October 21, 2014

Babos Receptai (Part 3)

My paternal Grandmother, Tatjana, was a Russian aristocrat. Her father, Pavel, served as one of Tsar Nicholas II's regional governors (Pavel also was a friend of Tolstoy's, but I'll leave that story for another day). Pavel was working in Omsk when Tatjana was born. Later, he served in Tambov. When the Russian Revolution erupted, the Bolsheviks executed Pavel and (we believe) one of Tatjana's brothers.

Tatjana's aristocratic roots crept through many corners of her life. She was proud of her lineage, and she drew sharp lines about what sort of behavior was appropriate for descendants of the noble class. For instance, before I went on my first "date" (an afternoon, picnic outing to Brookfield Zoo), she observed that only a prostitute would hold hands with a man in public.

Tatjana also, like other Russian aristocrats of her era, admired and monkeyed French culture. She insisted, for example, that I learn the French language, and she fluidly quoted French novels and poetry. Tatjana often spoke of Catherine the Great's mastery of French culture. Many years after Tatjana died, I worked with a fellow whose grandparents (or possibly great-grandparents) had found exile in Paris after the Russian Revolution. His experience made me wonder whether Tatjana wouldn't have been happier living in France.

Tatjana's love of French culture, however, did not influence her cooking. French food was rarely on the menu. The only French item Tatjana sometimes made was Pâte à Choux. When Tatjana made choux pastry, she usually filled the puffs with Jell-O Cook & Serve Vanilla pudding (because instant pudding is for unaccomplished cooks). When she made the filling from scratch, she used this recipe: 


Cooked Cream for "Petit Schout"
                        and for Napoleon

Melt one stick of butter with 2-1/2-3 tablespoons flour. Gradually pout in 1 cup milk and 1 cup half-and-half. Cook, mixing constantly (like you would for a white sauce), until everything is heated through and cooked.

Beat together 3 egg yolks with 3/4 cup sugar. Slowly mix this with the cooked cream mixture, and cook again, as you would ice cream, just until the mixture starts to show blisters. Then cool the mixture over ice, mixing well, and then adding vanilla, or orange rind, or almond extract.

[At the bottom of the page—in lighter colored ink—Tatjana added the recipe for the choux pastry:] 

Slowly heat 1 stick of butter and 2 spoonfuls (tablespoons) sour cream with 4-1/2 cups flour. Mix until the dough starts to hold together. Remove from heat and, mixing with your hands, divide the mixture into six pieces. Place in the refrigerator, then back at 400oF until the pieces are cooked through.

4 comments:

edutcher said...

I noticed some of that Russian affinity for French culture reading "War And Peace".

Interesting how drawing the lines between the nobility and the peasants over there could sometimes translate
to the difference between nice people
and riff raff here.

PS Monkeyed?

As in aped?

Irene said...

Yes; I used that verb deliberately. "Monkeyed" is a family substitute for "aped."

edutcher said...

Interesting, monkeyed usually means wasting one's time on something or someone, but it does sound nicer.

Irene said...

It's a direct translation from the Lithuanian.