The Bearded Scribe is, first and foremost, a writing blog. We deal in every kind of speculative fiction there is…and every once in awhile, an opportunity arises for an unconventional post. Such was the case a few weeks ago, when I was sitting in a parking lot, cruising Twitter on my phone while waiting for a choir rehearsal to start, and ran across a tweet from our good friend Cidney Swanson. Cidney, it seems, is writing a cookbook based on her Ripple Trilogy. This tidbit of information piqued my interest right away, because when I’m not writing, I love to cook—and when I was reading the Ripple Trilogy, the food descriptions made me hungry. Intrigued, I tweeted Cidney back asking (half-jokingly) if she needed a recipe-tester. She replied that there remained only one untested recipe: Sir Walter’s Cassoulet, a decadent French dish that requires hours and hours of prep. If I was interested, she would send the recipe. Was I interested? Did she even have to ask? Soon the recipe was in my inbox and I had a new mission. And not only was this an unconventional mission, but a post that will serve as the first in a new feature on The Bearded Scribe, a feature which will take various food and drink recipes found in speculative fiction literature and test them out... Do you dare venture with us into The Speculative Gourmet?
The first thing I noticed when I read it was that Cidney was not kidding about hours and hours of prep. The recipe was five pages long! Cassoulet is a layered casserole, but, according to Sir Walter’s notes, each layer is a dish unto itself. The second thing I noticed was that I would need a small army to eat it. With this in mind, I invited three close friends for a dinner party on my next day off and began my quest.
|Salt Pork, Bacon, & Onions|
|Herbs in Tea Ball|
|Salt Pork, Bacon, & Liquid|
Cooked & Separated
The next part was cooking the pork, which was quite easy. Pork roasts were a staple in my house growing up, so they were one of the first things my mom taught me to cook. A little salt and pepper and some water to keep it moist, and into the oven it went for an hour and a half. I’d been a little intimidated by this recipe at first, but I was starting to hit my culinary stride. With pork, beans, and bacon done and just two components to go, my intimidation started to melt away.
With kitchen cruise control on, I grabbed a cup of coffee, took a sip, kicked back to look at the next stage of the recipe…and almost had a coronary. Somehow I had managed to forget that I had to cook lamb. Lamb is expensive, and I’ve never even bought it before, much less cooked it. I need not have worried, though, because Sir Walter’s notes on the subject were very thorough. Draining the coffee cup, I headed back to the kitchen.
Here, I had to take some necessary liberties for the sake of practicality and money. The recipe called for a cut of lamb with no bones to be sliced into cubes and browned in duck fat. To save a little money, I bought a shoulder roast of lamb and had my wonderful father (who was visiting) butcher the bones out for me. Since I could not find duck fat at my grocery store, I substituted extra-virgin olive oil. After sautéing the lamb chunks, I removed the meat from the pan and sautéed onions in the juice from the lamb. These onions, along with some tomatoes, wine, stock, and herbs, became a sauce in which the browned lamb pieces took a long, luxurious bath, making my whole apartment smell delicious. I regret that the scratch-and-sniff computer screen has not yet been invented, because the aroma was heavenly. It was still a couple hours before my friends would arrive, but my mouth was already starting to water.
cassoulet is a lot like assembling lasagna: Beans, bacon, pork, lamb, sausage, repeat. Over the final layer of beans went a layer of seasoned bread crumbs. Sir Walter said to put melted duck fat on the bread crumbs, so here again I deviated from the recipe slightly. I used butter, because duck fat was unavailable and you really cannot go wrong with butter. After putting the assembled cassoulet into the oven for final baking, I chilled with my friends for a couple hours while it baked. When it came out of the oven, we sat down to a feast. Although the cassoulet recipe made enough to feed small army, there were no leftovers, and we all had room for dessert of crème brûlée generously provided by my friend, Jenny.
My speculative dinner party was a huge success. My friends and I talked and laughed and ate for hours, and when we finished, they proclaimed me a kitchen goddess. All the credit, though, goes to Cidney and Sir Walter for sharing the recipe. If you’re going to try this at home (and I hope you do), I suggest having a huge bunch of friends who are willing to eat, and a lot of patience. It was a long day of cooking, but as Sir Walter said in his recipe notes,
“The preparation of cassoulet is, as with the preparing of any great meal, foremost an act of love.”