Years ago, recipes were sometimes expressed in the form of poems, all the better to help cooks remember them.
One of the most famous is this salute to salad dressing. It was written by Sydney Smith, an English clergyman and writer who lived during the 19th century. Later it was reprinted in a popular cookbook, Common Sense in the Household by Marion Harland, and lived on for years. Deservedly, I think.There are a few different versions, but this is the one I like.
SYDNEY SMITH'S RECEIPT FOR SALAD DRESSING.
Two boiled potatoes , strained through a kitchen sieve,
Softness and smoothness to the salad give;
Of mordant mustard take a single spoon-
Distrust the condiment that bites too soon;
Yet deem it not, thou man of taste, a fault,
To add a double quantity of salt.
Four times the spoon with oil of Lucca crown,
And twice with vinegar procured from town;
True taste requires it, and your poet begs
The pounded yellow of two well-boiled eggs.
Let onions' atoms lurk within the bowl,
And, scarce suspected, animate the whole;
And lastly, in the flavored compound toss
A magic spoonful of anchovy sauce.
Then, though green turtle fail, though venison’s tough,
And ham and turkey are not boiled enough,
Serenely full, the epicure may say,
Fate cannot harm me – I have dined to-day.
Oh, green and glorious! oh, herbaceous treat!
'T would tempt the dying anchorite to eat.
Back to the world he'd turn his weary soul,
And plunge his fingers in the salad-bowl.
Two boiled potatoes , strained through a kitchen sieve,
Softness and smoothness to the salad give;
Of mordant mustard take a single spoon-
Distrust the condiment that bites too soon;
Yet deem it not, thou man of taste, a fault,
To add a double quantity of salt.
Four times the spoon with oil of Lucca crown,
And twice with vinegar procured from town;
True taste requires it, and your poet begs
The pounded yellow of two well-boiled eggs.
Let onions' atoms lurk within the bowl,
And, scarce suspected, animate the whole;
And lastly, in the flavored compound toss
A magic spoonful of anchovy sauce.
Then, though green turtle fail, though venison’s tough,
And ham and turkey are not boiled enough,
Serenely full, the epicure may say,
Fate cannot harm me – I have dined to-day.
Oh, green and glorious! oh, herbaceous treat!
'T would tempt the dying anchorite to eat.
Back to the world he'd turn his weary soul,
And plunge his fingers in the salad-bowl.
Courtesy Wikimedia Commons
And my, more pragmatic, recipe for salad dressing
Lemon juice
Dijon mustard
Olive oil
Salt
Fresh ground pepper
Herb – marjoram, oregano, basil or whatever’s fresh
Whisk the juice of half or a whole lemon (depending on how much salad dressing you want to make) with a teaspoon or so of mustard. I dip my whisk into the mustard jar and use the amount that just covers the tip of the whisk. Not scientific, but it works.
Then pour the olive oil into the mixture very slowly whisking all the while.
Taste. Add more lemon, mustard, or oil if need be. Then whisk in the salt, pepper, and chopped herb.
Enjoy.