A Monte Cristo served with Candied Figs

I’ve been reading a classic and it inspired me to create this sandwich-The Monte Cristo. Can you guess the title of the book?
Well, this hybrid croque-monsieur, (also known as the grilled cheese with ham) calls for butter-frying the white bread in an egg batter, similar to french toast; it is a decadent treat that pairs salty, savory with sweet. It is joined with jam or preserves and sometimes sprinkled with a bit of powdered sugar! I opted for a candied fig garnish and no powdered sugar. If you love hot, satisfying sandwiches, this ones for you!

Voilà, a Monte Cristo

Voilà, a Monte Cristo


This recipe makes 3 sandwiches, adjust as needed.

For the sandwich:

  • 6 Slices of White Bread
  • 1/4 pound of roasted turkey, thin slices
  • 1/4 pound Honey Ham or Regular Ham, thin slices Slices
  • A wedge of Gruyère cheese

For the candied fig side garnish:

  • 4 figs
  • Several tablespoons of sugar
  • Triple Sec or orange juice

Batter:

  • 2-3 whole eggs

Preparation:

  • Preheat oven to 300 Farenheit or 150 Celsius
  • Gently cut figs into small wedges
  • Crack eggs into bowl and whisk to a blended consistency
  • Make the sandwich: Ham, Turkey and slices of cheese; Set aside next to batter.

Making the Candied Figs:

  • put several large tablespoons of sugar into a pan add a few splashes of water then set on stove top on medium temperature.
  • Caramelize the sugar.

    Sugar to Caramel

    Sugar to Caramel

  • Add figs and stir them around to get them evenly coated.
  • Add a few splashes of triple sec and reduce heat to low-medium heat.

    Caramelizing the Figs, Adding the Triple Sec

    Caramelizing the Figs, Adding the Triple Sec

  • Allow to reduce and thicken for a few minutes then remove the pan from heat.IMGP2318

Making the Monte Cristo

  • Heat a skillet on the stove at medium to high temperature, adding a liberal chunk of salted butter.
  • Dip the Sandwich whole into the batter, coating bottom and top slices of bread in egg.

    Yes, The Bread Goes Into Yolk!

    Yes, The Bread Goes Into Eggs!

  • When the skillet is hot and the butter is just beginning to brown, place the drenched sandwich into the skillet.

    Great Frying Cristo!

    Great Frying Cristo!

  • Fry each side for several minutes. Repeat for the remaining 2.
  • Remove sandwich from skillet and place on a middle rack in the oven for 5-7 minutes to get a nice crunchy and melty texture.

Serve the Monte Cristo as a Sandwich in two portions and dress the sides of the plate with the candied fig garnish. Don’t be a stranger to the figs; dip your Monte right into the sauce- it’s boss!

Fin!

Fin!

The Count of Monte Cristo, A Fried Sandwich and Hashish

The Monte Cristo, a fried and golden thing; glorious is its taste, this egg battered ham sandwich, this melty Gruyère cheese christened and jam preserve garnished trifle; tis’ savoury and sweet with richness that only by counting its calories can tell …Ah, bliss be the ambrosia sent from gleaming rays into our crackling frying pans!
Pardieu!
I was carried away- right into the kitchen again! Let me put down the whisk and the egg, place the ham hock back in the fridge and start afresh. (Though, I shall be returning to this sandwich in a later post!)
The Count of Monte Cristo, first published in 1844, by the author, Alexandre Dumas, a man-made famous for his daring and politics but also by the creation of the d’Artagnan romance novels, (Three Musketeers being the first) is a tail of tragedy and betrayal that turns into a plundering, romp of riches, extravagance and harrowing acts of honor and valour.
As I am not finished with this tomb of over 800 exciting pages, I cannot concluded a synopsis. Instead of this, I will give to you some exciting excerpts and quotes I’ve dredged up from these daring depths: Dumas supposed feelings and advocacies of the illicit recreational drug hashish, synthesized marijuana.
(Dumas, Alexandre. The Count of Monte Cristo. Ware [England: Wordsworth Editions, 1997. Print.)

p.226 as spoken by the Count of Monte Cristo disguised under the appellation, Sinbad the Sailor:

“…-judge but do not confine yourself to one trial. Like everything else, we must habituate the sense to a fresh impression, gentle or violent, sad or joyous.”

“There is a struggle in nature against this divine substance- in nature which is not made for joy and clings to pain. Nature subdued must yield in the combat, this dream must succeed to reality, and then the dream reigns supreme, then the dream becomes life, and life becomes the dream. But what changes occur! It is only by comparing the pains of actual being with the joys of the assumed existence, that you would desire to live no longer, but to dream thus forever. When you return to this mundane sphere from your visionary world, you would seem to leave a Neapolitan spring for a Lapland winter- to quit paradise for Earth- heaven for hell! Taste the hashish guest of mine- taste the hashish.”

“A grateful world to the dealer in happiness”

The Count of Monte Cristo

The Count of Monte Cristo

Part 2 to come! Till next time and adieu!

Dumas and the Repast of the Bastille

A great story is a great story; It’s almost as simple as that but what strikes me every time with Dumas and his writing style, (beside is his skill for dramatics and grand adventure) is the repasts he serves up. His detail of a sumptuous feasts, cellars of wines, sweet meats and grand fetes; all are are seamlessly woven into all of his novels; almost like embroidering streaks of delicious silver and gold into a grand tapestry. As a cook and a reader, this, for me is tops.
Let me give you one great example I read just the other day in, The Man in the Iron Mask-it is a repast that was being held at the Bastille of all places:

“He had a guest to-day and the spit turned more heavily than usual. Roast partridges flanked with quails and flanking a larded leveret*; boiled fowls; ham fried and sprinkled with white wine; cardons of guipuzcoa** and la bisque écrevisse***: these together with the soups and hors-d’oeuvre, constituted the bill of fare.”

All pictures belong to their respective authors.

*A leveret is a hare that is less than a year old.

**Guipuscoa is a province of spain and part of the Autonomous region of the Basque country; a cardon is a plant that is similar to a cactus. (Can anyone help me out here-I’m a bit at a loss myself.)

***A crawfish bisque: http://www.tabasco.com/tabasco-recipes/recipe/4223/crawfish-bisque/ (Where better to find a good crawfish dish than Louisiana; from Tabasco hot sauce, here is there recipe.

http://www.essentiallycatering.co.uk/recipes/Roasted-Partridge-with-Game-Chips/

http://www.thekitchn.com/ingredient-spotlight-lardons-79578

Smokey Mountains

Smokey Mountains

 

The Man in the Iron Mask, Alexandre Dumas (Part 1)

I hate to do this, to my reader and myself and I ask to be forgiven but due to an Amazon based blunder, I’m forced (by curiousity and severe listlesness) to read the last of the d’Artagnan Romances before its due time! This delivery error has postponed my copy of Louise De Valliere and since the chain of post and letters don’t cease from day to day (except, perhaps sundays and observed government holidays.)-I recieved my copy of The Man in the Iron Mask on its date. I couldn’t bring myself to let it sit on the shelf while I waited empty handed for the other. I began, reluctantly, page after book-closing page, cringing at my own impatience but filled with excitment like a child whose torn open his long awaited christmas gifts on the eve. And thus I begin to devoure this grand finale…

Who is this man in the mask?

Who is this man in the mask?

At the halfway mark, the most publicized of Dumas’s work shines as bright as it has been extolled. The plot has been juiced and there is enough intrigue, fated love, treason, valour and shame to still the rest of previous serious with a bated and heavy breath!

Aramis has never aimed higher in his intentions and designs-so high in fact, anything else would be fit only for god itself to deign. The inner-machinations of this phantom-shadow titled the Bishope of Vannes are found everywhere, entangling all in woven nets and casting lines including the Surintendant of Finances, Focquet, M. Baisemeaux, the Governer of the Bastille to the scrambling and coniving bushy-browed Colbert who trails the heels of the King like a dog for a carress. Porthos, the gentle, amiable giant has been relagated to follow Aramis about as a funny, diverting departure between the dramas that surround.

D’Artagnan has never been more firm with a king-in his dotage he presses the young Louis XIV to hold his integrity; to keep his hat pressed firm and to wear his nobility as proudly and as righteously as the  the most illustrious in a trying and scandalous time. Our man d’Artagnan is oft sought for advice as he posses, “incarnate wisdom.” and knows the gossip of the royal court like his sword arm.

Athos is summoned to challenge the integrity of Louis XIV, risking the Bastille and life-blood to brand a chivalarous code of ideals on the walls of the palace with his passionate and supremely rational sermon. On behalf of his son, The Vicomte, Raoul and the royal blood of his ancestors, his name, he stands against the king in the chapter title, King and Nobility. The king is brought to face, by Athos, his cowardly underhanded and usurping deeds against the sacredness that is the engangment of marriage that lay between Raoul and his cast-away, ex-bride to be, Louise De Valliere. Raoul reflects darkly, “The King has betrayed me, the women disdained me. Miserable, unhappy wretch that I am!” At the climax of the dialogue between Athos and Louis the XIV regarding the trampled state of affairs, he unwaveringly seeks ammends: “The King’s honour, sire, is made up of the honour of his whole nobility. Whenever the King offends one of his gentlemen, that is, whenever he deprives him of the smallest particle of his honour, it is from him, from the King himself, that that portion of honour is stolen.”

P. 130, “‘Poor Raoul!” had said Athos. “Poor Raoul!” had said d’Artagnan; and, in point of fact, to be pitied by both these men, Raoul indeed must have been most unhappy.”

It goes on and on- A secret prisoner escapes from the Bastille and is alligned to throw chaos into the mix, a bankrupting fête takes place at Vaux palace for the Kings pleasure, Amorous and royal love boils over, seething with jealousy…! Alas, I will have to tell you more in the second part of this discourse. For now, either read the book yourself, content yourself with a few snippets I have selected below, and or wait for my concluding remarks on Alexandre Dumas’s, The Man in the Iron Mask. (This edition is an Oxford Worlds Classics, translated by David Coward, published 91′)

P.175, Conversation between the Bishop of Vannes and the mysterious prisoner: “”What do you call liberty, Monsieur?” asked the prisoner with the tone of a man preparing for a struggle. “I call liberty, the flowers, the air, light, the stars, the happiness of whithersoever the nervous limbs of twenty years of age may wish to carry you.”” 

P.247, Aramis to the Prisoner, “It is useless to flash bright visions before the eyes of one who seeks and loves darkness; useless, too, is it to let the magnificence of the cannon’s roar be heard in the ears of one who loves repose and the quiet of the country.”

P. 231, Aramis to M. Baisemeaux, “With my friends I reckon neither bottles of wine nor years.”

P. 92, Porthos To Raoul regarding money an Raouls refusal thereof: “So much the worse , then. I have always heard it said that that is the rarest service, but the easiest to redner. The remark struck me; I like to cite remarks that strike me.

P. 71, “After having talked reason with older heads, one loves to talk nonsense with youth.” 

P. 246, Aramis to the Prisoner, “There is conscience, which cries aloud; remorse, which never dies.”

P.176, “Aramis looked steadily at this singular youth who possesed the resignation of a martyr with the smile of an athiest. “Is not Heaven in everything?”

 

Dumas, The Vicomte de Bragelonne

Now, I am led, most willingly, to the 3rd installment of the epic D’Artagnan romance series, written by the masterful hand of Alexandre Dumas; to think that just a few months ago, I was relatively oblivious to the bold swordplay and fearless bravery of the, Three Musketeers! Pardieu! And to think that I was even more ignorant of the daring heroe’s continued grandeur across the countries of France and England(Twenty Years After and The Vicomte de Bragelonne), with missions and plots that scandalized, restored and sabotaged  the largest political figure heads of their time. Mordieux!

vicomte

Oxford Word Classic, Translator, David Coward; One of the best translators of Dumas’ works.

In this staggering Dumas frenzy I’ve plunged myself into, I think I have inadvertently become a Dumasophile; such is his power of wit, mirth and adventure that I too have been in the heat of the chase with all these legendary men, Athos, Porthos, D’Artagnan and Aramis.

Again, I’m not one for giving a synopsis instead, I’d like to highlight a few parts, that made me either laugh out loud (like in the middle of public transit) or made gaze up from an engrossing page and into my mug of beer in reflective solemnity.

Here are some quotes and advice I’ve gleaned from my highly esteemed French friends that I’d love to share with you, dear readers and friends alike:

P.80, A miserly Cardinal Mazarin to the Young Louis XIV: “Rejoice at being poor when your neighbor is poor likewise.”

P.286, “Planchet, suffocated with joy, had lost his senses. D’Artagnan threw a glass of white wine in his face, which immediatly, recalled him to life.” Dumas describing the craze of Planchet upon seeing the heaps of gold: “At this time, as they do now, grocers wore a cavalier moustache and full beard but money baths, already rare in those days, have become almost unkown now.”

P. 91 D’artagnan to Louis XIV: “Sire, an order is given by a sign, by a gesture, by a glance, as intelligibly, as freely, and as clearly as by word of mouth. A servant who has nothing but ears is not half a servant.”

P. 255 D’Artagnan to Athos: “My friend, pleasures to which we are not accustomed oppress us more than the griefs we are familiar.”

P.276 D’Artagnan’s Reflection: “Now, in times past all went wrong with me, and every month found a fresh hole in my cloak and in my skin, a gold crown less in my poor purse: of that execrable time of small beer and ups and downs, i regret absolutely nothing, nothing, nothing, save our friendship; for within me I have a heart, and it is a miracle that heart has not been dried up by the wind of poverty which pssed through the holes of my cloak or pierced by the swords of all shapes which passed through the holes in my poor flesh.

P. 136, Mousqueton to D’Artagnan, recounting the leisure of the week he and his master Porthos engage in: “Monsieur, on monday we see society; we pay and receive visits, we play on the lute, we dance, we make verses, and burn a little incense in honour of the ladies.” “Hell’s teeth! that is the height of gallantry,’ said the musketeer,…”

P.281 Athos to D’Artagnan, a paradise: “You are free, you are rich, I shall purchase for you, if you like, a handsome estate in the vicinity of Cheverny or of Bracieux. On the one side you will have the finest woods in the world, which join those of Chambord; on the other, admirable marshes. You who love sporting, and who, whether you admit it or not, are a poet, my dear friend, you will find enough pheasants, rail and teal, not to mention the sunsets and ample opportunities for excursions on the water, to make you think you are Nimrod and Apollo rolled into one.

three-musketeers