Veg and Vim - Fanny Cradock's Meat Free Monday

After all the sponge cakes, Fanny brings this partwork to a close with a savoury treat for vegetarians in the shape of her first Menu, or Bill of Fare. Fanny is of course known more for her meat dishes, but in reality she was also a fan of meat-free cookery. Her only provisio was that it was cooked well, in other words, to her standards. She could not bear 'wasted' ingredients. She did admit that some of her recipes, like these, would be 'acceptable to vegetarians' and even the most carnivorous of humans had been know to 'react favourably' to them. Not exactly the most glowing endorsement for vegetarianism, but in 1970 I think we would have been even more of a minority than today. Although they couldn't be described as 'vegetarian' as such, Fanny did write two 'Vegetable Cookery' books in 1959 - the first called 'Cabbages and Things' and the second 'Veg and Vim' which explained how to prepare vegetables, how to grow them, how to balance out meals by replacing protein that would be normally be found in meat and so on. Probably based more on the necessity of the times than morality, but both still hold up very well today.

For this particular vegetarian supper, Fanny introduces some simple, exciting and exotic dishes aimed at helping you to get 'one-up-manship' on your neighbours as they are scarcely known in this country famous for it's meat and two veg. Ditch the meat. The first, a Tunisian delight called Chachouka, I am guessing didn't catch on as I still hadn't heard of it, but the second, Champignon Mornay or Baked Mushrooms in Cheese Sauce has become a vegetarian staple. Fanny prefers fresh vegetables, and even encourages us to go foraging like she did during the war to find large field mushrooms. However if foraging is not for you, and fresh is not available, Fanny does say that tinned can be substituted in 'emergency situations'.

The Chachouka starts life as slices tomatoes and peppers, or Pimentoes as Fanny always calls them, sautéed in butter. First though, they need to be peeled. The tomatoes are submerged in boiling water, but Fanny has a new technique to pimp up the Pimentoes. Fanny says to only buy hard ones which feel crisp to the touch, soft and wrinkly are not worth the money. So don't do it. To remove the skin 'successfully' they should be halved and set under a very hot grill until they blacken. The skin should now peel away like 'paper from a damp wall'. It does, and the benefit over my usual technique of placing them after blackening in a plastic bag is that they don't go slimy.

Once the are mingled nicely in a pan over a gentle heat with the tomatoes and butter, which appears to be the only flavouring added, and are piping hot they should be served with some scrambled eggs, again cooked in lots of butter. Butter is back in the foodie headlines as a 'good' ingredient at the moment, but Fanny always knew that.

One ingredient that Fanny uses which would certainly not be acceptable to any vegetarian, in 1970 or not, is pork fat. She uses this to 'impregnate' the mushrooms with flavour before they are baked. I make a substitution for more butter. It goes nice and nutty brown during the 'impregnation'. Then pile on a mix of cream, chopped shallot and cheese, which is seasoned slightly for baking. The two dishes are very simple, but very flavoursome, and really show off the vegetables to their best. I think vegetarian palettes and expectations might quiver a little at these if served in a restaurant today, but for a quick, homely supper full of 'veg and vim', and as 'penny plain dishes' as Fanny describes, they are perfect. Fanny knew her vegetables, and that seems acceptable to me.

If your purse won't stretch to Les Diamants Noirs

Fanny is constantly treading a fine line between presenting ideas and recipes that are economical for the 'housewife' and those that really create a bit of one-upmanship with the neighbours. The line is sometimes drawn very heavily and is as pronounced as her very own eyebrows however. She just can't help herself. In recommending cheaper or more sensible ideas, she has to let us know that she herself makes good use of the ingredients that are out of ordinary reach. It's no different with omelettes, and Fanny turns her attention here to Truffles, trying (and failing) of course not to rub our snouts in the fact that we will simply not be able to afford such a thing. Fanny includes a whole section to tell us exactly why these 'out-of-reach' truffles are unsuitable to even be mentioned in her partwork, but of course recognises that we might be fortunate enough to perhaps be given one one day. Fanny herself picks them up while in France, and seems happy to pay the £3 or £4 (each) price tag, which would've been an absolute fortune in 1970. Fanny recommends if you do have the good fortune to be given such a black diamond, to pop it in a box with some porous eggs which will take on the flavour without having to 'impair' the actual truffle. Good forbid that ordinary people would shave, slice and consume such a luxury.

Fanny is keen to rescue me from social suicide as I have no sign of any truffles in my life - she has adapted a classic French Truffle Omelette Gargamelle to allow me to show off at any upcoming dinner party. So instead of worrying while bathing upstairs, I can flounce down confidently after popping my face and frock on when my guests arrive to amaze them gastronically. It's a fairly simple omelette creation substituting truffles with chestnut mushrooms, shallots, white wine and cream. I'm sure my guests will hardly notice that I have failed to forage...

For the omelette filling Fanny asks that I finely chop the mushrooms and grate the shallot. I tried. Perhaps my grater just wasn't up to it, but after a few minutes of just rubbing it against the blooming thing without success I chopped it finely too. I was expecting to fry the mixture gently before adding the wine and cream, but instead Fanny recommends poaching and simmering in the liquor. It worked perfectly, and after about 5 minutes of gentle bubbling it was soft and reduced a little. Now to the omelette.

Fanny let's it be known that she's already instructed us in the art of a French Omelette, and just to get on with it, up to a point. So I gently beat the eggs with a fork and add small dots of butter rubbed through my very clean fingers, before forking again gently and seasoning. My omelette pan is heating up dry, and I'm ready to go...

Adding a little butter to the hot pan, I pour in the forked up mix and continue with my fork action (being very careful to use the round part and not the prongs, which will of course damage the pan) until the base of the omelette is set, but the upper side still wet. I pile in half the mushroom mixture and flip over the omelette to seal and add the remainder. Fanny then tells me to 'swill' in some more cream and add some cheese on top. Ah, Fanny hadn't listed cheese in the ingredients so I wasn't prepared for this final flourish. Luckily though I had some goats cheese lurking about in the fridge which needed to be used. All ready, the only thing left was to flash it under a fierce grill to melt the cheese and brown the top. So, no expensive, out-of-reach ingredients, but indeed a very luxurious omelette to end this run. I'm still tempted to get my hands on the real McCoy of course, and one day I may be lucky enough to uncover a real Diamant Noir while out in the woods with pig by my side. Or one of the neighbours I am constantly showing off to will pop one through my letterbox perhaps.