Jeudi Gras

The end of Lent – not that I have kept it in any way at all – maybe a good moment for my first post on food and cooking, especially as it is about fat, and specifically about the virtues of fat.  Jennifer McLagan’s Fat is apparently determined to put the case for fat, and although I haven’t read it, the reviews (eg, one by Alex Renton in The Times recently) were enough to make me want to write something.  (The two photographs are from blogs which know much more about food than this one - follow the links in the next two paragraphs).

The avoidance of fat has always seemed to me a foolishly exaggerated trend; of course, too much of it is both unhealthy and unattractive from a culinary point of view.  But often, fat is where the flavour is; lean meat is dead, tasteless – and therefore often dressed up with salt and flavour enhancing chemicals.  Your succulent restaurant steak is succulent because it has a marbling of fat in the meat.  The best chips are fried in beef fat, so I’m told.  A whole European tradition of charcuterie is testament to this obvious truth which we seem to have wilfully forgotten.

There are some things which have passed away from cooking unmourned because not understood.  My mother used to enjoy bread and dripping (admittedly in the war, when nourishment was harder to come by), which I believe it was a traditional energy rich and very tasty snack.  Certainly the dripping from the joint was saved and used for cooking breakfast.  And if you are so old fashioned as to make steamed puddings, just try making them with the suet freshly broken off from pig’s kidneys from your local butcher, assuming you’re lucky enough to have such a thing: it’s a revelation in taste and texture.  And potatoes roasted in goose fat, not olive oil – aahh!  But one thing is making a comeback – some recent research suggests that butter may not be the instant killer we have feared, which has to be good news, for who could prefer margarine?

And what is Jeudi Gras, or Fat Thursday?  Apparently, it’s an end of Lent festival in Bordeaux, marked by a procession of the fattest cattle, and the eating of the Bazadaise beef, red and yellow with meat and fat.  So, moderation in all things, but try buying the less lean steak or roast, and keep and use the dripping!

Comments

[glo]

I knew I wouldn't be able to agree with you about meat and fat! But these buddies do:
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/earth/earthpicturegalleries/5154139/The-four-types-of-Bengal-tiger.html
Isn't that portrait gallery stunning? Please focus on the Golden Tabby and the Royal White; there are respectively only 30 (thirty!) and 12 (twelve!) of them left in the whole world! What a pity!

What you say would have sounded even more provoking ten months ago but it is quite common in this credit crunch times to find such articles and opinions in newspapers. We are now back to traditions and essentials, we are encouraged to save everything we can and to make the most of what we have. Whereas the future is uncertain, such behaviour must be quite reassuring, I assume.

And finally, about Jeudi gras.
Mardi gras (Fat Tuesday) is the last day of the Carnival, Lent always begins on a Wednesday (mercredi des Cendres, Ashes' Wednesday in English?). Jeudi gras is the Thursday before Mardi gras, ie six days before Lent. The last week of Carnival was traditionally full of celebrations and parties and dinners and public events of all kind. The procession mentioned in The Times article is probably one of them but I never heard of it. Lent being a period of time when meat is not allowed (Carnival=carnem levare), it makes sense to celebrate with a fat cattle.
And by the way, Goldoni wrote a play whose title is "One of the last days of the Carnival". For more details, you can look at it.

[Cornflower]

Your point about roasting potatoes in goose fat is well made, Lindsay, but - and I hesitate to reveal this here - I recently made Yorkshire puddings and put the batter into sizzling olive oil rather than dripping (in order to accommodate our vegetarian) and the results were superb!
(You can go to the foot of our stairs, if you like...)