Louis XV and The Jacquard Chicken

Behold, the HARLEQUIN CHICKEN:

Above, The finished chicken, presented on a faux malachite tray courtesy of my mother.

Originally, I was going to share with you today an image of a chicken from a 1967 House & Garden (reprinted in an issue on "luxury" from September 1998) about a favorite recipe of Louis XV, a truly extravagant chicken that could have passed for op-art, otherwise known as a "Harlequin Chicken."  Despite my intentions, this image never made it into this post, nor even onto my scanner, because at some point while reading, I was suddenly overcome with a feverish NEED to recreate the roaster.

Now, noting that the article offered no guidance for the creation of the bird (other than to say that chefs "hold their breath until the last diamond is put in place"), I can only attribute my infatuation to the odd fact that this struck me as a chicken that LOOKS like a cake, that looks like a chicken.  And what could be splashier at a dinner party than a real bird masquerading as a candy confection mimicking an actual, savory meat dish?!

Louis XV's chefs used boiled and cracked knuckles of veal to create the gelatinous sauce, but (as House & Garden noted in 1967), we now thankfully have lovely packets of gelatin to speed things along.

One Google search for chaudfroid sauce and much experimentation later, I arrived at my own method for making a harlequin chicken, in case you should want to try...

You'll Need:
- 1 small chicken
- 1 3/4 c light cream
- 1 bay leaf
- 8 peppercorns
- 1 TBSP butter
- 2 TBSP flour
- 1 envelope (2 TBSP) gelatin for the sauce
- 1 envelope (2 TBSP) gelatin for the eggplant glaze
- 3 TBSP boiling water
- 1 large eggplant
- salt and pepper to season

What to do:  
1. Roast the chicken in an oven: Pat it dry, remove the innards, truss it, and cook it at 450 degrees for around an hour, uncovered.  Remove, allow to cool, and peel off the skin. Place in refrigerator to chill.

2. Blanche eggplant in a large pot of boiling water, until it's shriveled and soft, around 10 minutes. Set aside to cool. Cut in half lengthwise, scoop out the flesh, scrape the skin clean, and cut the skin (carefully, carefully!!!) into a diamond pattern by scoring with a paring knife. Set pieces aside, discard flesh.

3. Mix the cream, bay leaf, and peppercorns in a small saucepan and heat to boiling, stirring constantly.  Turn off heat and let rest 5 minutes.  Strain liquid into a bowl. In a pan, melt the butter.  Add the flour, stirring into a smooth paste.  Slowly add the cream.  Bring to a boil, reduce heat, simmer 2 minutes.  Put 3 TBSP boiling water in a small bowl and sprinkle with gelatin.  After it's dissolved, stir the gelatin liquid into the cream. Season with salt and pepper.

4. Take out the thoroughly chilled chicken and pour this mixture carefully on top of it.  The goal is to have as thin and even a surface as possible. It might help to have the chicken on the rack and have excess sauce drain into a pan so that it can be reheated. After it's coated, put it back in the refrigerator and chill for around 5-10 minutes, until firm.

5. Repeat this process until the bird is covered in a smooth (or, you know, vaguely smooth) plastic-y layer of aspic béchamel (sounds appetizing, right?). Chill until completely firm. (Side note: does anyone remember those Vivienne Westwood Angolmania banana colored jelly heels with giant black hearts on the toe? For better or worse, the chicken started reminding me of those.)

6. Mix another 3 TBSP boiling water with another packet of gelatin.  Dissolve. Dip the eggplant diamonds into the gelatin mixture (I used a tweezer), coating evenly, and carefully arrange them into a harlequin pattern on the chicken.  At this point, the chicken began to look like it was sporting an argyle sweater:

7.  And finally, fully covered! A word of encouragement- it's not as difficult as you'd think, just leave yourself plenty of time.

All images created, styled, and photographed by (IN)DECOROUS TASTE. Faux malachite serving tray also painted by (IN)DECOROUS TASTE.

Campari and Cope

One of my most insanely gorgeous and exciting purchases was this very old cope (of the ecclesiastical vestment variety). I acquired it on ebay, it shipped from France, and it found me on the hottest day of the summer drinking bitter spritzes.


Anyone who hasn't tried a bitter spritz absolutely needs to. Little bars in Venice serve these drinks by the pitcher, along with salty snacks. Mix: 2 parts prosecco (or other dry sparkling wine), 1 part campari, top with a splash of mineral water and a green olive. For a sweet spritz, replace the Campari with Aperol and add an orange slice instead of an olive. Incidentally, these were probably the reason why it seemed like a good idea to play dress up in the cope, but that's a story for another day.


I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with the cope. My first thought was that the back panel would make a lovely oversized and very Byzantine-inspired pillow complete with fringe, but ultimately, I didn't have the heart to cut it apart.




And then, a eureka moment! The cope fits perfectly on the sofa. It's like it was tailored for it. WHO KNEW.

Hot, Rich and Easy

Get your mind out of the gutter. This isn't about my latest date, it's about spicy chocolate truffles!

Tiffany Dinner Plate, antique Czechoslovakian creamer, cup and saucer.

Alice Waters has a gloriously simple recipe for truffles in her cookbook The Art of Simple Food that, provided you don't scrimp on ingredients, look and taste far more sophisticated than you'd expect for the amount of work involved (none). Feeling prematurely autumnal, I improvised and added freshly ground ginger and various other spices to the recipe. The result was oddly reminiscent of pumpkin pie, and completely delicious. The basic recipe:

1. Melt 1/2 lb of bittersweet chocolate and 10 tablespoons unsalted butter in a double boiler, or else in a heatproof bowl set in a shallow pan of simmering water.
2. Stir in 6 tablespoons heavy cream
3. Refrigerate mixture until firm (several hours) and then scoop out small balls with a melon baller or teaspoon. Roll in cocoa powder.

Store in refrigerator, bring to room temperature before serving.

A few notes: I added around a tablespoon of freshly ground ginger, along with a heap of curry powder, a couple teaspoons cinnamon, and a pinch of cayenne to the mixture along with the heavy cream. In hindsight, it might have been easier just to add a tablespoon or two of pumpkin pie spice... I used an 85% cocoa chocolate bar made for eating, not baking, as the bittersweet chocolate (two of my favorites are Kallari or Vivani, either would work perfectly), and rolled some of the truffles in a mixture of cocoa powder and cinnamon, others in shredded coconut, and others in chopped macadamia nuts.

Indecorous Cake

Am I the only one addicted to that Food Network show "Challenge" where contestants furiously concoct sugary sculptures 3 foot plus in height? As if these wouldn't stand on their own as centerpieces, it's made so much better by the fact that the medium is...cake.

I wonder what happens when the show is over. People can't actually eat the centerpieces. Can they?

Images from Food Network Challenge.