Writing about Ken, the cook at the camp in our early tent days reminded me of my best ever cookbook, of which I actually have two copies. One’s in storage at the moment, this one is here in Uruguay, as I have always taken a copy with me for any long term residence as a piece of essential survival gear.
The first chapter of the book is an interesting one – “Catering” has recipes for things like Pea Soup for 120, Curry for 50, Potato Salad for 100, and catering for 300 people at a Public Stock Sale. For a dessert at Wedding Breakfast for 100, in addition to 16 dishes of fruit salad, you’ll need 16 dishes of trifle, which requires 3 gallons (12 litres) of egg custard, (and custard powder could be used instead of eggs) You’d also need: 6 sponges, 2 tins pineapple (presumably large, and diced or crushed? it doesn’t say) The recipe lists a bottle of sweet sherry, which doesn’t seem enough to me š the day before you’d need to make at least 6 jellies, plus have enough whipped cream and blanched almonds on hand. Quantities are not specified for these, so I’d need to ask around, but I imagine any CountryWoman would know, just by looking in her store room, whether or not she has ‘enough’.
Back in the late 50s and through the 60s our national psyche then admired anything and everything imported from ‘overseas’ versus the home-grown product, including technology, clothing, food, beverages, art, antiques, cars and more. Our cultural cringe would still take a couple more decades to wither, and perhaps it’s still never completely died. Even while I was still at home with the family before going off to university in Hobart, however, foreign influences were gradually being absorbed into what had been predominantly British cuisine in Australia. Mum led the way among her friends with trying something new, foreign and presumably sophisticated, principally from post-WWII Europe, France and Italy in particular. The Cold War had set in, and so there was some interest in Eastern European food, too. For some of their dinner parties Mum made Borsch, and Beef Stroganoff, and Hungarian Goulash, and everyone dressed in suits and dinner dresses.
Reading down the chapter titled ‘Here And There’ there are recipes purportedly from many countries, though it’s not straight forward, if this kind of thing ever is. For example, under America there is ‘American Chicken Chop Suey’ and also “Hawaiian Curry’ … hmm. There’s a scattering from ‘Arabia’, Austria, Belgium Germany Hungary, a few from Italy, Jamaica and ‘Jewish’… and as I headed to the page with Russian recipes looking for Beef Stroganoff, (which I’m taking to a farewell lunch for one of the mahjong girls this coming sunday) my eye was caught by ‘Neapolitan Tripe’ in the Italian section.
I’ve never been to Italy, but tripe isn’t something I’d associate with that country. I scanned the recipe to see how it differed from Mum’s ghastly offering in white onion and parsley sauce. I couldn’t believe my eyes !! “Neapolitan Tripe“ is exactly what my friend Fiona Palmer’s mother cooked one morning in about 1957 when I’d been playing at her place – Mrs Palmer asked me to stay for lunch. As we sat down, she said “I hope you like tripe?” I totally hated tripe! However, being brought up to eat what you’re given when you’re out, I smiled enthusiastically and hiding my dismay, took a mouthful of what looked nothing like ‘tripe’ to me, wondering how much I could politely leave …. But it was fabulous, and I have honestly never had tripe as good since. I remember suggesting that Mum try making it that way. Did she ever ask for the recipe? Did Mrs Palmer refuse to give it? Who knows, but it just never appeared at our place. Not long after that Mr. Palmer moved to a mainland parish, and within a few years Fiona and I lost touch.
I’ve never forgotten it, and tried without success to make it a couple of times, but I will use this recipe soon š
- Neapolitan Tripe
- 625 grams tripe
- 1 TBSP chopped onions
- 3 tomatoes
- fresh grated nutmeg
- 2 bacon rashers
- 1 level DSSP ‘shortening’ I will use oil
- 1 clove fresh garlic
- pinch mixed herbs
- S&P to taste
- Cook tripe until tender, then cut into strips. Saute onion and crushed garlic in oil, with peeled and diced tomatoes. Cook until these are soft. Dice bacon, put half in the bottom of the dish, cover with tripe and tomato mixture, toping with the remaining bacon. Grate nutmeg over, bake uncovered for 15 minutes in a moderate oven. Mrs Palmer used a shallow pyrex dish, and I vaguely think she might have added some sliced big field mushrooms, it’s just an impression – but if they weren’t in season my memory is wrong, as in those days in Australia mushrooms were very seasonal.