Glace de Viande
It is an old saying that necessity is the mother of invention, a very true saying when it comes to French cookery. So often, the French, famous for their thrifty ways, discover new flavors by making use of scraps or unlikely leftovers. And let us not forget that the French have been hungry to the point of desperation during the three wars their country has suffered in the last hundred years. During the Siege of Paris in 1870, Parisians were actually forced by hunger to eat domestic animals, and some of the finest restaurants in Paris featured on their menus dishes prepared from the animals in the zoo. Small wonder, then, that the French show so much ingenuity in making something out of nothing. Inevitably, glace de viande, a classic example of thrift, must stem from such a background.
The process of making glace de viande, or meat glaze, as it is called in America, is almost as simple as boiling water. Hut this marvelous meat essence, made from the leftovers of the stockpot, is a source of inimitable richness and flavor. Vraiment, it is nearly as miraculous as a silk purse made from a sow's ear. Nor all home cooks consider glace de viande indispensable, possibly because it is not easy to buy and is not usually made in small quantities. But in the opinion of all top-ranking French chefs, it is essential—tout à fail nécessaire—for the best results in fine cooking. The professional chefs will warn you of the folly of trying to match in your kitchen their successes with meat and poultry if you lack a spoonful or two of glace de viande for that last haute cuisine flourish. Glace de viande is as important in bringing out the rich flavors of a subtly blended sauce as a coat of varnish may be to heighten the color of a fine painting.
Anyone who has been in the kitchen of a large French restaurant or hotel has seen the huge stock kettles in which axe simmered gallons of broth to make the various soups and sauces. Alors, when the broth has been used, there remain in these kettles the bones and scraps of meat and vegetables from which one would think all the goodness has been extracted. But no. The French take these odds and ends and literally wring out of them the last vestige of concentrated succulence—the famous glace de viande. They add water to the kettles and simmer the bones and bits of meat and vegetable for about twenty-four hours. This process is easy in a big establishment where steam docs the cooking, and thrifty, too, because the steam is always there, waiting for the turn of the valve. After the long simmering. the stock is strained and conked and concentrated again until it reaches the consistency of a thick brown sauce. Then it is poured into jars or cans, or sometimes into sausage skins, for storage. It can be kept fresh in the refrigerator for months.
Glace de viande is so firm when it is really cold that only a good sharp knife will cut it. but at room temperature it softens quickly. And when you add it to a hot liquid, it melts and combines with the other ingredients very readily.
For many years there was a standard procedure for the making and distribution of glace de viande. Chefs in charge of the kitchens of small exclusive restaurants or large private homes usually bought their glace de viande from luxury food stores whose proprietors purchased it from the kitchens of the large restaurants and hotels. It was customary for the head chef of a large kitchen to permit the chef who made the glace de viande to keep as a sort of pourboire whatever money he got from selling the surplus. The job usually went to the sauce chef, who was in charge of the stockpots.
When I first went to the Paris Ritz, we had so much extra glace de viande to sell that one of my first chores was to make deliveries to the épiceries on the place Etoile. I had to arrive at the hotel two hours early, and at five o'clock on cold, damp winter mornings the ride on the métro was certainly dreary, but I did get a chance to look over the fruits and foreign groceries—so fascinating to the eyes of a country-teared boy—sold in these specialty shops. Everything has its reward, n'est-ce pas?
When I went to the London Ritz, the head chef, Mr. Malley, assigned me, as the new sauce chef, to make the glace de viande. And so I met the chefs from the great London mansions and from the royal palace, too. because they all came to our kitchen for it. I also renewed acquaintance with many an old friend of my Paris days who, like myself, had crossed the Channel to further his career. When I took over the kitchens of the New York Ritz in 1910, I persuaded Mr. Keller, my superior, to adopt the traditional French system of making glace de viande and permitting the chef in charge to sell the surplus. For forty years the bones we discarded from the Ritz kitchens each day had nothing, not even a soupçon of goodness, left in them. And for forty years, until the hotel closed its doors, the fine food stores which supplied the private homes and small restaurants of the neighborhood relied On our kitchen for their glace de viande.
Apparently this custom has gone the way of many other food traditions. Recently a friend, the owner of one of the food stores which has a regular group of customers for glace de viande told me that no hotel in New York is making it, now that the Ritz is closed. This state of affairs, and I think it a sad shame, was unknown during my fifty years of professional life. But my friend has a kitchen for preparing turkeys, hams, hors-d'oeuvre, and other specialties, so I suggested that he make his own meat essence. He lacks the leftover bones of the stock kettle, so he must start with new ingredients, Here is the recipe I wrote down for him:
Glace de Viande
Have enough beef and veal bones with some meal clinging to them and any leftover poultry carcasses that may be available to half fill a large, heavy kettle. For each 10 pounds of bones weigh out 2 pounds of mixed celery stalks and leaves, carrots, and onions Brown the bones lightly in a roasting pan in a hot oven (450° P.), then put them in the kettle with the chopped vegetables. Fill the kettle with unsalted water and simmer the bones and vegetables for 18 to 24 hours. Strain out the bones and vegetables, return the broth to the kettle, and cook until it is reduced to half or less the original quantity. Strain the broth again into a large saucepan, straining this time through a muslin or flannel cloth wrung out of cold water. Continue to cook the broth, stirring frequently, until it is reduced to the thickness of a brown sauce. Put into jars, cool, and store in the refrigerator.
It is possible to make glace de viande in a home kitchen, and there is no substitute for it. However, I find that most people have come to depend upon English beef extract, which is readily available in jars. Although beef extract has a good flavor, it is made from meat alone and does not have the richness and texture which the bones and vegetables impart to glace de viande. The gelatin extracted from the bones, in particular, lends to a sauce a certain distinctive body, the characteristic which the French call “du corps.”
And it is this intangible character, in addition to the color and flavor, which the connoisseur immediately recognizes in foods prepared with glace de viande. Therein lies the reason for its importance in fine cooking. Usually we think of using glace de viande with red meats and in brown sauces, but many poultry dishes profit from its flavor, particularly those with stuffing containing goose liver and truffles. Any really authentic Madeira sauce must include glace de viande, and it is de rigueur in game cookery for the gourmet.
Because it is so highly concentrated, glace de viande should be used sparingly. In fact, too much of it may give a sauce an unpleasantly heavy flavor, as I learned at a very early age when I watched chef Gaunard at the Hôtel du Rhin in Paris. He was preparing lobster à l'armoticaine for a fairly large party of German and Austrian royalty, and he added just one teaspoon of glace de viande to the white wine, tomatoes, and other ingredients for the sauce. When I expressed surprise, he explained that for a lobster sauce the greatest delicacy was required, A little more glace de viande can be used for most meats and poultry—about one to two tablespoons for one cup of sauce.
Some chefs like to make a rosace with glace de viande: they put glace de viande in a small cornucopia or spoon and drop it in a rose pattern on the top of filer of sole or turbot cooked in white wine, just before it is served. It is not necessary to be so elaborate, however, in using glace de viande. There are many simple ways of benefiting from this concentrate, some of them very convenient cookery tricks.
A touch of it can bring to perfection gravy that has too little color or is lacking in flavor.
A tablespoon or two can be added to a cup of hot water to make a fine brown stock; A little will correct the flavor of a soup.
An excellent light consommé base for onion soup is created by mixing one or two tablespoons of meat glaze with a quart of boiling water. Light consomme is right for this purpose because the real flavor of this soup is derived from the onions, For an excellent result, simmer the onions in butter until they are golden brown, then pour the boiling consomme over them.
The greatest success with glace de viande will be achieved if you always remember to mix it first with a little hot liquid—water, broth, Madeira, or whatever yon are using. Then it will combine best with the other ingredients. To make a glaze for cooked meat and poultry, combine glace de viande with an equal amount of hot Madeira and brush it on roast or braised ham, filet of beef, braised sweetbreads, and many oilier dishes to give them a flavorful brown glossiness.
Perhaps you will be lucky enough to find a place where you can purchase glace de viande. But if you cannot buy it, you can without too much difficulty make some in your own kitchen. Once it is made, it will last a long time. After several months a fine white coating may form over the top; it is a harmless sort of mold which has no effect on what is under it, and can easily be washed off with hot water. You will agree that it is worth a little extra time in the kitchen to have on hand something that will add so much to your cookery.