I have promised myself to try every recipe from Science in the Kitchen and the Art of Eating Well (1891) and this weekend is dedicated to Sand cake. This is a German cake with an even lovelier name in Italian: Pane di sabbia. Like everything that is singed by Pellegrino Artusi, it turned out fantastic - and only when half of the cake was gone did I browse the work of Henriette Davidis, Germany's no. 1 cookbook author. (Alongside Pellegrino & Magdalena Dobromila Rettigová, she is the most reliable source of 19th century recipes that are easy to prepare in a modern kitchen.)
Not surprisingly, Artusi's version of Sand cake is much more economical both in terms of ingredients and preparation. For one thing, all of his recipes were made to serve a handful of people and for another, he deliberately avoided extravagance - using a minimum of butter, sugar and eggs and hardly any cream or alcohol (excluding his favorite Marsala wine and Italian liqueurs). The recipe for Sand cake as featured in the newest editions of his popular cookbook is this:
Burro fresco, grammi 185. Zucchero a velo, grammi 185. Farina di
riso, grammi 125. Farina d'amido, grammi 125. Farina di patate, grammi
60. Uova, n. 4. L'agro di un quarto di limone. Cognac, una cucchiaiate.
Bicarbonato di soda, un cucchaiano. Odore di vaigniglia.
La farina d'amido non è altro che l'amido comune di buona qualità ridotto in polvere fine. Lavorate prima il burro da solo, poi aggiungete i rossi ad uno ad uno, girando il mestolo sempre per un verso; indi versate lo zucchero, poi il cognac e l'agro di limone; dopo le farine e, per ultimo, il bicarbonato di soda e le chiare montate; ma di quest'ultime versatene prima due cucchiaiate per rammorbidire il composto, e mescolate adagio il restante. Versate il composto in una teglia proporzionata, unta col burro e spolverizzata di zucchero a velo e farina, e cuocetelo in forno o nel fomo da campagna, a moderato calore. Un'huora di cottura potrà bastare."
In the introductory notes for this German recipe, Pellegrino warned female readers that, in order to prepare this dessert, they must be willing to slave for at least two hours in the kitchen. Luckily, electric mixers have simplified the business for us modern housewives although it's still necessary to carefully follow Artusi's instructions because Sand cake is not just any Pound cake.
The same technique (beating yolks one by one, alternately with sugar, into the butter, then folding in starch and meringue) was recommended by Davidis. A great difference between the Italian and German recipes is that Sandtorte uses much more butter than Pellegrino's version. Look at the extract from Henriette's best-seller Pracktisches Kochbuch (1845):
500 Gramm geklärte Butter wird nach Vorschrift zu Sahne gerieben; alsdann gibt man 10 Eigelb und 250 Gramm Zucker hinzu, und zwar immer abwechselnd 1 Eigelb und etwas Zucker, und schlägt die Masse 1 Stunde. Dann vermischt man 500 Gramm Kartoffelmehl, 6 zu Schnee geschlagene Eiweiß, ½ Teelöffel gestoßene Muskatblüte, das Abgeriebene einer Zitrone, und 1 Gläschen Rum damit, füllt die Masse in eine mit Butter ausgestrichene Form, backt sie langsam, glasiert sie mit Zuckerguß und verziert sie mit eingemachten Früchten."
A chocolate version on the same page was much more intensely flavored:
20 Eidotter, 15 Eiweiß, 625 Gramm gesiebter Zucker, 250 Gramm gesiebte Schokolade, 250 Gramm gesiebte Stärke, 75 Gramm fein geschnittenes Zitronat, 2 Gramm Zimt, ein Stückchen mit Zucker gestoßene Vanille. Die Eidotter schlägt man mit Zucker, Zitronat und Zimt ¼ Stunde, schlägt dann die Schokolade mit dem sehr steifen Schaum von 15 Eiern und danach die Stärke hinzu. Sobald alles gut verrührt ist, rührt man ½ Tasse Franzbranntwein durch. Man backt ihn wie Sandtorte und glasiert ihn mit Zuckerguß."
Science in the Kitchen and the Art of Eating Well features a similar chocolate torta, which is more of a dessert than a coffee or tea accompaniment.
Let me note once more that when nineteenth century people talked of dessert, they meant lots of sugar - and if chocolate cake was in question, you had to expect a fair amount of bitterness. It does sound weird for a contemporary food-lover but it's not. Until quite recently, dessert was eaten on special occasions and lifestyle was such that people burnt all of the extra calories in less than a day. Furthermore, luxury goods, including sugar and cocoa, were originally recorded as spices in Europe. Sugar was appreciated for its vaguely intoxicating aroma, cocoa for its bittersweet taste.
Another difference between Pane di sabbia and Sandtorte lies in texture: eating the first, particularly if made with rice flour, is like eating sand but eating the second reminds of those chocolate mousse cakes and might even be used as the (ideal) base for homemade chocolate truffles. Whatever the case, both Pane di sabbia and Sandtorte are/should be crumbly.
Frederick Barbarossa, Holy Roman Emperor, as crusader (1188 miniature)
Finally, a word about Pellegrino's idea of German cuisine: even though he used international names for some of his recipes that might or might not actually be foreign, he was perfectly aware of international trends. A number of recipes from Science in the Kitchen and the Art of Eating Well had been slightly adapted from English, German and French originals and frequently introduced to Artusi's readers with an entertaining story about the relevant peoples. He did not have much to say about Germans (then Prussians) - except that they came down to Italy on two occasions: first, as uncivilized conquerors and later, on the pretext of ending the Investiture Controversy, which made them slightly less horrible. (The subsequent quarrels that lasted until Pellegrino's own time, were between Italy & Austria.) War and politics aside, he was always ready to mock German casseroles but quite fond of German desserts, including Sand cake. And even though I look for historic recipes at the original source, I confess being partial to Artusi's simplified versions - not least because of his known predilection for healthy eating: basic ingredients, freshly prepared meals, tiny portions, and little or no use of those extras which make a dish calorific.
Comments