1950s Archive

Classes in Classic Cuisine

Sandwiches, Croûtes and Canapés

Originally Published June 1957

If, when you are abroad and stopping at one of the fine Parisian hotels, you have occasion to order to your room “a couple of ham sandwiches” you have a pleasant surprise in store. Your ham sandwich will probably bear little or no resemblance to the American preparation which bears the same name. It is more likely to look like the ham sandwich which a friend photographed recently in Paris for my benefit and his own amusement. Paper-thin slices of delicately pink ham were arranged meticulously on a magnificent silver platter which sparkled with chopped aspic. Fresh sprays or water cress decorated the ends of the platter, and the narrow edges of far which trimmed each rosy slice lent a while accent. On a second silver dish was a heap of crusty golden-brown rolls. A shell of butter curls and a Quimper pot of montarde de Dijon completed the sandwich—and the picture. “That,” my friend said mischievously. “is a ham sandwich, French style. And it was good—I can still remember how it tasted!”

Of course, sandwiches are hot French in origin. They are supposed to have originated in (England, and they beat the name of Lord Sandwich, that ardent eighteenth-century gambler who was reputedly reluctant to leave the gaming tables long enough to eat. But I believe that there must have been sandwiches, in one form or another, as soon as there was bread. What would be more natural for the workman who could not leave his fields or the woods at noontime than to take with him a juicy piece of meat protected by two pieces of bread? Even today in France this custom is common among the country people.

But it is the Scandinavians—their open—faced sandwiches are infinitely varied in Content and offered in a bewildering assortment-and the Americans who have taken the sandwich to their hearts and made it into an important culinary institution.

Even in France, however, the convenience and usefulness of the sandwich has nut been overlooked. When I was a young apprenti at the Maison Calondre at Moulins, we were frequently called upon to prepare for the grand parties at the châseaux in the neighborhood certain delicacies which might be considered sandwiches. We made these of tiny finger rolls, pains au tail, and with an oblong brioche which we split and filled With pâte de foie gras or caviar. There were tartines, thin slices of bread spread with butter, to serve with oysters or caviar instead of the rolls or bread which might be inconvenient to handle at a buffet. Or the tartines might be topped with thin slices of galantine of capon, or with cream cheese sprinkled with chopped chives, or with thin slices of tomato and water cress. The occasions at which these foods were de rigueur were, I suppose, the forerunners of today's cocktail parties, except that the “cocktails” were tea, coffee, Champagne, Port or or Madeira, and strong flavors or complicated combinations which would have overpowered the fine, subtle wines were not welcome.

Probably as part of their French heritage, hotels in this country which cater to the international set rarely dramatize sandwiches on their menus and customarily offer them only between meals or late in the evening, or as we did at the old Ritz-Carlton, as a convenience at the Men's Bar. But although I cannot imagine a guest at luncheon in, for instance, the beautiful Oval Room, ordering a “ham on rye.” I do understand and sympathize with the American liking for sandwiches. Like any other food worth eating, sandwiches deserve careful preparation.

Bread for Classes in Classic Cuisine sandwiches should be thinly cut. It is difficult to cut very fresh bread neatly, even with the sawing motion of a sharp knife. So sandwiches should be made from bread baked at least twelve hours before it is used. The butter should be creamed until it is soft enough to spread, but it must not be softened by heat. It may be seasoned with a little mustard and customarily is spread on both pieces of bread for the sandwich.

Anyone who has ever glanced at the menu of a typical luncheonette knows that almost anything may—and does—make a sandwich, but the sandwich of cold meat or poultry is probably the most universally popular, so I wish to share with you the secret of making this sort of sandwich taste its best. Use several thin slices of meat, rather than one thick slice, and prepare the sandwich at the last minute. Daintier sandwiches result if the crusts are trimmed off.

Except for picnics and similar occasions, I do not recommend the so-called salad fillings. Which require quantities of mayonnaise to bind them and make them edible. The meat or cheese or other filling should be so succulent in itself that it requites little moistening.

It is interesting to note that in French cuisine bread plays an additional and more important role than that of making sandwiches.

Bread, sliced, toasted, and buttered, is frequently used as a base for eggs and creamed mixtures One such croûte may be made in this way: Cut thick slices of bread into rounds. With a small sharp pointed knife, hollow nut the rounds to make saucer-like shells. Brush the croûtes with melted butter and brown them on a baking sheet in a hot oven.

Another type of croûte is served in onion and other soups. Thick slices are cur from a loaf of French bread and spread with butter, covered thickly with grated Parmesan, and browned under the broiler. Or the prepared croûtes may be floated on the soup and browned under the broiler right in the earthenware bowl.

To make croûtes to serve with soup rather than in it. split crusty French rolls, remove the crumb, and slice the crusts to make curved pieces about ¾ inch wide. Or slice the rolls thin, spread the rounds with butter, and toast them under the broiler, These croûte are frequently served with cream soups.

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