long way demands more cooking time if what you make is to taste delicious. According to Fanny the only alternative is to cut down on both (and risk a nutritional crisis) and open a tin of something. This can never be a substitute for good cooking. Fanny does say that tins can be superb 'props or aids to good cookery', presumably just in case you happen to own her cookbook devoted to Cooking with Can and Pack in which she does exactly that.

No tins here, this is fresh, locally purchased, farmer approved, lacto-vegetarian fare after all. Oh, except the tin of sweetcorn. She serves it on a bed of 'health' rice, which is brown. All lacto-vegetarians love a bit of brown health. Simply sparkle it up with a hard boiled egg and a dash of paprika. Just like her Mum used to make. The Mushroom and Tomato Bake is layers of mushrooms and tomatoes, chopped roughly, cooked together, then layered with breadcrumbs and milled hazelnuts, also cooked together in butter. With Marjoram in-between each layer. Lacto-Vegetarians, like plain old vegetarians today, love a salad. So Fanny whips up her special Banana, Walnut and Orange Salad of sliced bananas doused in honey and lemon juice, with scattered chopped dates and walnuts, garnished with orange segments. It brings all the lacto-vegetarians to Fanny's yard. Or buffet.

To crown it all off, it has to be more eggs. Stuffed. Boil the economical yet nutritious eggs, peel and carefully slice the top off. Scoop out the yolk, carefully, mix with mayonnaise, ground almonds, grated cheese, a little tomato juice (for 'moistening' purposes), season and then, naturally, pipe it gloriously back into the hollowed out egg. Serve in egg cups stuffed with lettuce leaves. Poor old Mrs Beeton would never manage any of this, but thankfully for us with Fanny's help the buffet is a triumph. It all tastes good, even the Banana Salad. Fanny would never let us fail. Fanny would never let us present 'fiddle-faddle'. Thank heavens for Fanny!

The Mysterious Mrs Marshall and the Case of the Curious Potato Pudding

Fanny wants to play a game with us again. She played it herself, supported by Johnnie of course, in 1963 on the corner of Piccadilly Circus. They stopped random passers-by and asked them 'Who was Agnes Bertha Marshall?' but sadly no-one guessed correctly. Did you, blog passers-by? She was of course the greatest woman cook ever known in Britain, a cook who knew everything the great Escoffier knew, a friend of Royalty, a cook taught others to achieve greatness, a cook who had her own food magazine and a cook who when she died her notoriety diminished. Remind you of anyone? Fanny became obsessed with her, and was busy researching her story for a book. Mrs Marshall, Fanny claimed, was everything that Mrs Beeton was not, and she was determined to restore her memory. The book was never completed, as far as I know, but Fanny did resurrect some of her recipes under the disguise of Mrs Hudson in the Sherlock Holmes Cookbook, as well as throughout the partwork. It really all gets rather strange.

In the first of this new partwork dedicated to 'Surprising you with Potatoes' Fanny does exactly that. It's a traditional recipe that Mrs Marshall sent to her which was published in 1917 in the 1637th edition of her own magazine The Table. It's for a potato pudding. That's a sweet pudding made from potato. Various vegetable creations are all the rage these days with cakes made from carrots, courgettes and beetroot, but I'm not sure even my dear blogging friend Veggie Desserts would use a potato for a pudding. The other ingredients are flour, baking powder, lemon juice and rind, golden syrup, an egg and some butter. The cooked pudding is served with a chocolate sauce. Surprise! 

Fanny insists that potatoes are steamed, never boiled. Ever. More on that to come. They then need to be sieved finely to produce a very soft and fluffy mash, just with an ordinary household sieve of course. It does make the potato very fine and pillowy. Add some melted butter, beat in the egg, lemon juice and rind. Add the golden syrup, flour and baking powder. 

The mixture is then turned into a buttered soufflé dish and baked in a moderate oven for an hour, while the sauce is made. It's a fairly simple sauce made by heating  and dissolving golden syrup, cocoa powder and water together. 

As I am making this, I can't help but wonder if it really will be a treat. Fanny tries hard to convince me, saying if it was good enough for Mrs Marshall, and good enough for the shortages of the First World War, then it should please families today. Clearly. Once baked it has risen just like a soufflé but the texture of mashed potato remains. Adding the chocolate sauce only adds to the 'surprise' when tasting - I just can't get the notion that it's 'potato and gravy', as it looks, out my mind. It tastes sweet, lemony and very much still of mashed potato. It certainly was a surprise for me, and I am sure would be a surprise to Holmes and Watson. Perhaps I should take to the streets and surprise people with a taste? Is the real surprise that still no one remembers dear old Mrs Marshall?