Ice Carving Made Easy by Joseph Amendola, htmlz, B000W27EFA

  • Full Title : Ice Carving Made Easy
  • Autor: Joseph Amendola
  • Print Length: 128 pages
  • Publisher: Wiley; 2 edition
  • Publication Date: November 30, 1968
  • Language: English
  • ISBN-10: B000W27EFA
  • ISBN-13: 
  • Download File Format: htmlz


"With this new edition of Ice Carving Made Easy, Second Edition, Joe Amendola shares with all present and future ice carvers the resurgence of this historic art form. This book will guide and inspire thousands of chefs and artists to enjoy the artistic fulfillment, professionalism, and camaraderie of the exciting art of ice carving." –Larry Malchick, President, National Ice Carving Association "The information on the history, tools and accessories, different methods, types of ice blocks, and the safety and precautionary measures in ice carving will be of tremendous help to many young enthusiasts in their goal to become professional ice sculptors." –Hiroshi Noguchi, C.E.C., A.A.C., Executive Chef, Stouffer Orlando Resort Here is the first new American ice carving manual to be released in ten years! Written by a culinary master, Joe Amendola, it addresses current developments in the field of ice carving. It emphasizes American and European subjects and designs in an attempt to offset the exclusivity of oriental designs in available Japanese books. The organization of Ice Carving Made Easy, Second Edition allows for carvers of every proficiency to use the book with success–each stage of creating a carving is discussed, from manufacturing of ice to the final presentation. Such introductory topics as the handling of ice, hand and power tools, and templates are described in as much detail and given as much attention as the more complex sections about carving faces, fusing, and developing multiple block sculptures. Each of the 34 ice sculptures that Amendola presents is supported by step-by-step instructions that allow the novice and expert alike to create show-pieces that will add a special touch to banquets, buffets, and special events.




szechuan chicken, usda nutrient database, human nutrition, vegan soup recipes, chow fun recipe,
wine stoppers, how to brew, cuisine, spanish dessert recipes, spinach ravioli, food has been prepared in order to be enjoyed. It should be relaxing, not taking you into a stress zone.

The palate can be educated. It’s a matter of learning, of discipline, and of practice. It is also the best reason in the world to stop smoking. Smoking will always dull your palate and confuse your tastebuds. It’s a bit like playing soccer with your bootlaces tied together.

I love to see an array of cookbooks on someone’s shelf. It means that I can see who excites people. I have hundreds of cookbooks in my kitchen. I especially love to see a top chef’s recipes domesticated for home use, although I get nervous if people tell me that they follow my recipes word for word. A recipe is a guideline. Adding, subtracting, evolving it—that is part of the pleasure. If a particular herb is not to your taste, if you don’t like the strength of rosemary, say, then by all means, use thyme, especially lemon thyme. If you prefer the purple basil in the middle of summer, then great (if you ever can get it). If you are not excited about using rutabaga the way I am, then substitute celery root. We don’t eat enough roots like these and turnips or kohlrabies—in terms of flavor, they’re extraordinary.

Adapting a recipe’s ingredients is completely in your hands. But the method is what really matters. The techniques in cooking are rigorous and imperative: They are your passport to a successful dish. Cooks must practice, practice, practice. Anyone can learn, but you need focus, proper understanding, and to go at the right pace, not running before you can walk.

I’ll never forget, as a 22-year-old commis chef, working for the Roux brothers, when all I wanted to do was bake—make the most amazing puff pastry, choux pastry, sourdough bread, and tomato and olive bread, using a natural yeast and fermentation. As a baker, you would start at midnight and work until midday. At half past midnight, the kitchen fell silent. All you could hear were the timers and the steamers for the second rise. On one occasion, I had to put together this marquise chocolate. Pascal, the young French pastry chef I was taking the section over from, could hardly speak English. He left me a box of After Eight mints, and said that I was to put a layer of chocolate mousse in the bottom of the mold and then add the After Eights. He wanted me to cut them in half and arrange them in threes in order to get this line of mints going through the mousse. I was thinking: this guy’s winding me up. He’s trying to get me into trouble. So I ate the mints instead.

The next day, Albert Roux came in. You have to give him one of everything, down to every bread roll, so that he can taste it all. I gave him the marquise, and he went bananas because it didn’t have the mints running through the center. I couldn’t believe he would make an amazing chocolate mousse and stick After Eight mints in the middle. I got a bollocking. The marquise was thrown in the trash, and I had to start again. I grew up on a council estate, living in subsidized housing, but have been able to learn from the best. I’ve trained my palate with some of the greatest chefs. But sometimes you have to question even the best and greatest. Cookery is quite a journey. Take nothing for granted.

Gordon Ransay

hot and cold soups

Soups are truly versatile: They can be as light or substantial as you want. In small amounts, a soup can excite the palate in the form of a first course. Enrich the broth or bulk it up with chunky ingredients and it is a satisfying main course.

I fell in love with chowders when I spent a few months filming in the U.S. We tasted amazing New England clam chowders on the East Coast. In San Francisco, one of the main treats was sourdough bread bowls filled with thick bisques and creamy soups. Once you’ve devoured the soup, you’re left with a flavorful bread bowl to break apart and savor.

Whether you’re making an elegant blended soup or a more homey chowder, always start with a good base. Good-quality stock provides a depth of flavor that brings together all the elements in a soup. It is also important to season well.

Chilled cucumber soup

Curried cauliflower and Cheddar soup

Roast chestnut, parsnip, and apple soup

Asparagus velouté

Alnwick soup

Broccoli, Stilton, and pear soup

Conger eel bisque

Italian-style turnip soup

Cornish crab soup

Oxtail soup

Summer soup

Crayfish chowder

Baked potato soup with sour cream

Creamy sorrel soup

Chilled cucumber soup

Nothing beats a chilled cucumber soup on a hot, balmy day: It cools the body and whets the appetite. I find a little horseradish cream brings the soup alive, but you can leave it out to keep the flavors subtle and light.


3 English cucumbers, about 1½ pounds each, straight from the refrigerator

lemon juice to taste

1 tablespoon olive oil handful of fresh dillweed, leaves roughly chopped, plus a few fronds for garnish

2 cups plain yogurt

1–2 tablespoons cream-style horseradish, or to taste (optional)

Peel the cucumbers and cut two lengthwise into quarters. Slice off the seedy core from each quarter, then chop into dice. Put into a large bowl and set aside.

Peel the remaining cucumber into long, thin ribbons using a swivel vegetable peeler. (Cut the ribbons in half if you think they are too long.) Place in another bowl and toss with a little lemon juice, the olive oil, chopped dill, and a seasoning of salt and pepper. Cover with plastic wrap and keep refrigerated until ready to serve.

Put half the yogurt, a pinch of salt, some pepper, and half the chopped cucumber into a blender. Blitz to a smooth purée. Press the purée through a fine sieve, pushing down hard with the back of a ladle. Discard the cucumber pulp in the sieve. Repeat the process with the remaining chopped cucumber and yogurt. Taste and adjust the seasoning of the cucumber purée, adding horseradish or a squeeze of lemon juice, as desired. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate if not serving immediately.

To serve, pour the cold soup into chilled bowls and garnish with the dressed cucumber ribbons and dill fronds.

Curried cauliflower and Cheddar soup

A little curry powder and saffron elevate the classic combination of cauliflower and cheese to another dimension in this soup. It is ideal as a welcoming first course or a comforting and warming lunch when the weather is cold. The soup is delicious served with warm Indian bread.


4 tablespoons olive oil

2 small onions, chopped

2 celery ribs, chopped

1 medium head of cauliflower, cut into florets

1 teaspoon mild curry powder

pinch of saffron strands

1¼ cups hot chicken or vegetable stock (see Chapter 9)

1¼ cups milk

4 ounces medium or sharp Cheddar, grated (about 1 heaped cup)

Heat half the oil in a large pot and add the onions and celery. Stir over medium heat until the vegetables are beginning to soften, 3–4 minutes. Add the remaining oil, the cauliflower florets, curry powder, and saffron, and season with salt and pepper. Stir well and cook for a couple of minutes. Cover the pot and cook for 4–5 minutes, lifting the lid to give the mixture a stir every now and then.

Remove the lid and pour in the chicken stock. Bring to a simmer, then pour in the milk, adding a splash of water if the liquid does not cover the vegetables. Return to a gentle simmer. Partially cover the pot and simmer until the cauliflower is very soft, about 10 minutes.

Use an immersion blender to purée the soup in the pot, or purée the soup in two batches in a regular blender, then return the soup to the pot. Bring to a gentle simmer over low heat, then slowly stir in the cheese to melt. If the soup is too thick, stir in a little hot water. Taste and adjust the seasoning before serving.

Roast chestnut, parsnip, and apple soup

The subtle, nutty flavor of chestnuts is paired with sweet apples and parsnips in this creamy soup. I love this earthy combination of flavors. The soup makes an easy lunch when served with a toasted cheese sandwich. Save time by using vacuum-packed chestnuts, which have been peeled and are ready to use.


1½ tablespoons butter

2 medium parsnips, chopped

2 celery ribs, chopped

2 apples, peeled, cored, and chopped

8 ounces roasted chestnuts, shelled, peeled, and roughly chopped

2½ cups hot chicken or vegetable stock (see Chapter 9)

2–4 tablespoons light cream for serving

Melt the butter in a wide pot and add the parsnips, celery, and a little seasoning. Stir over high heat until the vegetables are lightly golden, 4–6 minutes. Tip in the apples and cook, stirring occasionally, until the apples are soft, 4–5 minutes longer.

Add the chestnuts, pour in the stock to cover, and bring to a simmer. Cook for 5–10 minutes. Remove the pot from the heat and use an immersion blender (or a regular blender) to blitz the soup to a smooth and creamy purée.

Return the soup to the pot, if necessary, and taste and adjust the seasoning. If you prefer the soup thinner, loosen the consistency with a splash of boiling water. Reheat gently just before serving. Serve in warm bowls garnished with swirls of cream.

Asparagus velouté

The delicate flavor of asparagus comes through in this smooth and velvety soup. At the restaurant, we use older spears and asparagus trimmings to make the velouté, reserving all the young, tender spears for salads and for garnishes. The soup can be served hot or well chilled.


2 large bunches of asparagus, about 1¾ pounds in total

1½ tablespoons olive oil, plus extra for drizzling

2 tablespoons butter

1 small onion, chopped

1 celery rib, chopped

leaves stripped from a sprig of fresh thyme

about 3 cups hot chicken or vegetable stock (see Chapter 9)

squeeze of lemon juice (optional)

2/3 cup heavy cream

Pick out 12 of the most attractive asparagus spears and cut off the tips to use for garnish. Roughly chop the rest of the asparagus and set aside.

Heat the oil and half of the butter in a large pot and add the onion, celery, and a seasoning of salt and pepper. Cook, stirring frequently, until the vegetables begin to soften, 4–6 minutes. Add the chopped asparagus and the thyme and stir over high heat until the asparagus is tender but still vibrant green, 3–4 minutes. Pour in just enough stock to cover and simmer for 2 minutes. Remove the pot from the heat.

Blend the soup while it is still hot: Place half the vegetables in a blender using a slotted spoon, add one or two ladles of hot stock, and blend well. Push the resulting purée through a fine sieve into a clean pot, pressing down hard with the back of the ladle. Discard the pulp. Repeat with the remaining soup. Gradually add more hot stock to the sieved purée until you get a creamy consistency. Taste and adjust the seasoning, adding a little lemon juice if you like, and erring toward the side of over-seasoning if you intend to serve the soup cold.

When ready to serve, add the cream and gently reheat until the soup just comes to a simmer. Meanwhile, sauté the asparagus tips in the remaining butter with some seasoning in a hot frying pan. Add a splash of water, cover the pan, and let the asparagus steam until just tender, 2–3 minutes.

Pour the soup into warm bowls and garnish with the asparagus tips. Drizzle a little olive oil over the top and serve immediately.

Alnwick soup

I’ve used the core ingredients of the classic Alnwick stew, from Northumberland, England, to make this hearty soup. The broth is light and flavorful, and at the same time the chunks of ham and vegetables are nourishing and satisfying. Eat with rye or seeded bread. Comfort in a bowl.



2 smoked ham hocks, about 1¾ pounds in total

1 large onion, roughly chopped

2 large carrots, roughly chopped

2 celery ribs, roughly chopped

1 bay leaf

few sprigs of fresh thyme

½ teaspoon black peppercorns

To finish:

2 large onions, roughly chopped

2 large boiling potatoes, cut into bite-size chunks

2 celery ribs, roughly chopped

few sprigs of fresh thyme

generous handful of fresh flat-leaf parsley, leaves chopped

Cut off any rind and excess fat from the ham hocks, then place in a large pot. Cover with cold water and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and let simmer for 10 minutes. Pour off the water.

Add the onion, carrots, celery, bay leaf, thyme, and peppercorns to the pot to join the ham hocks. Cover with fresh water and bring to a simmer. Gently cook until the meat is tender and falling off the bone, 2½–3 hours, turning the hocks around halfway through to ensure even cooking. When ready, let the hocks cool in the liquid.

Remove the ham hocks to a large bowl using a pair of tongs. Pull the meat off the bone and tear into bite-size chunks. Strain the stock into a clean pot and discard the vegetables, herbs, and peppercorns. Add the onions, potatoes, celery, and thyme to the strained stock and bring to a simmer. Cook until the vegetables are soft, 30–40 minutes. Add the chunks of ham and simmer for 10 minutes longer to warm through. Ladle into warm soup bowls and sprinkle with parsley.

Broccoli, Stilton, and pear soup

Here’s a soup that’s perfect for entertaining, both for its elegance and for its ease of preparation. The broccoli soup can be prepared a day in advance, ready to reheat. It is best to roast the pears just before serving, but you can peel them earlier: Put them in water with a squeeze of lemon juice to prevent them from turning brown, then drain and pat dry with paper towels before roasting so they will caramelize nicely.


2 large heads of broccoli, about 2¼ pounds in total

3 cups hot chicken or vegetable stock (see Chapter 9)

4 ounces Stilton, crumbled

2 firm but ripe pears

2 tablespoons butter

handful of toasted sliced almonds for garnish

Cut the broccoli into florets, but do not waste the stalks. Peel off the tough skins from the stalks and roughly chop up the tender core.

Bring the stock to a boil in a large pot. Add the broccoli and cover the pot. Cook until the broccoli is tender but still bright green, 3–4 minutes. In two batches, blend the broccoli and stock into a smooth soup, adding half of the Stilton as you do so. Return the soup to the pot. Taste and adjust the seasoning. Reheat just before serving.

Peel the pears and cut them in half lengthwise. Remove the cores with an apple corer. Melt the butter in a pan and add the pear halves, cut-side down. Spoon the foaming butter over the pears to baste as you cook them. Pan-roast them on one side until they are golden brown around the edges, 1–2 minutes, then flip them over to pan-roast the other side for 1–2 minutes longer. Remove to a plate and drain off the excess butter.

Pour the soup into warm bowls and place a pan-roasted pear half in the center of each. Scatter the remaining crumbled Stilton and the sliced almonds over the soup to garnish. Serve at once.

Conger eel bisque

Conger eels, which you can find in ethnic markets, are considered a delicacy by the French and Japanese. Here I’ve used the eel as a base for a flavorful fish soup. It’s rich, so serve it in small bowls with a few garlic croûtes.


4½ pounds conger eel fillets (ask the fish merchant to remove the skin and cut the meat into boneless fillets)

pinch of saffron strands

olive oil for cooking

1 fennel bulb, finely sliced

1 carrot, chopped

2 celery ribs, chopped

1 shallot, chopped

2 garlic cloves, crushed

2 star anise

1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1 cup Pernod or Noilly Prat

1 large potato, about 12 ounces, finely diced (about 2 heaped cups)

5 vine-ripened plum or Roma tomatoes, deseeded and chopped sprig each of fresh basil and flat-leaf parsley, leaves chopped

4 cups hot fish stock (see Chapter 9)

squeeze of lemon juice (optional)

Season the eel fillets with salt, pepper, and saffron, then drizzle on a little olive oil. Toss well to coat evenly. Heat a thin layer of olive oil in a wide pot. Fry the eel fillets in batches over medium heat for 2–3 minutes on each side. Remove to a plate and set aside.

Add a little more oil to the pot and toss in the fennel, carrot, celery, shallot, garlic, star anise, and cayenne. Cook over medium heat for a few minutes, stirring frequently. Pour in the Pernod and boil until reduced to a syrupy consistency. Add the potato, tomatoes, and herbs, then return the eel to the pot. Pour in enough stock to cover and bring to a simmer. Cook gently until the potatoes are very soft, 15–20 minutes.

Remove and discard the star anise. In batches, blend the soup until smooth, holding a dish towel over the blender as you blitz to avoid hot-soup splatters. Strain the soup through a fine sieve into a clean pot, pressing down to extract all the liquid.

Return the soup to a gentle simmer and reheat for a few minutes. Taste and adjust the seasoning, adding a squeeze of lemon juice if needed. Serve immediately.

halwa, cookie cake, paleo vegetables, bacardi drinks, morebeer, low in moisture compared to other veggies, so they’re perfect for making baked chips. You can use all of one type, but we like to use a combination for a more colorful mix!

1. Preheat oven to 375°F. Lightly coat two large baking sheets with cooking spray.

2. Use a mandoline to slice vegetables 1/16 inch thick. If using beets, place slices between layers of paper towels and press firmly to remove excess liquid. Arrange slices in a single layer on prepared baking sheets. Spray tops of vegetables with cooking spray; sprinkle with salt and pepper.

3. Bake 10 minutes. Remove and let stand 5 minutes. Return baking sheets to oven. Bake 4 to 8 minutes more; check for doneness every minute after 4 minutes. Chips are done when centers no longer look wet. Cool chips on paper towels 5 minutes to crisp. Store cooled chips in an airtight container up to 24 hours. If necessary, recrisp chips in a 325°F oven 3 to 4 minutes.

*Tip For a change, try a combination of these vegetables. To avoid burning, check the doneness frequently and remove each type of chip when done.

Per serving 56 cal., 0 g fat, 0 mg chol., 181 mg sodium, 13 g carb., 2 g fiber, 3 g sugars, 1 g pro.

Most of a sweet potato’s moisture is trapped in the interior. The key to crisp chips is to properly cook paper-thin slices of veggies. A chip that is undercooked or sliced too thick will be limp. That’s why we love the mandoline!


1. Use a mandoline to slice the veggies 1/16 inch thick. Small, thin pieces have a lot of surface area and will quickly lose moisture in the oven. Low moisture means crispy chips.

2. Sandwich slices between paper towels; press to remove as much liquid as possible. You want the interiors of the sliced veggies, as they cook, to be dry by the time the crust forms on the exteriors.

3. Lay sliced veggies in a single layer on a baking sheet. After baking for the last 4 minutes, watch these closely. After the sugars caramelize and crisp, the chips may brown more rapidly.

Baked Root Vegetable Chips

MAKES: 4 servings TESTED BY: Carla C.

002 Peppered Kale Chips


Kale transforms from bitter and tough to soft and sweet with just a few minutes of oil massage. After a short stay in the oven, the chips will practically dissolve in your mouth.—CC

prep 10 minutes bake 22 minutes at 300°F

1 bunch fresh kale (12 oz.)

1 Tbsp. olive oil

¼ tsp. salt

¼ tsp. coarsely ground black pepper

⅛ tsp. cayenne pepper (optional)

1. Preheat oven to 300°F. Line two large baking sheets with parchment paper; set aside.

2. Remove and discard thick stems from kale. Tear leaves into bite-size pieces. Rinse and dry kale pieces in a salad spinner or pat dry with paper towels.

3. In a large bowl combine kale, oil, salt, black pepper, and, if desired, cayenne pepper; use your hands to massage oil and seasonings into the kale. Arrange kale in a single layer on prepared baking sheets. Bake 20 minutes. Stir gently. Bake 2 to 4 minutes more or until completely dry and crisp (check chips frequently to prevent burning).

Make-ahead directions Make chips up to 24 hours in advance and store in an airtight container. If necessary, recrisp chips in a 300°F oven 5 minutes.

Per serving 73 cal., 4 g fat (1 g sat. fat), 0 mg chol., 182 mg sodium, 9 g carb., 2 g fiber, 2 g sugars, 3 g pro.


1. Think about potato chips and tear your leaves into similar-size pieces. Holding each leaf at the base of the stem, tear the leafy portions away from the thick stem.

2. Rinse the torn leaves and use a salad spinner to completely dry them. If you don’t have a spinner, dry the leaves between paper towels. If the kale is wet, the oil won’t adhere and your chips won’t crisp.

3. Use your hands to massage the oil and spices onto the leaves. This helps to break down the cellulose structure of the kale and bring out its flavor. The leaves will darken and wilt slightly.

4. Spread kale on a parchment-lined baking sheet in a single layer. An overcrowded baking sheet will keep the leaves from browning evenly—leaves on the bottom might be soggy.

Peppered Kale Chips

After baking 20 minutes, stir the kale chips and return to the oven for 2 to 4 minutes. They should be crispy, brittle, and browned—but not burned. They actually crisp up even more as they cool, so you have to be patient before digging in!

MAKES: 14 servings TESTED BY: Julie H.

003 Hummus


We always let hummus stand at room temperature for 30 minutes before serving to allow its beany, garlicky, toasty flavor and creamy texture to fully express itself.—JH

start to finish 15 minutes

1 15- to 16-oz. can garbanzo beans (chickpeas), rinsed and drained

1 clove garlic, minced

¼ cup tahini (sesame seed paste)

¼ cup lemon juice

¼ cup olive oil

½ tsp. salt

¼ tsp. paprika

Stir-ins (such as ¼ cup sliced green onions; ¼ cup crumbled feta cheese; ⅓ cup chopped ripe olives or Kalamata olives; ⅓ cup chopped roasted red sweet peppers; ¼ cup basil pesto; 2 to 3 chopped chipotle peppers;* and/or 1 Tbsp. snipped fresh dill weed) (optional)

1 Tbsp. snipped fresh parsley

2 to 3 tsp. olive oil (optional)

2 Tbsp. pine nuts, toasted** (optional)

Toasted pita wedges and/or cut-up vegetables

Tahini is a creamy, thick paste made from ground sesame seeds. Look for it at larger grocery stores in the Asian foods section.

1. In a blender or food processor combine the first seven ingredients (through paprika). Cover and blend or process 1 minute or until smooth.

2. If desired, add one or more of the optional stir-ins. Sprinkle with parsley. If desired, drizzle with additional oil and top with pine nuts. Serve at room temperature with pita wedges and/or vegetables.

*Tip Chile peppers contain oils that can irritate your skin and eyes. Wear plastic or rubber gloves when working with them.

**Tip To toast nuts, spread them in a single layer in a shallow baking pan. Bake in a 350°F oven 5 to 10 minutes or until golden brown, shaking pan once or twice.

Per serving 97 cal., 6 g fat (1 g sat. fat), 0 mg chol., 176 mg sodium, 8 g carb., 2 g fiber, 2 g sugars, 2 g pro.

Beet Hummus In a blender or food processor combine one 15-oz. can cannellini beans (white kidney beans), rinsed and drained; ¼ cup tahini; 2 Tbsp. lemon juice; one 8-oz. pkg. refrigerated cooked whole baby beets or one 15-oz. can small whole beets, drained; 1 Tbsp. prepared horseradish; 2 cloves garlic, minced; and ½ tsp. salt. Cover and blend or process until nearly smooth. With machine running, add ¼ cup olive oil in a slow stream until combined. If desired, cover and chill up to 24 hours. If desired, top with chopped hard-cooked egg and/or snipped fresh parsley.

Carrot Hummus In a covered small saucepan cook 1 cup chopped carrots in a small amount of boiling water 6 to 8 minutes or until tender; drain. In a blender or food processor combine cooked carrots; one 15-oz. can garbanzo beans (chickpeas), rinsed and drained; ¼ cup tahini; 2 Tbsp. lemon juice; 2 cloves garlic, quartered; ½ tsp. ground cumin; and ¼ tsp. salt. Cover and blend or process until smooth. If necessary, stir in enough water, 1 Tbsp. at a time, to reach dipping consistency. Stir in 1 Tbsp. snipped fresh parsley.

Roasted Red Pepper Hummus Preheat oven to 425°F. Cut 2 red sweet peppers in half lengthwise; remove stems, seeds, and membranes. Place pepper halves, cut sides down, on a foil-lined baking sheet. Add 4 unpeeled garlic cloves. Roast 20 to 25 minutes or until peppers are charred and very tender. Bring foil up around peppers and garlic; fold edges together to enclose. Let stand 15 minutes or until cool enough to handle. Use a sharp knife to loosen edges of the pepper skins; pull off the skins in strips and discard. Peel garlic. In a blender or food processor combine roasted peppers and garlic; one 15-oz. can garbanzo beans (chickpeas), rinsed and drained; ¼ cup sliced green onions; ¼ cup tahini; 2 Tbsp. lemon juice; ½ tsp. salt; ¼ tsp. paprika; and, if desired, a dash crushed red pepper. Cover and blend or process until smooth. With machine running, add ⅓ cup olive oil in a slow stream until blended.


MAKES: 12 servings TESTED BY: Linda B.

004 Asiago-Artichoke Dip


We’ve tasted a lot of artichoke dips in our Test Kitchen over the years! This is one of the creamiest baked artichoke dips ever. The secret is just a little flour stirred into the sour cream before baking. We couldn’t stop eating at taste panel!—LB

prep 20 minutes bake 30 minutes at 350°F cool 15 minutes

1 14-oz. can artichoke hearts, rinsed and drained

2 oz. thinly sliced prosciutto or 2 slices bacon

1 cup arugula or fresh spinach, chopped

1 8-oz. carton sour cream

3 Tbsp. all-purpose flour

½ cup mayonnaise

½ cup bottled roasted red sweet peppers, drained and finely chopped

¾ cup finely shredded Asiago or Parmesan cheese (3 oz.)

¼ cup thinly sliced green onions

Thinly sliced prosciutto or bacon, cut up and crisp-cooked (optional)

Assorted crackers, pita chips, flatbread, and/or toasted baguette slices

We like either prosciutto or bacon in this dip. Because prosciutto is so thinly sliced, it has a crisper and more delicate texture when cooked than American bacon. Which one you use is up to your preference and what you might have on hand.

1. Preheat oven to 350°F. Place artichoke hearts in a fine-mesh sieve; press with paper towels to remove liquid. Chop artichoke hearts. Set aside.

2. Stack 2 oz. prosciutto or 2 bacon slices; cut crosswise into thin strips and separate pieces as much as possible. In a medium skillet cook and stir prosciutto or bacon over medium heat 2 minutes or until browned and slightly crisp. Add arugula; cook and stir 1 minute. Set aside.

3. In a large bowl stir together sour cream and flour until combined. Stir in mayonnaise and roasted peppers. Stir in ½ cup of the cheese, the green onions, artichokes, and arugula mixture. Transfer to an ungreased 9-inch pie plate. Sprinkle with remaining ¼ cup cheese (if desired, set aside 1 Tbsp. cheese for serving).

4. Bake, uncovered, 30 minutes or until edges are lightly browned and dip is hot in center. Cool 15 minutes. If desired, sprinkle with additional prosciutto or bacon and reserved cheese. Serve dip with crackers, chips, flatbread, and/or baguette slices.

Per serving 157 cal., 14 g fat (5 g sat. fat), 26 mg chol., 324 mg sodium, 4 g carb., 1 g fiber, 1 g sugars, 4 g pro.

Light Asiago-Artichoke Dip Prepare Asiago-Artichoke Dip as directed, except omit prosciutto. Increase arugula to 2 cups and add it in Step 3. Substitute light sour cream for the sour cream and reduced-fat mayonnaise for the mayonnaise. Omit the ¼ cup finely shredded Asiago cheese sprinkled on top. Serve with assorted vegetable dippers.

Per serving 96 cal, 7 g fat (3 g sat. fat), 15 mg chol., 324 mg sodium, 6 g carb, 1 g fiber, 1 g sugars, 2 g pro.

Asiago-Artichoke Dip


1. Aged Asiago, a cow’s-milk cheese from Italy, has a sharp, tangy flavor and texture similar to Parmesan. For best results in the dip, buy a chunk and shred it yourself. Skip the packaged shredded variety.

2. To prevent the dip from becoming watery, drain the artichokes thoroughly before using. Place the rinsed artichokes in a large fine-mesh sieve or colander placed over a bowl. Use paper towels to gently press artichokes, removing as much excess moisture as possible.

3. Make sure you thoroughly mix the flour into the sour cream before you add the remaining dip ingredients. The flour-sour cream mixture binds the dip together during baking and gives it a smooth, creamy texture and appearance.

4. Prosciutto is not easy to cut into small pieces before cooking. Briefly cooking prosciutto before cutting into strips makes the job so much easier. To cook, place whole slices in a skillet over medium heat and cook 2 minutes, turning once. Remove from the pan and let cool until easy to handle. It will crisp as it cools. Then to make cutting really easy, use kitchen shears to cut into bite-size strips.

We love crisp, sturdy baguette slices for scooping this dip. Cut an 8-inch baguette into 36 slices. Arrange slices on two large baking sheets. Brush one side of each slice with olive oil. Broil, one pan at a time, 3 to 4 inches from the heat 2 to 3 minutes or until toasted, turning once.

Skip the oven and Serve it cold!

Prepare dip as directed through Step 2. Let arugula mixture cool 15 minutes before proceeding with Step 3. Omit flour. Combine sour cream, mayonnaise, roasted peppers, ½ cup of the cheese, the green onions, artichokes, and arugula mixture. Cover and chill at least 1 hour or up to 24 hours. If dip thickens when chilled, stir in 1 to 2 Tbsp. milk. Sprinkle with only 1 Tbsp. cheese before serving. Garnish with an additional 1 Tbsp. thinly sliced green onion.

MAKES: 12 servings TESTED BY: Sammy M.

005 Deviled Eggs


Delicious deviled eggs are easy to make if you start with perfectly boiled hard-cooked eggs. The secret is simple: Fresh is not best. Use eggs that are a week old for easiest peeling.—SM

start to finish 25 minutes

6 hard-cooked eggs*

¼ cup mayonnaise or salad dressing

1 tsp. prepared mustard

1 tsp. vinegar

Salt (optional)

Black pepper (optional)

Paprika or fresh parsley leaves (optional)

Size matters, color doesn’t! Eggs come in medium, large, and extra-large sizes. We use large eggs in testing, so the timing in this recipe works best for large eggs. If you use extra-large eggs, let the eggs stand in the boiled water 18 minutes instead of 15 minutes.

1. Cut eggs in half lengthwise and remove yolks. Set whites aside. Place yolks in a small bowl; mash with a fork. Stir in mayonnaise, mustard, and vinegar. If desired, season to taste with salt and pepper.

2. Spoon or pipe the yolk mixture into egg halves. Cover; chill at least 1 hour or up to 24 hours. If desired, sprinkle with paprika or parsley.

*Tip To hard-cook the eggs, place eggs in a single layer in a large saucepan. Add enough cold water to cover eggs by 1 inch. Bring to a full rolling boil over high heat; remove from heat. Cover and let stand 15 minutes; drain. Place eggs in ice water to cool. Drain and peel.

Per serving 72 cal., 6 g fat (1 g sat. fat), 109 mg chol., 62 mg sodium, 0 g carb., 0 g fiber, 0 g sugars, 3 g pro.

If you are particular about how smooth your filling is, push the yolk through a fine-mesh sieve. The sieve creates a very fine-texture yolk to stir into your remaining filling ingredients. If you like a chunkier filling, use a fork to mash to the desired texture.

Bacon and Basil Eggs Prepare Deviled Eggs as directed, except stir 2 slices crisp-cooked and crumbled bacon; 2 Tbsp. chopped tomato; and 1 Tbsp. snipped fresh basil into the yolk mixture. If desired, top with additional crisp-cooked bacon.

Smoked Salmon Eggs Prepare Deviled Eggs as directed, except stir 1 Tbsp. snipped fresh chives into the yolk mixture. Top each egg with strips of lox-style smoked salmon, sour cream, and additional snipped chives.

Mexican-Style Eggs Prepare Deviled Eggs as directed, except substitute Mexican-style sour cream dip for mayonnaise and stir ¼ cup chopped avocado and 1 Tbsp. snipped fresh cilantro into the yolk mixture. If desired, top with additional cilantro, avocado, and chopped fresh jalapeño chile pepper (see tip).

Greek-Style Eggs Prepare Deviled Eggs as directed, except stir 2 Tbsp. crumbled feta cheese, 1 Tbsp. finely chopped pitted Kalamata olives, and 2 tsp. snipped fresh oregano into the yolk mixture. If desired, top with additional chopped olives, crumbled feta cheese, and snipped oregano.

Blue Cheese, Apple, and Walnut Eggs Prepare Deviled Eggs as directed, except stir ¼ cup chopped apple, 1 Tbsp. crumbled blue cheese, and 1 Tbsp. chopped toasted walnuts into the yolk mixture.

Deviled Eggs

MAKES: 16 servings TESTED BY: Sarah B.

006 Chunky Guacamole


The key to great guacamole is perfectly ripe avocados. We buy ours when they’re firm so they don’t bruise on the way from the store—then we let them ripen at for a couple of days before using.—SB

start to finish 20 minutes

⅔ cup finely chopped and seeded roma tomatoes

¼ cup sliced green onions

1 to 2 cloves garlic, minced

2 Tbsp. lime juice

1 Tbsp. olive oil

¼ tsp. salt

⅛ tsp. black pepper

2 ripe avocados, halved, seeded, peeled, and coarsely mashed

Tortilla chips

Some like it hot—to varying degrees! For kicked-up guacamole, stir in one or more of the following: 1 fresh jalapeño chile pepper, seeded and finely chopped; 1 canned chipotle chile pepper in adobo sauce, finely chopped; 1/4 tsp. ancho chile powder; or 1/8 tsp. cayenne pepper.

1. In a medium bowl combine first seven ingredients (through pepper). Gently stir in avocados.

2. Serve immediately or cover the surface with plastic wrap and chill up to 1 hour. Serve guacamole with tortilla chips.

Per serving 48 cal., 5 g fat (1 g sat. fat), 0 mg chol., 39 mg sodium, 3 g carb., 1 g fiber, 0 g sugars, 1 g pro.

ripeness is key Ripe avocados are heavy for their size and feel soft under gentle palm pressure. (Don’t press them with your finger or they’ll bruise.) Avoid avocados that have dark spots on the skin or feel overly soft. If you have hard, underripe avocados, speed-ripen by placing them in a closed paper bag at room temperature up to 5 days. Once an avocado is ripe, you can store it in the refrigerator up to 2 days.


1. To remove seeds from roma tomatoes, cut them into quarters. Use a spoon or your fingers to scoop out and discard the seeds.

2. To remove the avocado seed, cut the avocado lengthwise around
what is bread, sorbet ice cream, chocolate cupcake recipe, malai kofta, lose belly fat, arer than any other boke.

As well as such bold claims of authenticity and brilliance, it struck me that across the centuries the characters making these claims were as strong as the sentiments they expressed. In other words, there is nothing new about chefs today being mad, bad, passionate, obsessive, foodie fanatics. Furious rages echo out of kitchens throughout history, as does a passion for the best ingredients. Just as in the late 1980s Marco Pierre White was throwing the contents of a badly arranged cheese board at the wall of his restaurant, back in 350 bc the Sicilian Archestratus was losing his rag. If you wanted good honey, he said, it was only worth getting the stuff from Attica, otherwise you might as well ‘be buried measureless fathoms underground’. And if you didn’t cook simply and poured sauce over everything, you might as well be ‘preparing a tasty dish of dogfish’ (a fish variety considered as inedible then as its translation reads today).

Just as the passions of chefs, producers and consumers of food have brought the subject of food alive for me over the years, so this book is an investigation into, and a tribute to, the passionate people who have driven its story forward over the centuries. Were it not for a few rampant gourmands like the sauce-loving Apicius who in ad 10 wrote the only surviving cookbook from ancient Rome, or cheese-obsessed Pantaleone da Confienza sniffing his way around the dairies of Europe in the mid fifteenth century, the dim and distant past would be a great deal dimmer and considerably less tasty.

The history of food is coloured by the individuals who enveloped themselves in the subject and who wrote the recipes that help to tell its story. This book is my partisan choice of what I reckon are the 100 best stories: the biggest characters, the occasional culinary villain and some of the most delicious food in history. The recipes range, unashamedly, from the dead simple ancient Egyptian bread to the downright complicated ‘meat fruit’.

It’s a history skewed to what interests me as an English food writer from the early twenty-first century, working in London and living in the English countryside. It’s the story of constant stealing of recipes – from Platina’s pilfering of the works of Martino de Rossi in 1475 to the theft of content from in 2011. It charts the birth, death and early rebirth of British food culture (we’re not quite there yet, but we’re on our way). It follows the rise of consumerism and considers the delights of supermarket convenience versus the well-being of the planet. And it’s the account of the influences of kings, queens, conquistadors, cooks, restaurateurs and greedy pigs like me who live, breathe and talk food and are constantly on the lookout for as good a meal as we can lay our hands on.

William Sitwell

Plumpton, Northamptonshire

March 2012

A note on the recipes

Unusually for a volume entitled A History of Food in 100 Recipes not every one of the ensuing chapters has an actual recipe and neither are they all eminently or indeed easily cookable. My ambition for the book is to take you on a journey where each stop gives you a colourful insight into the food scene of a particular period. Unfortunately in the early stages of this history not all the key players were as diligent in writing down their recipes as a cook might be today. As you’ll discover, for example, there are no Viking recipes, so I’ve relied on evidence from an Icelandic saga, which details the various marauding shenanigans of Grettir the Strong and his rival Atli the Red, who might not have been foodies but surely ate a lot of dried fish. Neither, indeed, is there a recipe for bread in the early stages of English history – we have to wait until the fifteenth century for that. But of course people were eating bread centuries before then, which is why you’ll have to forgive me for instead describing details of the Bayeux Tapestry to provide a glimpse into alfresco pre-battle catering from the eleventh century.

In other words, rather than give a modern interpretation of what someone might have cooked at a particular moment in history, my aim has been to provide an exact contemporary reference. And where I have dug up some ancient method of roasting beef or poaching mussels I haven’t updated it – except to ‘translate’ some of the trickier terms and old spellings – or provided a modern version of the recipe in question. I want you to simply read and enjoy the recipes as they were written down. So, perhaps uniquely, this is not a book where every recipe has been triple-tested, where the ingredients have been tweaked, changed and replaced so you can knock them out after a quick trip to your local supermarket. Denis Papin’s steam-digester-prepared mackerel from the seventeenth century will, I freely admit, be hard to reproduce at home, but then again so will Heston Blumenthal and Ashley Palmer Watts’s bang up-to-date ‘meat fruit’. This may not a recipe book that promises practical cookery, but I hope you nevertheless find it a delicious read …

Chapter 1

Ancient Egyptian bread

1958–1913 BC

AUTHOR: Unknown, FROM: The wall of Senet’s tomb, Luxor, Egypt

Crush the grain with sticks in a wooden container. Pass the crushed grain through a sieve to remove the husks. Using a grindstone, crush the grain still finer until you have a heap of white flour. Mix the flour with enough water to form a soft dough. Knead the dough in large jars, either by hand or by treading on it gently. Tear off pieces of the kneaded dough and shape into rounds. Either cook directly on a bed of hot ashes or place in moulds and set on a copper griddle over the hearth. Be attentive while cooking: once the bottom of the bread starts to brown, turn over and cook the other side.

On the hot, dusty sides of the hill of Sheikh Abd el-Qurna, overlooking the Nile valley near the ancient city of Thebes – now Luxor – you’ll find the discreet and humble entrance to the tomb of Senet. Carved into the limestone mountain, it is one of hundreds of burial chambers in the area. The tombs were the funerary resting places of the nobles, officials who wielded power under the Pharoahs in ancient Egypt.

Painted onto the walls of their tombs are scenes from daily existence that they wished to be replicated in the afterlife. So everything that was pleasant – happy memories, experiences and rituals – is recorded in detail, giving us a clear picture of everyday life 4,000 years ago. There are scenes of hunting, fishing, the harvesting of crops and grapes, feasting and general rural life.

Almost all of the tombs were for men, but Theban tomb number TT60 is the resting place of Senet. Hers is both the only known tomb for a woman dating from Egyptian Middle Kingdom period, between 2055 and 1650, and the oldest burial chamber whose decorated walls have survived in good order. In addition to images of hunting, ploughing and sowing, there are depictions of bread-making. These are so detailed and colourful that those who have seen the wall paintings attest to their overwhelming power. ‘We are,’ wrote Egyptologist Thierry Benderitter on viewing them in the 1970s, ‘in the presence of the exceptional representations of actual cooking in the Middle Kingdom.’

But who was Senet herself? It appears that she was either the wife or mother of Antefoqer, a vizier – the most senior of men who stood between the pharaoh and his subjects – who served both King Amenemhat I and then his son Sesostris I at the start of the Twelfth Dynasty, between 1958 and 1913 BC. That she was accorded her own hypogeum, or private underground tomb, attests to Antefoqer’s importance. Yet the entrance today has no majesty. Less grand than others on the same hill, it now has a brick entrance with a simple wooden door added in 1914 by the English Egyptologist Norman Davies.

Only very few tombs are open to the public. This one is rarely visited – entry being highly restricted – and photography is banned to prevent light damage to the wall paintings. Those permitted access must first manoeuvre past the endless rubble that surrounds the entrance before removing a pile of stones that frequently blocks the actual door in a crude but effective form of security. Once opened, the door reveals a long, narrow and bleak passageway extending into the tomb, its roof descending in height and adding to a sense of compression. The passage leads to a dusty square chamber where there’s a statue of Senet herself, seated; a reconstruction, the sculpture having been found completely fragmented.

Beyond the chamber is another long passageway, but this one is bright with paintings, in colours of ochre, yellow, red and blue. The eye is drawn first to an image of Antefoqer hunting, posing majestically in a simple loincloth, his bow fully extended. Around his neck is an elaborate necklace of blue, green and white, while his wrists are adorned with matching bracelets.

There are images of greyhounds, hippos and beautifully drawn birds: geese, ducks and flamingoes in a bright, sky-blue background. Gazelles and hares are chased by dogs. Birds are netted and fish – so detailed you can tell their variety – are hauled in from a pond. And then halfway down the 20-metre passage, on the right, are scenes of cooking.

There is meat preparation, for instance. Under the cooling protection of an awning, men butcher an ox. They hang pieces of meat on ropes, while others out in the sun tenderise it, tapping it with stones. To their right a man adds a bone to a cauldron of soup with one hand while stirring it with a stick in the other. Another roasts poultry on a skewer over a raised grill, while encouraging the embers with a mezzaluna-shaped fan. It is a hive of activity.

As is a precisely drawn recipe for bread-making, summarised at the top of this chapter. The images were not of course intended to instruct the household cook, but to help the departed soul have some decent, freshly baked bread baked in the afterlife. Yet it is a foundation that has informed bread-making for thousands of years.

The images not only show how flour is prepared from grain, it also records some chatting (deciphered from hieroglyphs) between the characters, painted near some of their heads like speech bubbles. First, two men crush the grain in a wooden container. ‘Down!’ one orders as another replies, ‘I do as you wish.’ Next a woman passes the grain through a sieve to remove the husks, while her female companion grinds the grain even finer using a grindstone. In another image a girl kneads small rolls of dough in her hands, while another adds thin lines of it to some tall conical moulds. Behind the girl a man can be seen placing the conical containers into an oven. He pokes the embers with one hand while protecting his face from the heat with another. But he’s not happy with the state of the logs. ‘This firewood is green,’ he moans.

Meanwhile, another woman can be seen kneading a much larger piece of dough. She leans over a table, pressing and stretching it out. The finished dough is presumably destined for the bakery in an adjacent picture. Here a foreman stands holding a threateningly pointy-ended staff while he encourages his workers. Below him a man on his knees kneads dough and meekly says: ‘I do as you wish, I am hard at work.’ His co-worker carries some dough in a reddish-brown mould towards a hearth where another pokes at the flames. While others are kneading dough by both treading or mixing it by hand, a final character can be seen turning a partially cooked piece of bread, which has turned brown in the hot ashes.

Werner Forman Archive

Egyptian bread-making depicted in a painting on the wall of Senet’s tomb in Luxor.

Bread made in this way was a staple food of ancient Egypt. The world’s earliest loaves show how people had progressed in agriculture and in the techniques of milling, leavening and baking, although we can’t be sure when they learnt to use yeast to help the dough rise and produce a lighter loaf.

It’s likely that the products of this early baking were a little like modern-day pitta bread. A set of beer-making scenes that exist in the same passageway suggests ancient Egyptians were using yeast. It’s needed to turn the sugar to alcohol and even if it was incorporated in its natural state, from yeast spores in the air, it was used at some point in ancient Egypt. Other hieroglyphs in tombs near Luxor show bread being left to rise near ovens, although the detailed scenes of grain being turned to dough in Senet’s tomb do not include this part of the process. Perhaps some dough that had been left for a day rose a little due to the presence of air-borne yeast and the baker enjoyed the resulting, fluffier loaf. (Although it is safe to assume that at that time he would not have understood the science behind the process – fermentation expanding the gluten proteins in the flour and causing the dough to expand.)

As bread- and beer-making often occurred in tandem, it could be, whether by accident or experiment, that some fermented brewing liquor was added to the dough. However, it did occur and using starter doughs (a soft lump from the previous day added to the next morning’s batch) became common practice. The regular use of yeast to make leavened bread is evident, at least, from the Bible – Exodus 12: 34 and 39, to be precise. As the Israelites fled from captivity in Egypt, ‘the people took their dough before it was leavened, their kneading troughs being bound up in their clothes upon their shoulders’. The bread they made subsequently, as Exodus goes on to recount, was not a nice, airy country-style loaf: ‘And they baked unleavened cakes of the dough which they brought forth out of Egypt, for it was not leavened; because they were thrust out of Egypt, and could not tarry, neither had they prepared for themselves any victual.’

Records show that in addition to bread, the ancient Egyptians enjoyed a diet rich in fruit, vegetables and poultry. They used herbs, from cumin to fenugreek, and that scenes of domestic cooking were considered important for the afterlife confirms that it was as vital a part of everyday life then as it is now.

Chapter 2

Kanasu broth

(Meat and vegetable stew)

circa 1700 BC

AUTHOR: Unknown, FROM: The Babylonian Collection

Recipe 23, tablet A, 21 kinds of meat broth and four kinds of vegetable broth. Kanasu Broth. Leg of mutton is used. Prepare water add fat. Samidu; coriander; cumin; and kanasu. Assemble all the ingredients in the cooking vessel, and sprinkle with crushed garlic. Then blend into the pot suhutinnu and mint.

Does the average Iraqi wandering the banks of the Tigris, munching on a minced meat kubbah, realise that he or she is treading a patch of land that 4,000 years ago saw the birth of haute cuisine?

While the Middle Kingdom of ancient Egypt developed some of the rudiments of cooking, Mesopotamia, which occupied the patch between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers, became a gastronomically advanced civilisation. The land was fertile, more fertile than today. Indeed, the people had an extraordinarily diverse diet that featured many kinds of vegetable, including leeks, shallots, garlic, rocket, chickpeas, lentils, lettuce, peas, figs, pomegranates and much more. They ate a huge diversity of cheese, up to 300 different kinds of bread and an amazing variety of soup. A Mesopotamian’s supper of bread, soup and cheese might be rather more sophisticated than our own.

Yale Babylonian Collection

Recipe for Kanasu broth carved on a clay tablet.

We know all this from detailed records. But while today you might sk


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