Where on earth did I get this fascinating document? I have no idea. But it shocked me, because Marc Meneau’s restaurant, L’Esperance, figures in the novel I’ve been writing, and as I worked on the book I found myself falling a bit in love with the late chef,
In 1990 I had a memorable meal at the restaurant: we sat down to lunch, did not leave until long after dinner, and as the day stretched on the chef fed us everything on the menu. His food was amazing. You can read about that meal here. But at the time I didn’t know Meneau’s back story - he learned to cook to woo his wife, which is why he called his restaurant L’Esperance. Nor did I know that he was deeply interested in culinary history.
About this menu: I’ve done a little research and I can tell you that Gerard Oberle is an author and bookseller who was close friends with Meneau. The recipes come from a 1919 cookbook, L’Heptameron des Gourmets which has been reprinted in a beautiful (and very expensive) limited edition. As for Fernand Fleuret, I don’t quite understand where he comes in: the poet and science fiction author passed away in 1945 when Meneau was only 2 years old.
It turns out the chef created a number of enormous meals for Oberle and his friends; Oberle’s fiftieth birthday feast comprised fifty courses! Jim Harrison wrote about another Oberle/Meneau collaboration in the New Yorker in 2004. A Really Big Lunch was 37 courses: Meneau’s comment as the dozen guests sat down? “Courage!” The little snack outlined above was a mere 30 courses. The guests must have left hungry.
They're smaller. They're tanner. They're tastier. Turkish pistachios pack a punch the California kind lack. I buy mine at Russ and Daughters, but they're available in many other places; here’s a good online source.
One warning: don't even begin to buy them unless you're willing to become addicted. They're that good.
Since I’ve offered you the ultimate in luxury menus and fancy nuts, it seems I should finish with something more down to earth. I can’t think of anything better than these cookies from my first book.
The recipe is from my mother’s friend Hermine, who never showed up at our house without a tin of these amazing cookies. They’re an American classic: a way to make something elegant out of very humble ingredients. Chewy, delicate, and mysteriously nutty, these cookies contain no nuts.
Hermine’s Cookies
2 1/2 cups instant oats
1 cup dark brown sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 egg, beaten
1 stick butter, melted
1 teaspoon vanilla
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Mix the dry ingredients together.
Add the butter to dry ingredients. Mix well. Add the egg and the vanilla.
Drop by spoonfuls onto a well-greased cookie sheet and flatten with the back of the spoon. Bake for about 8 minutes, or until the edges of the cookies begin to brown. Remove from oven, let sit a minute or two and then remove from the sheet. If they stick to the cookie sheet, put them back into the oven for a minute.
Wow. That image certainly brought back memories. I was cooking from it in Ann Arbor as soon as you published it. The pages now yellowed and splattered with some of the ingredients. And, on this cookie page particularly. My kids loved these cookies. Now that they are grown and have children, they continue to use this recipe.
Making Hermine's cookies right now, but dough is very crumbly and difficult to get to baking sheet. Should I add a little liquid - water, milk - so that it holds together? Thank you!