Le décadentisme, c’est un courant artistique de la fin du XIXe siècle qui se place tout juste après le symbolisme, et avant les premiers surréalistes. Il …

The bleating lamb’s chatty tongue now silenced. Lie still. Cat caught you. And you are Still lying? Is there a doctor in the house who isn’t a psychopathic killer monster??? Get me out of this episode, nurse! As Hannibal’s food stylist, I’m looking furtively for food scenes, scanning the script with my hand over my eyes because every line I read is a horrific scene I’ve revisited. Five times. That’s because we are in the Goldenrod revision – that means the script has been changed five times. Back in the paper script days, each revision would be issued on different colored looseleaf paper (consecutively: blue, pink, yellow, green, then goldenrod and on and on until you were in double goldenrod hell) We would clip these new colored pages into our first draft white copy to keep our script updated. Now it’s all paperless but the revisions are still named by the old colors. Except there are no colors…cuz there’s no paper. Gone like the hands of time. Menu planning has its ups and downs In four days the food has gone from this: Initial concept sketch: Tongue Baked in Salt served in the Dining Room with Blood Red Summer Pudding for dessert ...through a couple of rewrites to this: Final plate design: Tongue en Papillote with Duxelle Sauce “Nice to have an old friend for dinner”, says Hannibal at the top of the dining room scene as he presents plates of Lamb Tongues en Papillote to Dr Chilton and Alana Bloom. So, let me see: 3 people times 5 pages of dialogue minus 3 pages of flashbacks times 2 tongues per plate. Ummmm. That’s 72 tongues equals 24 tongues each. I don’t think any of the actors want to eat even the tip of 24 tiny tongues. Especially not the tip. Is Raul Esparza a vegetarian? Does Caroline Dhavernas hate lamb? These are the actors doing the scene with Mikkelsen. My queries to the producer disappear into the black hole of unanswered emails. I think about this as I watch my test batch of lamb’s tongues poach. They curl up into grayish-mauve lobes of what look like blind oversized larvae. They are not tempting. No matter how ghoulish, I want the food to look like something you really want to taste –against your better judgment. Every character in this show is on a knife-edge. Will teeters on the edge of sanity; Hannibal balances between truth and lies; Jack is cold, then kind. I want the food also to have the tension of precarious balance: repellant but tempting. Slightly off-center. The Caesar salad watches with peacock eyes as I deconstruct it on the props table Prepping for the dinner scene, I hand-shape the tongues individually out of a modified Kibbeh recipe – bulgar ground with beef stock and mild spices. I make them bigger than lamb tongues because I want them to look like children’s tongues – out of the mouth of babes. (FBI babes?) Then I steam them and shade them with food coloring. I make 60 which luckily, turns out to be exactly the right amount. If the director had asked for one more take I would have been in trouble. Sometimes you get lucky… A succulent pair of tongues in an origami lotus Sometimes you don’t… Wine Jelly - no problem. Sugared Roses - no problem. Norton grapes - PROBLEM!!!!! Toto, we are not in Norton country Two days before the shoot, another script change that has Hannibal garnishing wine jelly with Norton grapes. I call Chrysalis, the largest grower of Norton grapes in the US. Could they Fed-Ex us some? Sorry, they just shipped out the last of their Nortons but they would phone around to some of the small producers. I call my brother-in-law who studied to be a vintner in Australia. Yes, says Adam, they are in the opposite season Down Under but the grapes are still green. I call John Szabo, the Master Sommelier who contributed wine notes to my Cocktail Chef cookbook. Nothing local that resembles Norton. Can’t I use another large round table grape? No, I say the script calls for Hannibal to peel a Norton grapes to show the flesh is the same color as the skin. All the available grapes have pale green flesh. I call Jojo a crime reporter pal of mine who knows a lot of local wine-makers. OK, I’ve scraped the bottom of my wine-pal barrel. Chrysalis calls back empty-handed. I knew that. I go – as we all ultimately must, to Google. The Great One links me effortlessly to Dr. Violetka Colova of the Centre for Viticulture and Small Fruit Research at the Florida University. She is the world’s leading authority on Norton grapes. She is charming, sympathetic and full of ideas and eye-opening information but has not one single Norton grape in her vast research greenhouse. Only one day left to solve this. I buy a couple flats of large round red grapes and start testing materials: wax, shellac, latex. In the end, I peel the grapes, dye them in purple food coloring, then dip them in some thinned purple pigmented beeswax that I had left over from an encaustic art project. Once the wax hardens, I dust the grapes with white eyeshadow to give them a just-picked bloom. By 10pm, my entire kitchen is decked with little purple balls dying and drying on wire racks. In the middle of my grape-elf work, I get a call from the director: could I bring a couple of grape alternatives. Oh, hey, no problem. I rethink my shellac idea and try painting some of the grapes with nail polish. The results are not bad at all. My call time is in 5 hours. I wake up in 3 hours to phone my assistant, Ettie: On the way to the shoot, please stop at the 24-hour drugstore and pick up an assortment of dark nail polish. We rush to the studio and paint up a batch of alternative grapes. They dry just in time for the director to say he prefers the wax ones. Well, that worked out well. A breadbasket I fashioned from a leaf and a horn gets kicked to the curb (too big for the shot) - in the background are several trays of little tongues waiting to go on camera. As I write this, I’m trying not to worry about the champagne towers I built yesterday for a party scene in “Dr. Cabbie”, a film about a cab driver who becomes famous for delivering babies in his taxi. They are shooting the scene now and I’m not on set to coach the actor as he pours the champagne in that top glass -- camera rolling as the champagne floods over, filling the pyramid of glasses – or not. I hope the props guy is saying, “Well that worked out well.” Now, to get to the meat of the matter, the recipe for this week’s episode: Silver Tongue Devils An easy version of Hannibal's Lambs' Tongues en Papillote with Duxelle Sauce Serves 4 small portions It’s a little tricky to get lamb tongues so I’m giving you a recipe using cooked beef tongue which you can buy by the pound at a deli (or brine and poach a fresh one yourself.) For Hannibal, I folded origami lotuses out of parchment paper to present the tongues but here, I’ll give directions for folding simple foil packets to bake the tongue in. Elegant packets can be made “en Papillote” out of heart-shaped paper if you know the technique and have the parchment, but this foil version is dead simple. For the Duxelles ½ cup chopped red onions 2 cups chopped mushrooms 3 Tbsp butter ¾ cup white wine pinch nutmeg to taste salt and pepper ¼ tsp balsamic vinegar For the Tongue packets 4 sheets light aluminum foil cut in 12” diameter circles 12 oz cooked tongue, sliced ¼” thick cut in pieces 3” x 2” 1 tomato, cut in ½” dice 4 sprigs fresh rosemary olive oil Make the Duxelles: In a very large sauté pan over medium high heat, melt butter and add onions, frying til they begin to soften. Add the chopped mushrooms and saute, stirring frequently, just until mushrooms release their juices. Add wine and boil until liquid is reduced to 2 or 3 Tbsp. Season with nutmeg, salt and pepper and balsamic. Set aside to cool. To make the packets, place a circle of foil on working surface. In the centre of the lower half of the circle of foil, place 1 slice of tongue, top with 1 Tbsp Duxelle, another slice of tongue and more Duxelle. Add another layer if your tongue slices are small. To close up the packet, bring the upper half of the circle of foil over so the upper and lower circumferences meet. Crimp the edges together well, making the seal as airtight as possible and taking care to leave at least one inch of space all around the tongue. This is where the aromatic steam will build up during the baking, puffing out your foil packets. Repeat with remaining foil sheets. Refrigerate until 30 minutes before serving. Reserve remaining Duxelles to serve on the side. Twenty minutes before serving time, place the foil packets on a baking sheet and bake in a pre-heated oven at 350° for 15 minutes. Reheat Duxelles. Plate the foil packets unopened. When guests open their packets at the table, a lovely puff of rosemary-scented steam will rise to whet their appetites. For the shoot, the vegetable accompaniment was steamed squash – to give the actors something to eat other than the bulgar tongues. Next week: Heart Tartare and Jose Andre’s Tomato Brains

BG-Projet#5 Là-Bas – Joris-Karl Huysmans – 1891 Un grand roman du décadentisme et le crépuscule du naturalisme. Le rite satanique décrit dans l’ouvrage sert toujours de base rituelle au…

France has pioneered high society since the 1600's, but what does it mean to be French? Check out these ten titles to unravel this beautiful and perplexing culture.

Songbird Surrounded by the scent of death Caged Yet singing Still This episode is named for Ko ko Mono, the course of preserved vegetables that signals the beginning of the end of the Kaiseki dinner. Its crisp textures and aromatic vinegared flavors sharpen the senses and prepare the diner for the final courses. Please pass some to Alana. Not all background actors are boars and dummies but here is a couple waiting outside the studio for their scenes to start Ortolans, then and now I have known for some time that ortolan will be on the menu at Hannibal’s table. This lovely bird has frequent mention in Harris’ novels: as a child he hears them in the woods beyond Lecter Castle; he listens to their song at the Café de L’Este with Lady Murasaki; he hears them again trilling in the background of a threatening phonecall – then releases them after he dispatches their hapless cager - the restaurateur who put them on the menu and his sister in the soup. I imagine these little songbirds flitting from room to room like yellow moths in Hannibal’s Memory Palace. Ortolans are tiny songbirds no bigger than a man's thumb. Unfortunately for their species they are delicious. Now illegal to sell for the purposes of eating, they are famous as food of gourmands through the ages. They are captured live and force-fed til they are bloated. Not with a feeding horn, as are foie gras geese and ducks, but by taking advantage of their instinct to feed voraciously at night. Romans used to blind the birds so they would think it was night and feed endlessly. Now, they are merely put in covered cages and fed nuts and fruit. When they become so bloated they cannot move, they are quickly drowned in Armagnac, then plucked and roasted whole - they are eaten in one mouthful - bones guts and all. The little head with the brain and the crispy beak is thought to be the best part. Traditionally, one covers one's head with a cloth napkin while eating the bird so God will not see you engaging in such debauched indulgence. My sketch sent to Heads of Departments prior to shooting The early draft of the script has the food scenes fleshed out so I have already been working on the cooking and eating of ortolans. The problem I have is that eating the bird is illegal. I couldn’t buy one let alone the two dozen I would need for the dining room scene. And as dedicated as I am to this show, I am not going to get a bb gun and hie to the hills of Gdansk to bag them. Besides, Mads and Hugh may not be up for chomping their way through several pounds of whole baby birds. I need to make ortolan fakes. The birds they used in Babette’s Feast were made of marzipan – the ones in Gigi must have been quail – judging by the size. Ortolans are not much bigger than a man’s thumb. Faking the songbirds I don’t want to make them out of marzipan because it would be a horrible thing to ask Mads and Hugh to eat that much hot, sweet, gummy almond paste. (Hot, because they will, like Freddie-in-a-wheelchair, enter flaming.) Some sad examples of what not to use: gnocchi, solid potato, gefilte fish There must be something that tastes neutral but can be sculpted to look like a little roast bird. I experiment: carved potatoes have promise but fall apart after cooking…gefilte fish has the wrong texture…gnocchi shows promise until the revised script comes in saying that Hannibal “lifts the bird by the head and puts the body in his mouth…then draws the head and beak into his mouth blithely crushing them between his molars.” None of the things I have been working with are solid enough for that. The slightest pressure would cause the head to crack off and roll across the table. When all else fails, use marzipan So with the deadline nearing, I decide that marzipan is my best alternative. Mads and Hugh will just have to act like they are enjoying it. I carve a little wooden cradle for forming the birds – so they won’t have flat backs – and cut up a square of fiberglass mesh from a window screen to press against the marzipan to make the skin texture. Pine nuts for eyes and spaghetti for the little legs. I make them hollow so they will be a little easier to eat. Testing the flame colour of various flammable substances - hmmmm overproof rum, brandy or lighter fluid? Decorated tray ready to go out with Buddy and Pedro in the pan. I named the two "ortolans" after a pair of penguins at the Toronto Zoo who were internet stars a few years ago for their ill-fated love affair.. Acting delicious… The shoot goes well. I’ve planned to accompany the ortolans with oysters and foie gras – just like the last controversial meal of Frances’ President Mitterrand before he died of cancer. And although Mads and Hugh hate the marzipan, they do the scene beautifully sending my hand-made baby birds to a fiery sticky death by cognac flambe – eating them whole imagining the crunchy bones, guts, Armagnac-filled lungs -- take after take after take. oysters on barnacles and fake ice crawling with crayfish Torchon of wine-cured foie gras decorated with butterflies (Will) and peacock feather eyes (Hannibal) The kitchen scenes will be shot in tomorrow by 2nd Unit. So I have to head back to my studio kitchen and make another flocking bunch of the baked buntings overnight. Second Unit has a different vibe. Usually, I work with Main Unit because the dining room scenes are long and involve dialogue. Second unit does close-ups or pick-up shots -- quick sequences that will be cut into the main action -- usually shot MOS (without sound) with a much smaller crew. The atmosphere is comfortable and intimate. The team works fast and tight. If Main Unit is an opera house, 2nd Unit is a downstairs jazz club. I will enjoy the low-key pressure of playing by ear. Chris Burne is directing so he will be spinning LPs on an old turntable while we shoot his inventive angles. It’s nearing the end of the season so the editors have a long list of close-ups and inserts they need to polish the final edits. I’ll tell you all about it in a couple weeks. Another batch of ortolans prepped for next day's 2nd Unit But now, it’s time to cook! PUT THAT BUDGIE BACK!!! We are not roasting tiny tweeters! That’s just wrong. Here’s a recipe for the next best thing: Quail. Which are perfectly legal and can be easily and inexpensively purchased reassuringly headless, clawless and totally gutless on a Styrofoam tray. Stuffed with sweetbreads to give your dinner that Hannibal touch. Quail Stuffed with Sweetbreads 3 mains or 6 appetizers 1 lb Sweetbreads 4 Tbsp Butter 1 cup Onions, dices ½ cup Celery, diced 1 cup Mushrooms, diced 1 tsp Fresh thyme leaves 1 tsp Green onions, chopped 2 Tbsp Red wine pinch Ground nutmeg Salt, Pepper to taste 6 Quails 3 slices Bacon, halved 6 pc Butcher’s string 1. Soak sweetbreads overnight in water. Drain and rinse well. In a medium-sized saucepan, cover sweetbreads with cold water and bring to boil over high heat. Turn heat to low and simmer for 15 minutes. Drain and rinse under cold water to stop cooking. Peel off membrane and connective tissue. Chop coarsely and set aside. 2. In a large sauté pan, melt butter over medium-high heat. Add onions and sauté for 2 minutes. Add celery and sauté for another 2 minutes. Add mushrooms and saute until juices have evaporated and mixture is fairly dry. Remove from heat. Add chopped sweetbreads, thyme, green onions, wine, nutmeg, salt and pepper. Mix thoroughly and allow to cool. 3. Preheat oven to 400°F (200°C). On a baking sheet, crumple a large sheet of foil so it forms 6 evenly spaced shallow “nests” on which to balance each quail. This will keep the quails upright and ensure even browning. 4. Using paper towel, dry the quail inside and out. Sprinkle salt and pepper inside and out. Stuff the cavity of each quail with sweetbread mixture. Thread a toothpick through each cavity opening to keep stuffing from falling out. Tie legs of each bird together with string. Place quails on prepared sheet and place one piece of bacon on top of each bird. Roast for 15 to 20 minutes or until browned. Rest for at least 10 minutes, remove string and toothpicks and serve. Flambe them at the table if you wish with warm cognac or brandy. If you flambe these birds, raise a glass to Freddie Lounds – the bait in the lure. It’s really really hard for that outspoken redhead to play dead. I got a message from her saying she was hiding out at Will’s place – finding only Steinbeck, Hemingway and fishing magazines his bookshelves – so nothing much for her to do except play with the dogs… Next week: what’s black and white and read red all over? More of you have been cooking and sharing: Frittata by Christian Christian S sent along this photo of his deliciously fresh looking frittata with shrimp! Lounds-o Saltado made by Rosendo Rosendo M went to university in Perú and writes: "You can imagine how wide-eyed I got when Hannibal decided to cook this. Followed your directions and this came out easily one of my best plates. Can't wait for season 3!" Maru's Osso buco - love the stag onthe risotto dish And dessert in the same red white and green Italian theme - Maru's Dolce Vita Maru made the ossobuco with risotto milanese and reports "added sauteed green asparagus (because I felt there had to be more veggies, especially green ones.) As a dessert, to go with the red-white-green Italian theme, I combined flourless white chocolate cake, raspberry and kiwi with cranberry sauce, chopped pistachios and whipped cream. yummilicious lamb's hearts on mashed potatoes from Arron and Emma in Leicester Arron and Emma try their own ideas for a Hannibal themed dinner for two each week. Arron says,"First week we made Bacon wrapped lambs heart with Broccoli and Mash potato (We Brits love our mash!) and Emma made a lovely blood cherry cheesecake." Arron's helping hand in the pate-making ready for the oven Roasted! Emma's blood-drizzled cheesecake Next week Arron decided to go all out and made a whole arm feast! He describes, "Stuffed Pork loin with Cumberland and apple sausage stuffing and a sausage hand based upon my own! We served it with honey roasted figs, baked apple and grapes, with Dauphinoise potatoes, asparagus with cheese and dried bacon. Emma made a lovely lemon tart that also went well with the honey roasted figs & crème fraiche." Thanks for sharing your Hannimeals - you continue to amaze me with your ability!!! pix to: [email protected] Unless otherwise stated, all content copyright Janice Poon 2014

A Food Stylist's Notes from the Film Set

Avec cet ouvrage, Mario Praz, inestimable critique et grand collectionneur, a su le premier retracer le développement de la culture européenne sous le biais de faits supposés anodins, comme l'invention de la méridienne, le drapé des rideaux, la mode des plantes d'intérieur, le goût pour le capitonnage et les tentures, l'utilisation de la lumière ou l'apparition de la moquette. Revivent ainsi des modes de vie oubliés, tout à coup significatifs et porteurs d'une véritable philosophie de l'ameublement. Cet ouvrage de référence, écrit en 1964, offre un mélange unique de recherche historique, de critique littéraire et de connaissances esthétiques. D'une précision extrême, il invite le lecteur à une promenade dans l'histoire de la décoration «de Pompéi à la fin du XIXe siècle», à travers des gravures anciennes ou de transparentes aquarelles, signes d'un goût et d'une sérénité que l'esprit d'aujourd'hui recherche avidement. Mario Praz (1896-1982) fut un des critiques littéraires et artistiques les plus importants de notre époque. D'une curiosité universelle, il s'intéressa aussi bien à la Renaissance qu'à la littérature victorienne, au maniérisme qu'à l'histoire du style napoléonien. Auteur de plus de 2500 articles, il a écrit de nombreux ouvrages dont le plus célèbre, La Chair, la mort et le diable traite du décadentisme. Amateur reconnu, il était fasciné par les objets et le mobilier. Un musée romain, le Palazzo Primoli, abrite son exceptionnelle collection personnelle. Extrait du livre : LA PHILOSOPHIE DE L'AMEUBLEMENT Dans de petites villes de provinces éloignées, autrefois et même à l'époque actuelle, avant que la guerre n'atteigne les contrées les plus retirées, certains oisifs employaient leurs loisirs à des travaux aussi agréables qu'inutiles. Parmi ces travaux, aucun ne fut peut-être plus solennellement vain que celui qui consistait à écrire des poèmes didactiques. J'eus l'occasion, il y a de nombreuses années, de passer quelques chaudes journées de juillet dans la vieille bibliothèque d'un immense palais de Fano pour remettre en ordre les livres accumulés par l'aïeul d'une de mes parentes. Cette bibliothèque avait été constituée vers 1830, et les nombreux volumes de théologie, de littérature et d'art, où figurait surtout l'Histoire de la Sculpture de Cicognara, avaient belle allure avec leurs reliures à dos et à fers classiques et rococo. Les rayonnages étaient surmontés de moulages de statues d'un plâtre si mince qu'en les soulevant par le cou, la tête nous restait dans la main et l'autre partie se brisait à terre. Je trouvai un Recueil de poèmes didactiques en plusieurs volumes qui, dès l'introduction, plongeait le lecteur dans cette atmosphère feutrée caractéristique, comme je l'ai dit, de nos somnolentes villes de province jusqu'à ce qu'éclatent les trompettes de l'Apocalypse moderne. L'introduction disait entre autres : «L'Italie, à qui personne ne peut disputer le premier rang dans la Poésie Epique et Lyrique, a surpassé aussi les autres Nations par la quantité et l'exquise délicatesse des oeuvres qui appartiennent à la classe des poèmes didactiques... De même que la Philosophie la plus austère n'a jamais refusé de s'associer parfois aux Muses qui font naître au coeur un tendre penchant pour la sévérité et la rigueur de ses disciplines, de même les Poètes Epiques, Tragiques, Lyriques traitèrent constamment aux différentes époques tous les genres de sujets, et contribuèrent au perfectionnement de l'art de philosopher. En vérité le Philosophe découvre dans le Poème didactique de quoi nourrir ses pensées et ses penchants, et le Savant y trouve la pâture d'une doctrine qui le satisfait. L'Homme de Lettres laisse vagabonder son esprit parmi les images chères. Jusqu'aux jeunes gens de bonne éducation et aux dames cultivées qui y trouvent, pour occuper agréablement leurs moments d'oisiveté, l'occasion d'un passe-temps charmant par la variété des sujets et l'élégance avec laquelle ils sont traités.» On chantait les abeilles, la petite propriété rurale, la gastronomie, la culture du riz et l'immortalité de l'âme, la syphilis et le système céleste, l'or, les perles, le verre, les coraux, le ver à soie et l'art de la guerre, la machine électrique, la machine pneumatique et l'éducation du coeur, les échecs et le tremblement de terre, les plaisirs de l'imagination et le dressage des chiens de chasse, la nourrice et les canaris, la Fée Morgane et le bon goût, l'élevage des pinsons et la mode.