Novel food! Blancmanges with Salmonberry Sauce

I perked up when I spotted the name of a new food blogging event called Novel Food being featured at the blog, The Cooking Adventures of Chef Paz. It intrigued me -- could it possibly call for experimenting with cooking things and stuff mentioned in favorite books, the very same thing a friend of mine has always thought would be a superb idea for a blog post??

Why, yes it could.

My mind instantly raced from one book to another -- I do have a degree in English literature, after all. There are alot of books knocking around in this brain of mine. I tried to settle on a tempting dish I'd read about in a book and thought of ever since, but had never taken the time to cook up on my own. It didn't take me long to make a decision.

I read Little Women for the first time about ten years ago, rather late in life compared to when most everyone else reads it. I tried reading it when I was younger, way back when you're supposed to devour it, but I just couldn't get into it back then -- too quaint, too sugary-sweet. I was more of an Anne of Green Gables kind of a gal. Now that Anne knew how to stir up some trouble.

Upon finally reading and appreciating Little Women in my late 20's I was intrigued by the sound of a little something called a blancmange, the dish Jo uses to befriend her next door neighbor's grandson, Laurie. Saucy little minx.

A blancmange! I'd never heard of such a thing. Was it meaty? Was it sweet? The book didn't really say -- Louisa must have assumed everyone would know what a blancmange was. Perhaps back then everyone was a fan. Maybe everyone except for me knows what a blancmange is! I probably looked it up back then and I might have even thought to myself, "I oughta make that." But I never followed through. It's been there in the back of my mind ever since, waiting for its moment.

According to my friend the Internet, a blancmange is a jellied, molded pudding similar to panna cotta or a flan, made with almonds and milk, served cold and often with a fruit sauce. It dates back to medieval times and was popularized in this country by Thomas Jefferson who discovered it on a trip to Paris.

Allow me to acquaint -- or re-acquaint -- you with the blancmange-y bit of Little Women, filled with wintery goodness and blossoming friendships. How many dishes have the power to spark a friendship? The blancmange did just that...

In Chapter Five of Little Women, Jo heads out into the snow wearing rubber boots, an old sack, and a hood. A garden separates her house from that of the wealthy Mr. Laurence. Both houses are on the edge of the city, in a country setting. Hers is an old brown house, rather bare and shabby. His is "a stately stone mansion, plainly betokening every sort of comfort and luxury, from the big coach house and well-kept grounds to the conservatory and the glimpses of lovely things one caught between the rich curtains."

I'll let Louisa take it from here:

Yet it seemed a lonely, lifeless sort of house, for no children frolicked on the lawn, no motherly face ever smiled at the windows, and few people went in and out, except the old gentleman and his grandson.

To Jo's lively fancy, this fine house seemed a kind of enchanted palace, full of splendors and delights which no one enjoyed. She had long wanted to behold these hidden glories, and to know the Laurence boy, who looked as if he would like to be known, if he only knew how to begin. Since the party, she had been more eager than ever, and had planned many ways of making friends with him, but he had not been seen lately, and Jo began to think he had gone away, when she one day spied a brown face at an upper window, looking wistfully down into their garden, where Beth and Amy were snow-balling one another.

"That boy is suffering for society and fun," she said to herself. "His grandpa does not know what's good for him, and keeps him shut up all alone. He needs a party of jolly boys to play with, or somebody young and lively. I've a great mind to go over and tell the old gentleman so!"

The idea amused Jo. who liked to do daring things and was always scandalizing Meg by her queer performances. The plan of `going over' was not forgotten. And when the snowy afternoon came, Jo resolved to try what could be done. She saw Mr. Lawrence drive off, and then sallied out to dig her way down to the hedge, where she paused and took a survey. All quiet, curtains down at the lower windows, servants out of sight, and nothing human visible but a curly black head leaning on a thin hand at the upper window.

"There he is," thought Jo, "Poor boy! All alone and sick this dismal day. It's a shame! I'll toss up a snowball and make him look out, and then say a kind word to him."

She ends up going over for a visit armed with three kittens and a blancmange made by Meg, her specialty:

"That looks too pretty to eat," he said, smiling with pleasure, as Jo uncovered the dish, and showed the blancmange, surrounded by a garland of green leaves, and the scarlet flowers of Amy's pet geranium.

"It isn't anything, only they all felt kindly and wanted to show it. Tell the girl to put it away for your tea. It's so simple you can eat it, and being soft, it will slip down without hurting your sore throat. What a cozy room this is!"

I love how Jo bustles around the room, sweeping the hearth and straightening things on the mantel and plumping pillows and turning the couch just so in the light, putting books and bottles away. Laurie is just as pleased as I always am by how you can transform a room by sprucing things up just a little. People appreciate it.

I decided on using this recipe at epicurious, Blancmanges with Raspberry Sauce. Unfortunately, I needed six ramekins to shape the jellied pudding in but I'm down to two -- my husband keeps breaking them, and so I wasn't sure what to prepare my blancmanges in. I thought about chilling the pudding altogether in a large jello mold that takes up space in the back of my cupboard. But then I remembered I have a stack of small, simple, white bowls in the back of another cupboard and pulled those out to serve as molds.

The recipe calls for making almond milk -- a first for me. I couldn't find the whole blanched almonds called for in the recipe, so I used slivered blanched almonds instead. I think that was a stroke of luck because they were easier to grind up in a food processor than whole almonds would have been. You grind milk and almonds together until thickened, pour the paste into a kitchen towel, and then twist and wring it until you've extracted all the almond milk. Add a dash of almond extract.

Instead of raspberries I used some of the salmonberries I picked a month or so ago.

Look at those beauties! I've been dreaming about them ever since the day I picked them. I've had them tucked away in the freezer, waiting for just the right recipe to come along.

Salmonberry syrup:

The color is heavenly and it smelled divine. And the taste... don't even get me started on the taste.

Here's one of my blancmanges:

Sitting next to a scarlet red geranium in a nod to Ms. Alcott.

The combination of the tart yet sweet berries and the delicately almond-flavored pudding is just amazing. And so pretty!

Blancmanges With Salmonberry Sauce

Serves six

1 1/2 c blanched whole or slivered almonds (about 8 oz)

1 1/2 c milk

1/8 t almond extract

2 t unflavorored gelatin

2 T cold water

1/2 c sugar

1 c well-chilled heavy cream

About one quart of salmonberries or two 10-ounce packages of thawed frozen raspberries in syrup (do not drain)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Lightly oil six 1/2 c ramekins.

Spread almonds in a shallow baking pan and toast in oven until pale golden, about 7 minutes. Cool completely.

In a food processor, process almonds and milk for 2 minutes or until mixture is very thick but not completely smooth.

Rinse a thin kitchen towel in cold water and wring out as much water as possible. Spread towel over a large bowl and pour almond mixture into towel. Wrap tightly and squeeze about one cup of almond milk from towel into bowl. Discard almonds. Stir almond extract and a pinch of salt into almond milk.

In a small bowl, sprinkle gelatin over the two tablespoons of water and let stand for one minute.

In a small saucepan, combine almond milk and sugar. Cook over medium heat, stirring until sugar is dissolved. Add gelatin mixture and cook, stirring, until gelatin dissolves. Place saucepan in a large bowl of ice and cold water to cool, stirring constantly, just until the consistency of raw egg white. Remove from ice water.

In a bowl with an electric mixer, beat cream until it hold stiff peaks. Whisk about one fourth of the cream into the almond mixture, then gently fold in remaining cream. Spoon into ramekins. Cover with plastic wrap and chill for at least two hours or up to 24 hours until set.

In a blender or food processor, puree berries with syrup and force through a fine sieve into a bowl. Sauce may be made 1 day ahead and chilled, covered.

Fill a small bowl with very hot or boiling water and dig ramekins into it one at a time for 10 seconds to listen pudding. Unmold each blancmange onto a dessert plate and serve with sauce.

Comments

[Pille]

Mmm. I've tried all kind of berries, but no salmonberries. Sulk. They're simply not available here - so I must settle for drooling over your blancmange and salmonberry sauce picture instead:)

[Lisa]

Oh, Molly, you can't know how delighted I am with this! First: My father, who was born in Seattle and had grandma and aunts in Vancouver, used to talk about blancmange when I was a kid. His mother, who died when he was young, made it for him, and he always remembered it (and her) as an angelic thing. This would have been during the 1920s.

Second: I ADORED Little Women when I was a kid. I read it numerous times when I was grade-school age, then a friend got me a "deluxe" edition in junior high. I loved reading your excerpts and hearing about the book again.

Third: Your blancmange is gorgeous! It IS very like panna cotta, isn't it? I used to assume that it was basically vanilla pudding. Mais, non!

Sighing over here. Thank you so much for taking part in "Novel Food."

[Simona]

This is totally lovely! I read Little Women when I was a kid. I actually read Piccole Donne, since at that time I knew no English. In any case I liked it and especially liked Jo. I have never had salmonberries. It looks like you found a great way of using the ones you picked.

[molly]

Cool -- thanks for visiting, you two, and for thinking up this event!

[Maryann]

Oh my! those berries are the most beautiful I have ever seen! Really! Wonderful post :)

[Paz]

Oh, wow! This is awesome! Now I know what Blancmanges is. Yours looks delicious!

Paz