A college pal of mine had a wonderful grandmother that we would visit with from time to time. While I don’t believe there is such a thing as a typical ‘granny’, the story books would have us believe that they are steely little beings, with greying buns and small round glasses; at best full of wisdom and kindness and at worst, manipulative, controlling, tricksters. Christian’s granny bucked all trends. She was regal in appearance; tall, graceful and elegant, generously proportioned with flashing eyes and a knowing smile. Her rich brown hair was always rolled in a stately manner and no matter what time of the day you called she was dressed to her shoes. No tatty house slippers or raggedy dressing gowns for this lady. She lived in a big old house with a large hallway and rooms with big windows and high ceilings. The house overflowed with antiques and unusual trinkets lay everywhere, picked up at various auctions, just one of this woman’s passions which also included horse racing and food. She was from the old school where there was no such thing as instant gravy granules, cheese sauce in a packet or gelatine stock pots. Stock was prepared and made in advance, sauces were prepared from scratch and even mustard and mayonnaise were made rather than bought in a jar. Although not a qualified chef it turned out that Christian’s granny had gone to finishing school and part of the training in all round domesticity was cookery. We had much to learn from her.
As it turned out I always seemed to be around about twice a year when Christian was making a visit. I remember the late spring trips as yellow because the garden to the side of the house was always a riot of daffodils and then in winter such abundance was hidden beneath the frosty grass and leafless trees of November. In summer we would take lemonade and cake on uncomfortable iron chairs in the garden. In the winter we would take warm milky tea and hot scones seated at the kitchen table in a room complete with a massive inglenook fireplace and blazing flames. Apparently had I not been with a member of the family I would have been confined to the more formal dining room, but the kitchen was where the fun was. I was particularly impressed with the massive old larders with large wooden doors and behind them all sorts of wonders. Although supermarkets abounded, time appeared to stand still in this house. Granny O, as she was known, was way ahead of herself when it came to recycling. In the cupboard the tins that stored odds and ends had once been sold with an actual product inside. I remember on one shelf there were two rows of jam jars holding various homemade jams, marmalades, preserves and curds in one row and then savoury chutneys, tomato sauces and pickles on another. There was even a row of clean empty jam jars obviously ready to go again whenever necessary. All jars and tins were neatly labelled and on view. It was the perfect store cupboard and an Aladdin’s cave for me.
We had many chats about food and learned Mrs O’Farrell’s philosophy on cooking and what made a good meal. She was convinced that much had to do with the quality of sauces, gravies and accompaniments. She pointed out that good quality meat didn’t perhaps need too much adornment but, during times of rationing or poorer times when you couldn’t afford luxury a good sauce or gravy could cover a multitude of sins. It would also stretch things that little bit further and bulk up a meal.
Today there is a balance to be struck. Sometimes we need to buy sauces and stock for convenience but we still should know how to make them just in case. To be honest I find making stock a real time consuming luxury at home and do rely quite heavily on bought stocks, but I love making sauces and have learned a lot about them over the years. The trouble with sauces, particularly flour based or egg based sauces, is that the names, often French or foreign, can make them sound much more complicated than they are. Béchamel Sauce, Veloute Sauce, Beurre Blanc, Hollandaise Sauce or Béarnaise Sauce are just a few examples. In reality these are classic sauces that have a very definite simple method.
One day while on a visit to Mrs O’Farrell she gave what could be called, a master class in flour based sauces. With flour based sauces the way to adjust the consistency is to thicken it with flour. There are three basic methods; a roux, blending or all in one. Most of the white sauces are based on a roux; which is simply a cooked mixture of flour and fat; usually butter. The most basic white sauce uses milk but by varying the liquid to stock, wine perhaps or browning liquids you can get a myriad of sauces and gravies. The blending method usually uses thickening flours such as corn flour or arrowroot which give a glossy finish. Gravy should generally have a glossy appearance and not a heavy floury one. For this reason gravies are easy to freeze as the starch doesn’t break down. Again the liquid is up to you; stock, milk or even fruit juices. Corn flour should be made into a paste using a little of the liquid and then added to the sauce. Do not add glossy flours dry. The all in one method is where the flour, butter and liquid are all added at once, but the liquid must be cold. Place all the ingredients in a saucepan and whisk over a moderate heat until boiling. However, Mrs O’Farrell showed me an additional beurre manie that day in the late eighties and I still use it now. The beurre manie is particularly useful if you cook casseroles or stews or are a fan of one pot dinners. It is literally a mixture of flour and butter which can be stirred into a hot liquid to thicken the juices. It is a really convenient way to adjust the consistency of a dish at the end of cooking and you can do it gradually so you are in total control of how thick you want it to be. To make it just place equal amounts of butter and flour in a bowl and knead together with your fingers to make a crumble type texture. Drop spoonfuls, (or use your fingers like I do), of the beurre manie into the simmering sauce; whisking thoroughly. Keep doing this until the desired consistency is achieved. The beauty of a beurre manie is that any leftover can be stored in a covered jar in the fridge and should last for about two weeks. Finally, I have no doubt you are wondering about lumps. Oh yes, the best of us have encountered the problem of lumpy sauces. A good sieve is all you need. Strain your sauce, beat down the lumps and reheat. Sauces needn’t be complicated and it’s good to have a few in your repertoire. As Granny O used to quote with a wicked smile, “What is sauce for the goose may be sauce for the gander, but is not necessarily sauce for the chicken, the duck, the turkey or the guinea fowl”.
Serves 10
