Estimated Nutrition (whole recipe, rough)
Counts 6 of 8 ingredients — the other 2 aren't in our nutrition table and contribute nothing above, so the real totals are higher.
What these numbers assume — 6 portions →
| Ingredient | Portion assumed | kcal |
|---|---|---|
| Butter | 1 tbsp (14g) | 102 |
| Clove | 1 tsp ground (2g) | 7 |
| Celery | 1 stalk (40g) | 6 |
| Black Pepper | 1 tsp ground (2.3g) | 6 |
| Parsley | 1 tbsp chopped fresh (3.8g) | 1 |
| Salt | 1 tsp (6g) | 0 |
| Meat | not in our table | 0 |
| Mace | not in our table | 0 |
Totals for the whole recipe, adding one typical portion per ingredient — listed above. Quantities in the recipe are not counted, so this is a rough guide only — not suitable for medical or dietary planning.
Ingredients
- a large piece of butter
- a head of celery
- a piece of meat before a fire
- one which has been properly roasted by a glowing coal fire
- one must be to the manner born
- pepper
- mace
- cloves
- parsley
- salt
Directions
over witli lemon juice, and placed in a saucepan with just enough water — boiling hot — to cover him well. A large piece of butter, a couple of onions, a head of celery, some sliced carrots, whole pepper, mace, cloves, a bundle of sweet herbs and parsley, with salt to taste, should be added. The boiling should be carried on slowly, the pot should be carefully skimmed, and in a couple of hours or less, according to the size of the victim, the sacrifice will be accomplished.
Some people stuff a boiled turkey with oysters, and serve oyster-sauce with it — that is a matter of taste ; not to stuff it with truffles is also a matter of taste, but there cannot be much doubt about it. A puree of celery, or of chestnuts, or of onions (and why not? — call it Soubise , and no one will object), will go very well with boiled turkey. But to my mind the best of all sauces is tomato sauce ; nor would I object to a puree of endive, or of any other green meat if a proper degree of piquancy were given to it by the admixture of lemon juice.
Many other things are done with turkeys ; they make the best galantines ; their wings ( ailerons ) make very good entrees, and French cookery books — especially the old ones — contain scores of dishes made with these ; lastly, the leg of a turkey makes the best “ Devil” I know.
The national mode of cooking meat in this country is roasting, and such noble joints as a roast sirloin of beef or a roast haunch of mutton can nowhere be found in the same perfection as in England. The quality of the meat has, however, as much to do with it as the skill of the cooks. I fear that, not unfrequently, cooks bake their joints instead of roasting them, and a baked joint is simply a miserable libel upon one which has been properly roasted by a glowing coal fire. But even
admitting that the ordinary run of British cooks can roast a joint to perfection, still in the matter of poultry and game, and of small joints which require minute care and attention, they have yet much to learn. I have heard of a cook whose notion of roasting a widgeon, a plover, or a woodcock, was to lay it on a tin in front of the fire.
This matter of roasting appears at first sight simple enough, but the very simplicity of it makes it a most difficult process to carry out ; and, in fact, in order to do so successfully, one must be to the manner born, as Brillat-Savarin justly remarks, “ on devient cuisinier mais on nait rotisseur.” All that seems necessary to produce a roast is to hang a piece of meat before a fire and make the joint continually turn until it is “done to a turn.” But to attain this end a proper fire must be provided, the cook must be able to judge, to a turn indeed, how long a time the joint will take to roast, and last but not least, to know to what particular degree those for whom she is